In just over 40 minutes and two long form tracks that split the record (‘Phase I’ and ‘Phase II’), the listener is taken on a voyage that accurately simulates the turbulent nature of the human condition and rather poignantly, how we’re living now; the reassuring calm of being protected at home but the unbearable anxiety of uncertainty and the looming fear of potentially catching a deadly virus.

The ebb and flow of ‘In Ferneaux’ trades in a broad gamut of aural angles that slowly unfurl, from delicate subtlety through to moments of uncompromising chaos. This is an album that channels uplifting euphoria, unsettling nothingness and brain-frazzling noise. Amongst the electronic melange, the faint clamour of conversation can be heard, while mostly undiscernible there’s a duality to the chatter amongst the noise. In one respect there’s a comfort in hearing other people’s voices as it invokes the memories of being in busy bars, restaurants, gigs and the pleasing hub-bub of being around other people enjoying themselves. Although, there are disconcerting moments when the disembodied voices are buried beneath the din. The sensation provokes a defence mechanism, as if your brain jolts into protection mode; are those voices friendly? What are they saying? Friend or foe?

The term cinematic is perhaps overused in musical terms (I for one tend to grab it as my go-to word for anything epic…that’s another overused example too!) but in the case of ‘In Ferneaux’, it couldn’t be more appropriate. This isn’t to say that Power’s latest opus is a grandiose, string-laden, overblown affair, it’s more to do with the narrative that it attempts to convey to the listener. There’s an anxiousness brought on by a reoccurring near silence, albeit with the sound of ambient crackles and pops that invokes films that trade in uncomfortable stillness, whereas when the music swells to a colossal, techno thumping wall of sound, you expect a feral android to leap feet first out of your headphones (or Bluetooth speaker – whatever’s your poison). A nightmarish horror movie hellscape is projected in the album’s more distorted moments but when ‘In Ferneaux’ glides into a celestial swoon, you’re transported to a film with a club scene, just as the amphetamines kick in and our lead protagonist starts coming up. Of course a lot of this is down to interpretation. Take the carnival drumming and squeals of noise towards the end of the record’s second act; in one respect it sounds like a party in full swing but in another, there’s a foreboding danger, like the march of an encroaching army while feral animal noises help escalate the tension.

Have you ever woken from a dream that was so vivid but so obscure that you found it hard to explain its nature? That’s ‘In Ferneaux’ in a nutshell.

Order In Ferneaux by Blanck Mass via Sacred Bones HERE