Chicago-based warper of the space-time continuum
Ken Camden began his foray into solo astral traveling with 2010's
Lethargy & Repercussion, an album that felt mired in the dusty cosmic atmospheres of the more textural side of '70s Krautrock while very much bred from an updated palette of sounds. The album had the same spaced-out, wandering viewpoint as the rhythmless drones and zones of
Cluster or
Klaus Schulze, but its drawn-out pieces benefited from 30-some extra years of digital recording technology. Sophomore follow-up
Space Mirror follows the same spectral path, transforming his guitar playing into a glistening and fantastical vision of space travel through meticulous processing and editing. The airy synth-like arpeggios that open "Spectacle" quickly give way to buzzing distorted guitar noodling, reminiscent of the reflecting pools of rippling sound that made up Fripp & Eno's legendary No Pussyfooting sessions. Comparisons can also be drawn to like-minded sonic adventurers a little closer in time to
Camden's recording history, like the similarities to
Emeralds guitarist
Mark McGuire's nostalgic melodic sense on songs like "Trapezium" or
Tim Hecker's dark cloudiness on "Moon."
Camden's focus on the vastness and emptiness of unknown worlds comes through as he patiently unravels his celestial navigations. The world of instrumental, drone-based space rock is often messy and flailing, but the six pieces here avoid many of the pitfalls of the genre through their sharp composition and attention to detail and balance. Closing track "Dominic Sunset" is the best example of this, as it slowly builds on a repeating, splintered loop, growing to mountainous yet restrained heights before receding into a lengthy conclusion that evokes lunar dust being blown about on the surface of the moon. It's an unexpectedly soft twist that comes right when the song should break into an uproar, and it coasts the listener back down to Earth gently. Much like the rest of
Space Mirror, this moment reminds us that
Camden is in complete control of every volume swell, every surge of delay, and every neatly considered guitar outburst. ~ Fred Thomas