Jason Vitelli has never been an artist to sit still, and 2. No Wave Gaze finds the Brooklyn-based composer leaning fully into that restlessness. The album is the second chapter in his instrumental series, but it feels less like a sequel and more like a bold left turn. Where 1. Ambient Corridors drifted quietly through shadowy spaces, this new release speaks louder and stranger, unfolding as a dense, unsettling monologue that rewards close attention.
Rooted loosely in dark ambient, art rock, and glitch, 2. No Wave Gaze resists easy categorization. Vitelli treats sound like a physical material, sculpting textures that feel abrasive one moment and strangely comforting the next. Tracks such as “Khumbu Icefall” and “Train Alarm” showcase his fascination with unconventional sound sources, like throat noises and children’s toys, while pieces like “Like Herding Cats” reveal a mournful beauty beneath the noise, helped along by the ghostly wail of his homemade Bubbalin instrument.
The album’s conceptual backbone draws inspiration from No Wave’s anti-commercial ethos and Expressionist art, and that influence is felt in the way these tracks seem to distort reality rather than describe it. This is music that challenges ideas of correctness and comfort, but the closing moments, especially the lone vocal piece “A Piece of a Sing Along,” provide an emotional anchor, subtly and safely returning the listener to port. 2. No Wave Gaze is not background music. It’s an immersive, demanding listen that confirms Vitelli’s commitment to exploration and his refusal to repeat himself.
