The Russian producer also known as Buttechno turns to ambient.
Milyakov has an ear for improvisation, which is what keeps these repetitive, ultra-minimalist tracks from getting boring. "Bolotniy" is mostly just clicking noises and a single, generous bass pulse, but he has such a keen sense of when to modulate—when to strike with one particular sound or another—that he carries it for over five minutes. "Virus Saw" sounds just like its title suggests: if there was an instrument called a virus saw, this is the sound it would make. Here, Milyakov treats synthesis a bit like sculpture, molding the contours of one sustained note with a touch that feels intuitive and tactile. First he gets a bowed sheet metal buzz out of it, generating layered folds of resonant harmonics. Then it takes on a kind of glass harmonica quality, which curls up into a sawtooth screech. "FFF" is almost entirely reverb, radiating outwards from synth tones that flash like headlights through fog.
But it's not all austere noise and bummer vibes. Milyakov distributes emotional moments strategically throughout the LP to lighten up the mood. "Moon Pad"—which, again, sounds like it's named after whatever Moon Pad synth patch he used—is lovely and sad, with soft falling notes that suggest something lost or left behind. "Octa Plumb Plucks" has some melodic dimension too. "May Guitar" has a transcendent new age tint, and he works the loose guitar part nicely into the electronic palette. It almost sounds like a disassociated Juju & Jordash, if you eliminated the grooves and kept only the textural quality of the way they make guitars gel with synths. The guitars on the closing track, "Test," are more threatening. It has a claustrophobic, dissonant feel, the kind of energy that could send you tailspinning into a bad trip. It ends abruptly and on a fucked-up note, leaving enough of an impression, however ambiguous, to tempt the listener back.