For
Bibio's
Stephen Wilkinson, everything old is new again, especially when it comes to his
Phantom Brickworks project. The first album in the series was striking in part because of how dramatically it shifted the focus of his music. Appearing after the sleek, summery grooves of
A Mineral Love,
Phantom Brickworks' ruminative ambient compositions seemed to come from an entirely different place -- abandoned and remote places deep in the Welsh countryside, to be exact.
Phantom Brickworks (LP II) arrives at a similar juncture in
Wilkinson's career. Following the jazzy R&B pop of
Bib10, it's a reminder of his range that's as majestic and contemplative as an old-growth forest.
Phantom Brickworks' reverberating pieces sounded like they could go on forever; on its sequel,
Wilkinson often gives the impression that he's picking up where those recordings left off. Guitar drones and field recordings combine to magical effect on "Dinorwic," a masterwork of foggy layers that grows more hypnotic over the course of its nearly 12-minute expanse. The longer pieces that continue the
Phantom Brickworks theme don't disappoint, either. An echoing piano motif circles around listeners in a comforting orbit on "Phantom Brickworks VI," then swirls in flurries on "Phantom Brickworks VII" before pensive drones stretch out like shadows on snow. Like its predecessor,
Phantom Brickworks (LP II) expertly balances its major statements with shorter compositions like "Sychder MCMLXXXIX," a flutey track that alludes to a 1989 drought that surfaced the ruins of Capel Celyn, a submerged North Wales village immortalized on
Phantom Brickworks. As closely linked as the albums are, it would be a mistake to assume Wilkinson is repeating himself on
Phantom Brickworks (LP II). He plays with space -- arguably ambient music's most vital element -- more creatively on pieces like the spacious gleam of "Llyn Peris" and the distant yet dense churn of "Brograve," a haunting tribute to a decaying windmill. His prominent use of vocal samples lends captivating depth to "Dorthea's Bed," which swathes listeners in infinitely rippling sighs, and to "Tegid's Court," a piece of haunted chamber music that pays shimmering homage to the mythical kingdom said to lie at the bottom of Wales' largest lake. Moments like these are brilliant in their own right and as part of the album's whole.
Phantom Brickworks (LP II) is a lovely continuation of the project -- the inspiration
Wilkinson takes from crumbling ruins and eroding landscapes still sounds fresh, and his gift for imbuing washes of sound with tremendous heart and sense of place is still unrivaled. ~ Heather Phares