The line forged between ambiance and noise is a particularly spiny fault-line, one seemingly occupied by the vast majority of electro-acoustic performers. Sonnamble, the duo of Conor Curran (CjC) and Peter Marsh, align themselves with the same camp, though their first album, last year’s Seven Months In E Minor, carried a wider worldview than the average navel-gazing bout of recreational sonar, actively attempting to create a world where their economy of sound lies. Blindlight, their second release for Forwind, continues this line of thinking, though it carries both a shorter duration and a barren aural structure, adding a palpable isolation and set-pieces with more bite. This is still music for focused listeners, taking intense pleasure in the valleys of digital tones and challenging those who might rough it through its jagged peaks.

It’s amazing how much mileage you can get out of a  processed lap steel guitar; Marsh’s weapon of choice is warped by Curran into a spiky monolith of screaching permeate. It sounds corporeal and vaguely sentient, as if it’s slowly following it’s audience through out the rest of Blindlight’s wasteland. On top of the bed of  hollow static, it serves as the work’s only long-term tenant, other than the jovial conversations featured on “Society”. By focusing on a smaller sonic arsenal, Sonnamble not only focus their work, they amplify the effectiveness of the little they give. While their sonic landscapes would be falsely described as “action packed”, the intensity of isolation becomes its own driving force. Ultimately, the record finds itself just a few steps beyond above-average stimulation and a few steps before mental expansion. It probably could have benefited from more of the contrast in structure that makes it interesting, possibly in the form of breezier pathways to the more jagged areas of the record. The pain is short, though its lasting mark isn’t as strong as it potentially could have been.

Blindlight is available now on digital formats.