"Chloroform" is a fitting title for a track that feels so biological. It's driven by thick drones that drift and converge in wide parabolas, at times diving into a sub-bass rattle that's so low it's frightening. As it reaches its resolution, the slow cycles of synth give way to a rich hum of layered harmonics. Knowing Lucy's esoteric interests, the sound could be the ring of a Tibetan singing bowl.
This swelling effect is all over The Lotus Eaters. "Peeling," a dance floor track, is driven by a dubby tape echo that reaches threatening levels, before backing away from a full-on feedback loop. That trick does a lot of the heavy lifting until four minutes in, when the percussion kicks in and the groove comes to life. The other rhythmic cut, "Stained Glass," is peppered with little, dissonant bells that phase like two guitar strings slightly out of tune. "Foil Gardens" is pure drone, a stack of throbbing waveforms and the chorus of shimmering overtones they produce. It's got enough low-end intensity to induce a light dissociative feeling, like you're levitating just a few feet over your body.