While the cello is not an uncommon instrument to leap the outwards-pointed spear-fence that surrounds classical music, it is one that rarely forms the basis of non-classical compositions. Rarely, but not never, as this record proves. Zoë Keating, the matching cellist to violist Matt Howden, also plays with Rasputina just like Matt Howden used to play with Sol Invictus. There seems a large correspondence between the two, not in what they sound like, but in the way their music is constructed. Both using looping equipment to build up their songs layer by layer, both multitasking their instrument of choice. Due to the multidimensionality of the cello, however, Keating can be uncompromising and appoints more tasks to her cello, where Howden usually has drums or a Cajon for. First rhythms, then harmonies and finally melodies exploit every aspect and way of playing that the cello seems rich. Sometimes, even drones to form a sturdier basis, and seemingly apparent from the album’s title, at maximum, sixteen layers have formed. These often differ in moods: imposing, provoking and sometimes even aggressive drones oppress their contrasting, light and sorrowful covers. Like a cage bending and losing hope to hold what’s within.

Keating sets a physically and emotionally strong album that is both accessible and original. The songs are as varied as the layer-play and the crescendos work in the typical yet effective post-rock way. Later on the album, these shift into ambient territory, but without losing the high sense of flow and dynamics. It is highly recommended to listen to this slap of plastic might you not have heard it. It is also recommended to listen to it again in case you have.