THE VOID ATLAS I
Something enormous is holding still above you and won’t say how far. The instruments still read. There is simply nothing left to read them against — no horizon, no floor, no fixed star to take a bearing from. Six pieces that describe a place by declining to name it, and a last light that turns out to have been below you the whole time.
This is the open one of the three. There is room above the drone and it moves more than the two records that follow it. Play it loud enough that the low end becomes a physical fact, or quiet enough that you forget it is running — both are correct.
Three volumes cut from one session and released across five weeks. All three are dark; what changes between them is depth, not light — I is the shallow survey, II the mid-water, III the floor.