Machine music, yes, but reimagined through a deeply human lens. Matthias Vogt's latest work hums with circuitry, yet it breathes, stretches, and falters in ways the quantised world forgot were possible. There's no grid here, no cold precision, no recycled loops of cultural nostalgia. Instead, Vogt crafts sound in its purest form: unsampled, unbound, and untethered from the genre architectures that usually hold electronic music in check.

Recorded entirely solo, this album is less a collection of tracks than a solitary ascent. Vogt climbs beyond the machinery of club tropes, jazz improvisations, and urban ambience toward something more elemental. At its peak, the music feels alpine: clean air, open expanse, the flicker of sunlight refracted through a thin atmosphere. Pieces like Resilience and Our Vivid Memories move with a quiet, unhurried vitality, ethereal yet muscular, contemplative yet alive.

This is synthesizer music, but not in the lineage of minimalism or retro futurism. Vogt's compositions are introspective and focused. When the album reaches Love Is A Pure Sensation and A Perfect Picture, two luminous hymns to tenderness, Vogt reveals another influence, an echo of Paddy McAloon's romantic architecture filtered through the circuitry of the self.

The closing moments feel almost deliberate in their openness. This is not closure, but continuation, a door left ajar. Vogt's journey through sound, solitude, and synthesis doesn't end here; it merely pauses at a plateau, the air thinning, the horizon still calling.