The cardboard sleeve is sturdy, the Spirogram ink a testimony to the fifth-dimension wonders of Contrail. The solo debut of Kane Ikin is not a flimsy attempt at minimalism, rather a successful — and particularly hardy — two-song set of ambient drone. A-side “Contrail” and B-side “Synthetic Setting” are natural complements: “Contrails” is cold, a guitar plucking out an existence in vast, frozen terrain, while “Synthetic Setting” is the summer equinox, melting away the perma-frost with warmer tones. Much like the seasons, Contrail’s two sides have more in common than their temperatures would hint, seamlessly blending into one another (which makes the flip from A to B both an annoyance and a treasured masochistic pleasure, like an unexpected May freeze or an unusually cool August afternoon). It’s a complete package on all ends, stamped with the 12k seal of approval.
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