review by: Dave McGonigle

Seagulls turn into fireworks, half-heard jazz standards gurgle from the bottom of the sea, and pure sine waves rock gently from one ear to the other. Yup, it’s business as usual for Ekkehard Ehlers, obscure master of the minimalist, pilgrim at the altar of ‘more is less.’

Like his previous series of EPs, Ekkehard Ehlers Plays…, Heroin is best heard late at night with the lights turned down low, the stereo turned up high, and a glass or two of whatever tickles yer synapses close to hand. From the beginning to the end of the album, Mathieu and Ehlers create music that travels the full gamut of ‘ambient’ - in effect, a cook’s tour of what’s hip ‘n’ happening in electronica, a CD made by an older sibling whose rarefied tastes you hunger to acquire.

However (as is sometimes the case in ambient music), the cardinal sin of quantity over quality is never committed. Far from being a simple mélange of muddled music, there’s a hell of a lot to like and admire on this double-disc set, released in the US by SF’s very own Orthlong Musork label (for the most part, the high-watermark for all that’s good in glitch). For your hard-earned greenbacks, you get the main album plus a second CD of remixes; a nice touch, but hardly essential. Regard the mix CD as a grateful present from a doddering aunt, smile in appreciation, and concentrate instead on the first album.

And what an album it is. Everything from Aphex Twin-like ambient to glitch and Eno-esque organic drones reminiscent of Ambient IV. And, baby - it’s all good. Not a foot is put wrong throughout this collection, it’s challenging, it’s soothing, it’s slightly menacing; it’s all that. At times, you’ll believe that you’re William Hurt in a flotation tank, trying to go "all the way back"; at others, you’re on a beach at night with your friends, there’s a celebration somewhere, and you’re simply happy to be there.

However, Mathieu and Ehlers understand that it’s as important to bring people home as it is to take them on a journey. And so the disc opens and closes with an achingly beautiful combination of organ music and field-recordings of fireworks that will make you cry. If it doesn’t, tell me, and I’ll come round to your house and we’ll cut onions while the CD plays. Dude, I mean it. (10/10)