Suspension

Three new droning permutations from Michael Baum, suspended somewhere between gravity and evaporation. Heavy, yet untethered. Minimal, yet saturated to the point of quiet collapse. Layers of tone accumulate like slow sediment, forming vast harmonic architectures that seem to breathe on their own. Intervals stretch, fold, and shimmer with a strange, magnetic logic. You don’t listen so much as drift. There is a sense of losing orientation here, like being carried out to sea with no shoreline left to remember. The infinite swell, the patient undertow. Above, below, it no longer matters. The sky dissolves into the same endless continuum. The world reduces itself to tone and interval. Everything else recedes. Suspension. -Sir Kuliktavikt