This drifts about on very soft, high-end guitar, recorded all dead up close and that. It has titles like "Frightened, Happy" and "In a Forest With Leaves in Your Hair". Things are evoked; childish, slightly strange things. The tunes are all fairly short: pop songs with large chunks left to fall out and be replaced by shadows of noise. Some have vocals, some don't. The scant vocals that aren't just sighing noises have that same soppy drawl that you hear again and again from US bands: "All that I want is to dream tonight" they drizzle.
The album title is an ancient Greek word for the stuff of the Universe and literally means "limitless"; but this sounds so limited. A handful of instruments going through a handful of moves with a handful of results. Another bag of forgettable ideas slung onto the heap and left behind. Another conversation I cannot be arsed to enter.
"Flowering of the Middle Ages" pushes its head out of the bucket a tad by putting a Renaissance choir in an echo chamber - but too little, too late.
Time was when I couldn't make out the lyrics in tunes. Whenever I do of late, it doesn't seem to end very happily. Am I being too fussy? No.
Rating: Puddles out of Dampth