In the liner notes for this disc, Anthony Milton writes about how this album marks a new approach for him, and discusses recording it in these abandoned underground bunkers. I was definitely intrigued. The disc starts out with a meandering guitar/violin piece called Rise. There are moments that seem to want to expand into lilting drones, and I want them to, but they never quite linger long enough. Instead, it keeps moving along, leaving some of the most interesting bits in the dust. The disc continues along some of these same lines until it comes to the third cut, the longest on the disc, and certainly my favorite . Here, Milton opens up with a slowly lilting drone, with beautiful and subtle textures that slowly reveal themselves through the first half of the track. Then, an almost militaristic rhythm creeps in, and the intensity builds. The tension grows, but again, doesn’t quite seem to reach its potential, as the layers and textures get dismantled and fall apart, leaving me a bit unsatisfied. That’s basically the story of the whole disc for me. It offers hints at everything it could be, but just doesn’t deliver. Judging by some of the other projects I’ve heard, Anthony Milton certainly has the abilities to get there, but for whatever reason seems to have stopped short for the most part on these recordings. After reading the liner notes of the disc, I hoped to at least get an aural sense of an odd, makeshift recording studio fashioned from a defunct military installation, but with the exception of some of the ethereal vocals (another high point) on the disc, I didn’t get much sense of the space, either. I’d say it’s worth a listen for those that have appreciated Milton’s other work, and I’m glad I heard it, but I don’t see revisiting this one any time soon. 5/10 -- Joe Beres (11 June, 2009)