Sam Rosenthal is the mastermind behind Projekt Records, and has also come to be known for the quality music he has released with Black Tape for A Blue Girl. Sometimes he releases music under various guises, but rare is it that he steps out under his birth name. The Passage finds him in solo territory, and the album—which is, in essence, a 45 minute song—one that is the expansion of 1999’s song from Black Tape for a Blue Girl’s album As one aflame laid bare by desire, is as cold, bleak, and amniotic as one might expect. This is the sound of a tundra, or the sound of an ocean journey, or the sound of in utero. In other words, music that is gentle, fluid, and encompasses the passage of your choice. But it’s the gentle textures, the little flourishes here and there, that make the listening essential; sure, you can put this next to recordings by Brian Eno, Aphex Twin, Harold Budd, or William Basinski, and it would be hard to distinguish. There’s a second track, the ten minute “Rae,” which blasts open “The Passage” with warm, invigorating light. Childbirth? Clouds breaking? Emerging from the depths? You get the idea. This second track is necessary to complete the first. Gorgeous stuff.
