So, Vadim Militsin’s Logica Abstracta project delivers “Amber”. Four tracks of pure ambient drift. No rhythmic anchors, just textures that shimmer and dissolve like heat haze off distant tarmac, or maybe the condensation trail of a plane miles overhead. They call it ‘sonic jewelry’, which feels strangely apt. These aren’t grand, sprawling statements; they’re intricate little things, polished smooth, catching the light in unexpected ways. Compact, yes, but hold one up to your ear and you might just hear the quiet hum of the cosmos. Or perhaps it’s just the refrigerator. The line blurs, delightfully.
The sounds themselves? Granular bits float alongside these long, airy tones that feel… clean. Almost clinical, but in a strangely calming way, like the air after a really intense spring clean you didn’t even know you needed. There’s a definite nostalgic undercurrent running through it, but it’s not saccharine; it’s more akin to suddenly recalling the precise scent of beeswax candles from a childhood church you barely remember attending. One track momentarily gave me the mental image of sunlight filtering through the dusty stained glass of a forgotten train station where time simply… stopped. It’s that sort of oddly specific peace.
It’s pitched for relaxation, meditation, yoga mats unfurled. Fair enough. But there’s a subtle undercurrent that tickles the mind differently. The complete lack of percussion creates this peculiar suspension. You’re floating, certainly, but without the gentle nudge of knowing which way is downstream. It fosters less ‘inner peace’ and more ‘inner quiet vastness’, a subtle but crucial distinction. There’s a definite magnetism here, pulling you into these miniature, self-contained sound-worlds.
You drift through the four pieces, each distinct yet part of the same carefully curated collection, like strange, luminous minerals laid out on dark felt. Each refracts the sonic light slightly differently – one cooler, aqueous; another carrying a deeper, almost geological resonance. They don’t shout for attention, but they certainly reward it if you lean in close, quiet your own internal chatter for a moment.
What are you left holding when the last shimmer fades? Not answers, certainly. More like the lingering feeling of having cupped something small, bright, and beautifully unknowable in your hands for a short while.
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