There's an oddly frustrating aspect to this disc. Odd in that the first, eighth and ninth tracks (especially the first) seem to refer directly to a great and relatively unknown recording by Gavin Bryars, his "Hommages", originally released in 1981 on Les Disques du Crepuscule. The similarity is striking; more or less the same instrumentation (piano, vibraphone-no brushed cymbals here) and, on "Immanent Distance", very much the same stately, though slightly surreal, pacing. Interestingly, that first track is an improvisation between Chrysakis and Dario Bernal. On the other two pieces, which conclude the disc and are performed (overdubbed) by himself, Chrysakis stretches things out, agitating matters a bit in "Summer Fog" then going hog wild on the concluding "Childhood's Vertigo". In both cases, his choices work very well, transporting the listener from relative calm to giddy excitement. Would that he had filled out the remainder of the album with such inspired ideas.

Unfortunately, these three pieces surround five others that meander in an excessively gauzy world of keyboard trills, woozy electronics and a generally New Age-y feel. Things begin to go a bit misty on the second cut and then sublimate entirely over the next several. Blippy electronics, ghosts of intoned chants, it meanders endlessly (think: a less rigorous variant of "Moonchild" from the first King Crimson LP). When a speaker appears, portentously droning on about streams and sleepers...well, enough was enough.

Chrysakis clearly has some interesting ideas. Here, however, they're only in play about half the time.