Funny how the little things make such a big difference when it comes to New Age albums: for every thirty snore-inducing piano led compilations of utter tripe, there's usually an album by some talented bloke who knows a goddamn thing or two about atmosphere and texture. Jοии Sεяяie, ladies and gents, is one such distinguished individual amidst a sea of snoozers. This late 80's ditty was played the fuck out of at various planetariums across the planet when it first hit shelves, and for good reason: when it comes to experiencing celestial phenomena, this is fine accompaniment indeed to a few bong hits and some spiced coffee. It takes the classic soundscape approach to ambience: fragments such as 'Fantasy Passages' breathe deep as they swirl about in their blissful little vacuums.
This record is, simply put, the darkling stuff that dreams are made of.
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