Ten of the album's 14 tracks are oddball sound studies, tangled compositions that sound like quick sketches. Some are dark and droning ("0215"), while others are brighter and more organic ("0242," "0302"). A few are totally off the wall, like the elephantine "0208" and "0244"'s fat horn and crumbling rattles. The four beat-driven tracks are more fully formed. "0508" begins with the same droning machine sounds as opener "0217," before pulling in metallic percussion to form an Autechre-esque techno cut. "0406" sounds locked in a broken loop at first, but the second half's breaks and painterly synth streaks come together in a danceable flurry.
"0600" and "0618" have a bit more to hold on to, and they'll be the standouts for anyone looking for Yaleesa Hall's colourful 4/4. A few more tracks like those would have been welcome, but the album is still admirable as is. Its music is creative, raw and highly inquisitive. Woodall brings Yaleesa Hall, the studio nerd and astute sound engineer, more into focus than ever before.