North of Forty-Five

It seems fitting that the ambient music duo Wroom operate out of Portland, Oregon. The misty, melancholy-tinged charm of the Pacific Northwest seems to hang over the sparse yet evocative tracks on North of Forty-Five. Members Nigel Barnes and Rian Callahan are sound-sculptors rather than songwriters, content to create slowly unfolding landscapes for the listener to inhabit. The effect is akin to a walk through an old-growth forest, with shafts of light piercing through shifting patterns of fog and shadow. At times, the textures here are vaguely ominous — “Almost Is He Brown” and “Wixdm,” for instance, rumble and resonate with subterranean gloom. Tracks like “Cold, Small and Green,” “Conical Muse” and the wonderfully titled “Light As a Feather, Stiff As a Board” are more inviting, built around light, tingling tones. While much of this music seems keyboard-created, “Where’s My Grapnel?” emphasizes a shimmering guitar line. Overall, North of Forty-Five harkens back to Brian Eno’s initial ambient experiments, though Wroom’s approach is more whimsical and home-grown in spirit. These dreamy, slightly dark but mostly inviting environments should appeal to the Oregonian in everyone.