The sound of Sublamp stalks, naturally creepy. There is an industrial heaviness that weighs down on the environments conjured by Ryan Connor throughout the project. Serene soundscapes are marked by the drones of machinery that drill right through whatever waves that cross their paths. The drones, though not exceptionally dynamic, are deeply textured — there is a lot to explore In Our Hiding Voice.
Some sounds billow deep & wide waves while others grind out harmonics that echo throughout the dark chambers. Most of the tracks, like the sample of Dear Carpetfoot above, may seem scary at first, though as is anything unfamiliar. A close listen reveals that the space is well controlled, and through the ease-laden mix of massive walls of energy, one might easily turn any initial unease into a tranquil trip, observing what images Sublamp conjures within.
Though the album is not without tension. Girl, Calling to an Empty House, is a moving section, particularly when meditated on in reflection of its title. Though drone music as such is generally approached as experimental and abstract, one ought bear in mind that these abstractions are necessarily built upon something… . When passages like this one are constructed with a clear & present notion of what the abstract art is an abstraction of, then such art, like In Our Hiding Voice, hits its mark.