I don't understand how Erik Carlson has managed to stay so woefully underappreciated and low-profile for so long, as he has a very distinctive and appealing aesthetic.  Also, he has recently been largely infallible quality-wise. That hot streak continues here: wisely sticking closely to the sound he intermittently perfected with 2009's excellent Charmed Birds Against Sorcery, Carlson has delivered yet another impressive album of spidery, shimmering beauty.  It could benefit from a bit more bite though.
The core of Carlson's artistry lies in repetition, but he brings a deftness and lightness of touch to it that makes his vision uniquely his own.  Rather than sounding like a contemporary drone artist or a Reich-indebted minimalist, Erik manages to sound like a dream pop-damaged Oval: Map of Circular Thought is teaming with insistent glitchy-sounding loops that provide a rhythmic bed for warm organ drones and fragile, twinkling guitars.  On the album's lesser songs, the music shimmers and glitters quite pleasantly, but the pieces that truly shine are those where Carlson works a dark undercurrent into his narcotic dreamscapes like "Felt, Not Seen."  Around the ten-minute mark, the previously toothless reverie begins throbbing and quavering quite ominously and the remaining third of the song is spent in a disquieting nightmare.  The transition from light to dark is a very unexpected and seamless one, which is one of the things that I love so much about Area C: the mood of a song can turn with absolutely no warning.  It's a great trick– I wish Erik did it more often, but I guess I would start to expect it then (which, of course, he has probably already anticipated).  I cannot hope to outwit him.
In general, it is the longer songs that work best here, such as "In Toward the Wires" or the slowly pulsing drone epic "Ebbs to a Steady Burn," as Carlson is at his most emotionally rich and dazzling when he gives himself a lot of time to work.  Area C definitely requires some patience to fully appreciate, as Erik works very slowly and painstakingly: his intricate lattices of hazy drones and sparkling treated guitars are in no hurry at all to build to their full mesmerizing power.  Many of the shorter pieces boast some striking passages too, but hypnotic repetition, attention to nuance, and layering tend to be most effective when I am fully immersed in a song.  Area C is time-lapse photography for the ears.
As a progression from Charmed Birds, Map of Circular Thought is a bit of a lateral move.  On the one hand, it is clear that Carlson has become still more adept at compositional tactics like artfully weaving together multiple tracks, creating a pulse, and transitioning from one mood to another.  Also, I think his mood palette has expanded a bit.  However, he seems to have taken a significant step backwards texturally, as the lack of occasional bursts of harshness makes the woozy, looping, dreaminess of the album drag a bit.  Such touches do make some appearances, like the guitar noise and feedback in "In Toward the Wires," but they're often too submerged in the mix to make the needed impact.  Charmed Birds' better pieces were enhanced quite a bit by the well-timed use of scrapes, static, and voice snippets and I think those elements provide a very necessary counterbalance to Area C's drifting warmth.  I wouldn't be frustrated if I didn't have extremely high expectations though.  This is definitely a fine album by a master of his craft, but it is a bit too perfect and grit-free to be his masterpiece.
 
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