To poorly paraphrase John Cage from his book Silence, if you pay close enough attention, anything can become interesting, and a source of inspiration. It's only when we try to ignore something-- say, a sound-- that it becomes annoying or boring.

I'm not sure of the universality of that statement, but such is the case with Champaign, Illinois' Laterna on its long-delayed sophomore album, . All instrumental, and performed exclusively on guitar, ARP synth, and drum kit, features 12 ambient, minimalist treks through inner and outer space. If you allow them, the songs will just kind of hang there like an old landscape painting in your grandmother's parlor that no one ever looks at. But if you're in the right frame of mind (maybe after a couple cups of coffee), the record immerses you in a idyllic, windswept world of sound. It's the kind of music that might accompany a film adaptation of Ray Bradbury's : safe and sentimental, while simultaneously implying a darker, harsher world.