Recorded in 2000 and originally released on LP in a severely limited edition, these fascinating tracks from a crucial stage of Ambarchi's career have happily resurfaced. He would soon record with a wide range of principals from the burgeoning electro-acoustic improvisation field including Keith Rowe and Christian Fennesz. Here, one can observe him moving subtly in that direction from a more purely drone-based aesthetic.

The relatively brief "Alma", for all its heavy dronage, retains something of a funky underpinning, its main throbbing rhythm unavoidably and humorously recalling Norman Greenbaum's "Spirit in the Sky" (!). It's a rich enough brew on its own, but one hears Ambarchi injecting silvery shards from adjacent areas as well as populating the stream with the odd glitch; not enough to impede the flow but merely to serve notice that new elements are emerging upriver. "Vogler" begins spacily enough, a smooth hum softly punctuated by a pop here, a crackle there but then layers in a deep, five-note pattern that establishes a kind of center, allowing for more detritus in the form of faraway beeps and an increased density of pops to circulate. It's static, but it eddies in an engrossing, slightly troubled manner. On the title track, the longest cut on the disc, the balance between the chiming, sustained tones and the rougher, staticky components is just about equal. The melodies-and the piece has several melodic lines — are sliced and diced amongst the glitches, offsetting their inherent, Eno-esque relaxedness with an itchy agitation. A secondary, darker theme is introduced, accompanied by low, mechanical buzzes and harsher static, ending in a cloud of crackle. It's a very impressive, ruthlessly driving work, a smooth-running beast that casts off showers of sparks along its way.

Listeners who have come to enjoy Ambarchi's more recent output will doubtless enjoy Persona both as a historical marker and as a beguiling recording on its own.