Did I mention this album is free?
Every track on The TEAC Life is like a restless dream; liable to end any minute, but with waking impossibilities to rush through first. Wolfers shows a certain distaste for empty intros and moments of quiet. Instead of staging breakdowns, for instance, he simply slides alternative elements into place, moving fluidly from one fevered imagining to the next. And like a dream, these individual scenes are often meaningless or perplexing, but no less affecting for their vividness and sincerity. "The Night Wind" leads off, chugging like a toy locomotive. Its mellifluous synths first exude calm, but later build to a hyperactive peak amid slapping drum hits. From here, Wolfers offers a diverse range of tunes. "Half Moon 106" is characterised by a swan-like elegance, while "Moonmist" is filled with bustling, medieval-sounding chords and Roland drums. Then there's the intrigue-laden "Encounter At Farpoint," which would do well soundtracking a James Bond flick, or the uplifting "Metro Airport," where insistent rhythm sticks and tissue-paper hats are overlaid with vast, shining ribbons of synth and arpeggio.
There's certainly no lack of quality, or variety. What disappoints is Wolfers' unimaginative finishes, presumably a result of his live sequencing method. A vast majority of the tracks conclude with a simple fade-out, often while still charged with momentum. And even when these endings don't seem premature, it's easy to feel deprived of some final flourish. It wouldn't appear Wolfers is overly concerned with making a traditional "masterpiece" album though. Totalling 110 minutes, the contents of The TEAC Life simply sound like the latest things to have tumbled from his studio. Referring back to Wolfers' write-up, however, it's clear that he's wary of over-thinking things, and more interested in honest, raw creations—just another of the idiosyncrasies that make Legowelt's music so unique and delicious.