The Fractal Skulls: Rayleigh Scattering

This album has become the default setting for my commute home in recent weeks. Crammed onto a tram like the dutiful automaton I am, if chance allows I deliberately part focus on the landscape as it passes allowing the tunes on Rayliegh Scattering to soothe and hug me into a more pleasing headspace and biorhythmic zone.

This is music constructed through the delicate caress of arpeggiators, the lightest of ambient touches, and lovingly manipulated field recordings. The latter often refer to travel of some form or other – such as the robotic-once-human voices that deliver regular security warnings – and thus the album lends itself to mobility. Guitars and voices are drawn in from time to time to extend the range of tones, but for the most part the sounds are analogue synths plucked and tenderly stroked.

In a different world The Fractal Skulls (aka Chris Smith) would be as big (relatively speaking) as Oneohtrix Point Never or would be lauded as part of the Ghost Box roster. As I said, in different world. But let’s try to make that happen through buying the album here.

Echo Returns:

Operator:

Foreign Bed: