Manasota

On his debut album, Florida musician Justin Robert presents his own take on the world of meditative drones, often aiming less for harrowing undertow or sparkling wind chimes than a spot somewhere in between the two, something that sounds akin to the early days of the Kranky and Darla labels, crossed and combined. The understated rhythm of "In the Only Way That Is Real," provided by what sounds like a keyboard figure, supports other elements from accordion wheeze to found sound. Guitar work on Manasota is at points understated but textures can be sensed throughout, while on a song like "Wind," it's immediately clear, its rich echo suggesting some of Robin Guthrie's striking mid-'80s work in the Cocteau Twins circa Victorialand. Meanwhile the overt My Bloody Valentine Blur worship on "Bleeding" is a lovely triumph, perhaps the most conventionally soundtrack-like the album gets, feeling as it does like a fantastic ending to a film. There are danker moments on the disc — "Not So Random a Life," with its collage of echoed, buried clatterings that sound almost like distant gunfire, gets further punctuated by a dramatic synth swell and distant gloomy melody, building into a more aggressive overlaid drone as the song reaches its conclusion. It easily slides into "Sun," which suggests the kind of lazy torpor of a really hot day without relying on standard acid/burnout clichés, a desert that's still chilly thanks to the buried swell of feedback howl roped into a larger, steadily paced melodic context. Meanwhile, the mix of buzzing white noise, soft tones, and an open-ended ringing guitar line on "Atum" is a perfect synthesis of the album's various impulses, a promising look to future work from Robert.