Christian Löffler's music signals an upward curve of rising intensity from which everything non-essential drops away. Essential in the sense of introspective. For example, the kick drum thuds along reasonably unassuming in the beginning of one of the tracks before it is swept / sucked / turned into itself. Dancing, sure, but with one foot in a dream. Always the oncoming of the new, always the crackling which is coming and which has gone before as a foundation / base, these oscillating, as if absent / absentminded, chords tilt into each other as they almost orbit outside of the sphere of the music. A sphere that only pertains to me, the listener, of which I wouldn't have known without this music. These sickle-ended hi-hats like seagulls, or the heavy oceanic beating and consuming / embracing bass lines rolling forward and backward in the oblique beauty of the hanging clearings. (...or the beating and all-encompassing bass of this heavy sea rolling...) A FOREST, for example, casts Tejada-esque shadows but without timpani / kettle drum and only with meandering delays. Yes, I remember the morning sunlight on the day I heard BLIND or FIELD. Or SIGNALS, a track on which Arvo Pärt could have played the pate, of which the tintinnabular style of bells beautifully infuses the dance floor. And it's not just the volume that increases, it's also the proverbial heart.