Mario Costa is a prolific, yet largely unknown and obscure, Italian ambient artist who has come to my attention via a number of releases under a variety of pseudonyms. Costa has recorded as the unheard by me Sistrum, the somewhat Zoviet*France-sounding Tumulus Seraphim, and the extremely environmental and trippy Sostrah Tinnitus. This mysterious ambient project has so far yielded two LPs, a self-released EP, and at least one more album on the way soon. Lest I become swamped by Costa's prolific release schedule, on toward the review of Sostrah Tinnitus's two terrific albums.

The first of the duo is Les Débris De L’été, released on the black/extreme metal label Beyond Productions. First glance at the cover reminds me of the Hic Sunt Leones label, most specifically the psychoactive works of Alio Die; an appropriate imagery because Sostrah Tinnitus dwells in the same mystical environments as Stefano Musso's excellent projects. The album begins with "Oozëë," a track extremely similar to Musso's fantastic Incantamento album, right down to the chittering insects that serve as a droning accompaniment to the various tape, synth, and sample manipulations that follow. Processed percussion, bells, chimes, and other, more inexplicable, sound effects create a zone of true ambience. Next, "Post_deflagration Tinnitus" offers a more ghostly sound, with echoed spoken dialog (as if from an old foreign film) and spectral drones that border on creepy, as though a Mario Bava soundtrack were filtered through early VidnaObmana. Stunning stuff. "Underwater Impression," a dark but vibrant dronescape, conjures up the deep sea impressionism of Biosphere--processed shakers extended into shimmering washes of sound. "Smell of Moisture After the Rain" is perhaps the most representative track on the album: lovely off-kilter piano notes are played amidst a rain-swept, lo-fi atmosphere, birds chirping, strange environmental effects, and a surprising, moaning drone that threatens to eclipse all in white noise. Tangerine Dream seems to enter the field of vision with Rubycon-like sweeps, and by this time you are absolutely in love with the album, without having heard the rest of the tracks. "Infinite Colonie di Cirripedi" plunges us into the post-industrial landscapes of early 80s experimental music, a distant, churning soundscape that waxes and wanes somewhat threateningly. Jeff Greinke fans take note; this track has the same fire as Cities in Fog, as though the landscape may be burned away by cruel progress at any time. "Spheristerion" begins with a processed clock chiming the hour, and continues the post-industrial sounds of its predecessor. One begins to feel as if time is slowing, forcibly calmed by natural or artificial means. "Senecio" exorcizes the ghost of the sorely-missed Voice of Eye; wildly-played percussion and a distinctly creepy organ stabbed together, like the left-over psych freakouts of yesteryear, channeled through a broken transistor radio. Crazy material, proving Costa's unafraid to experiment, no matter where it leads. The resonant territories of earlier tracks return on "Il Masso Che si Sposta," once again recalling the earliest work of Alio Die, where nature is manipulated and blended with the sounds of alien machinery into some new biomechanical instrument. "Deep Water Globular Floods" is effective in conjuring the mental images of its title, though it's only just over one and a half minutes--rushing, alien sounds blast over the wind-torn landscape, a vision of destruction, perhaps, but no less beautiful than creation. Finally, the title track, and my favorite on the album, offers a lovely lo-fi tone poem of processed shells and other detritus mixed with the usual processed sonics. The cricket chirps from the first track return, bringing us full circle, ending our resonant journey, compelling us to return to the start nevertheless. A fantastic album, and a must for fans of early Alio Die, the darker work of Jeff Greinke, and the Manifold label.

Débris's successor Nebra, on Gianluigi Gasparetti's Umbra label, is perhaps a more understated work, but is no less strong. It's also a more concentrated ambient effort, for the most part lacking the unbridled experimentation of its predecessor. "Novena di Falene" is a beautiful piece that reminds me of "Childhood Memories" on Oöphoi's own Time Fragments, Vol. 1. A great start, melancholy and memorable. "Rainlight Opaline" is an appropriately rain-swept atmosphere that oscillates between David Tollefson-style interstellar ambience and a hushed church ceremony of organ tones that closes the track on a gorgeous, surprising note. Marvelous material, dispelling the notion that ambient tracks must be over ten minutes to get beneath the listener's skin. "Terra Profumata per Fabbricare Vasi" inhabits the glisteningly bright zones of Jeff Pearce or Aloof Proof--phased washes of pure vibrant harmonics. "Sun Carriage" is my favorite track on the album, beginning with ticking clocks, and gradually opening into a lovely, understated tonescape that reminds of the preceding track, but is far more intense and gorgeous. For some reason, my mental imagery is thoughts of cathedrals with lancing beams of sunlight filtering through breaks in the roof. Somehow Costa instills his music here with a sense of reverence, loss, disintegration, and, above all, melancholy beauty that is singularly wonderful. Fans of VidnaObmana's earliest breathing synth works will be similarly impressed with Sostrah Tinnitus's work on "Sun Carriage." "Spore" continues the rapture, with an organ drone recalling the brightest work of Mathias Grassow. Strange subterranean sounds cluster around the drone, obscuring heaven perhaps, but always vibrating radiantly above. "Carnival" details Sostrah Tinnitus's changed demeanor on Nebra, operating as the ambient postscript to Débris track "Senecio"--avant-percussion conjoined with a bright drone, a ballet of a strange, catastrophic nature. "Il Cuore Scintillante dell'Europa" ("The Sparking Heart of Europe") is the most experimental track on Nebra, an eleven minute tableau of unrecognizable sounds, a lysergic travelogue of Europe. It's utterly entrancing, though, frankly, difficult to describe! "La Nave della Notte" closes this memorable work, with a decayed soundtrack that returns to Sostrah Tinnitus's Alio Die roots. This is a fine, traditional, environmental ambient track, and a snapshot of the best of what Costa's music has to offer.

Les Débris De L’été and Nebra have earnest differences of approach, and I hesitate to recommend one over the other. I found them both to be of uniformly high quality, and, indeed, Nebra is likely to appear on my top ten of 2004. The strength of both albums is not just in their consummately gorgeous, though difficult, natures--each track suprises, making for a diverse, constantly interesting journey that never panders to the listener's expectations. Costa's tracks feature many mood shifts and style-switches, often during tracks that clock in at less than six minutes. The skill displayed here is impressive--though style-shifting quickly, the tracks never appear disjointed, and are always marvelously composed and orderly (even at their most chaotic).

Both Les Débris De L’été and Nebra are marvelous examples of new, experimental ambient music, and I highly recommend them both. Listeners who shy away from lo-fi experimentation will want to steer clear, however, for the recording of both albums is quite primitive. Nevertheless, each is a vastly entertaining and often transcendent journey into mysterious, alien, and quite unusual zones of ambience. I sincerely hope to hear a lot more from Sostrah Tinnitus; with early albums of this caliber, we just might have a future master on our hands.

Available on Beyond Productions and Umbra records, respectively.

since July 15, 2003