These cited vessels of inspiration are poured out with certainty and stirred before being distilled down to produce whispers of arcane ceremonies, evoked by percussive beats, folded by the ebb and flow of inhaled dreams or strident awakenings. Definitively enjoying this compositional direction, for me it builds on the architecture laid by Other Forms of Consecrated Life, while bringing its own strange angles.

‘Love Is Colder …’ could be a paean to Lynch given his untimely passing, but it’s so much more. Stunning compositions evoke how, in film noir, regret can be a stronger emotion than revenge: ‘ I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.’ A deeply affecting, utterly stunning album. This album is a total triumph! A world where Veronica Lake bids us farewell at Sparkwood & 21 & the disenchantment of Moreau’s Florence still stalks our dreams.

I’m beginning to see Imperial Valley’s compositions as historical records, anthropological frames holding faded and vanishing landscapes of humanity. At times illuminating loss of agency or loss of reality. As the industrial towns of America’s Midwest gradually evaporated into dust-scarred ruin, etched on the faces of those left behind as ghosts. Human toxicity belching, choking the air, showering sparks over a kindle-dry future.. Bogdanovich’s Last Picture Show shares these landscapes.

Imperial Valley compositions never disappoint. Rather they enthrall the listener and draw one into the subdued eye of the storm gradually disturbing the air with ripples of erosion and rumours of thunder. Voices disconnect from the past and find themselves within the mirrors of the present. IV is simply one of the most profound and thought-provoking constellations of creative compositions around today. Can’t recommend this, plus IV’s back catalogue highly enough!