Bleep

To call Laraaji one of history’s key New Age figures somehow feels like an understatement. Working like a picaro of ambient music, seemingly appearing zither in tow where ever there are luminous drones to be unwound and ascendancies to be achieved, alongside the likes the Eno brothers Brian and Roger, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Robert Fripp. Save for the presence of producer Michael Brook, 1992’s Flow Goes The Universe presents one of the occasions where Laraaji went relatively unaccompanied into the world.

Few ambient works come as titanic and conversely granular than the 25-minute piece ‘Being Here’, which could easily provide a litmus test for the uninitiated; Laraaji’s zither seems to expand and contract with an almost rhythmic inhale-exhale, showcasing the composer’s uncanny ability to convey infinite music with a real sense of cosmic alignment — and even a little endearing humour. Meanwhile, the likes of ‘A Cave in England’ and ‘Zither Dance’ provide further essences of Laraaji’s career-sustained characteristics, the former derived from a recording of the titular echoing, flowing space, the latter an exercise in deep, percussive psychedelia, where each hit seems lighter than air.

Flow Goes The Universe is not just a key Laraaji release; it may also be one of the finest ambient works ever created.