The Remote Viewers represent the archetypal sui generis musical entity. Their line-up consists of varying permutations of more or less permanent members (David Petts, Adrian Northover, Sue Lynch, John Edwards, Caroline Kraabel) who, from time to time, recruit collaborators for a particular project. In this instance, they welcomed the contributions of Rosa Theodora, whose piano is a pivotal element in "Inside The Blizzard", and trumpeter Hutch Demouiplied, who participated in two tracks on "Trivia". As usual, the core of the group is occupied with saxophones, flutes and programming (Petts, Northover, Lynch, Kraabel), plus double bass (Edwards).

The title(s) provide a straightforward hint regarding this release, comprising in fact two distinct compositions divided into five and eight segments respectively, with diverse instrumental combinations. A decision was made to combine these relatively short works onto a single CDR, even if they are presented separately on Bandcamp. Despite this organization, no significant stylistic contradictions arise. The Viewers' unique approach remains consistently in evidence, principally highlighting entangled counterpoints that sound as if they were sculpted from balsa wood using a razor blade. The result of this process exhibits a severe dissonance, and is frequently typified by a minimalist drive that may occasionally verge on obsessive. Yet it will also appear exceptionally clever and ear-pleasing to discerning listeners, mild perturbation and utter gratification walking hand in hand.

It can happen that one or more of the wind instruments are left uncontrolled, losing touch with the mathematical coordination typical of much of the scores, and crumbling all form in a sort of semi-authorized homage to free. This is finely exemplified by the solos within "The Tank in The Clinic", opener of "Inside The Blizzard". However, during the scored sections our mind keeps picturing a well-coordinated, but still very strange dance of a puppet ensemble, shades of Michael Nyman and Tom Johnson intersecting with the eerie atmosphere of a Dario Argento movie. In this and other episodes, a kind of edginess influenced by concatenations of oblique clusters and repetitive fragments of melody takes shape, soundtracking our acquisition of the acoustic data. Only when everything has ceased do we realize that we now miss that discipline. And that low-budget drum machine as well.