Scottish composer/multi-instrumentalist Andrew Wasylyk launched a trilogy of interconnected albums with 2017's Themes for Buildings and Spaces, which led to 2019's The Paralian and concludes with the gorgeous capstone of 2020 album Fugitive Light and Themes of Consolation. Each chapter of Wasylyk's trilogy is made up of lush and contemplative instrumentals, with Fugitive Light being the most inward-looking and nostalgic of the trio. Over the record's ten tracks, Wasylyk evokes images of rural countrysides, the first rays of dawn breaking on autumn mornings, and blurry late-night rambles, bending unlikely combinations of influences around his unique compositional voice. Opening track "A Further Look at Loss" pairs austere, minimal piano chords with gliding string arrangements to set a mood that's thoughtful without ever becoming too somber. The slinky bass line and shuffling drums that kick in add a groove to the song's emotional precision, recalling the laid-back atmospheres of Serge Gainsbourg, David Axelrod, or lesser-known Brazilian musician Arthur Verocai. Throughout the album Wasylyk shapeshifts fluidly between approaches. "Last Sunbeams of Childhood" is a soft, warbly light jazz meditation somewhere between the mid-'70s roster of ECM Records and Chicago's post-rock scene of the mid-'90s. Wasylyk's instrumentations are dense, with the harp-led "Fugitive Light Restless Water" opening up into a thick arrangement of brass and woodwinds. The result sounds like a lost collaboration between Alice Coltrane and Van Dyke Parks. There's a minimal electronic presence (a theremin here, some understated drum machine notes there), but the album seems informed by an overarching awareness of how electronic music and jazz have historically intersected. The found sounds of children at play or busy city streets that ripple beneath hopeful compositions nod to Boards of Canada as much as they recall Wasylyk's peers on the International Anthem label. Fugitive Light is a brilliant achievement, subtly capturing a very specific feeling and presenting what could be heavy-handed material with an almost offhand smoothness. It's the perfect soundtrack for a reflective solitary walk, rich with beautiful details and precisely constructed emotional statements, but open-ended enough to be a blank canvas for personal contemplation.