� � La Conjuration Sacree is the most recent offering of dark kosmische ambience from Aleph Naught, the Honduras-based outfit that brought us that excellent Rituals tape on the French black metal label Infernal Kommando a couple of years ago. This newer recording delivers a similar set of gorgeous phantasmagoric drift-music, a kind of mournful ghost music that draws equally from classic 70's space electronics and the grim pulse of early industrial.

� � The tape begins with an eerie piano melody that drifts in on "Let The Corpse Of Mind Lie Unburied At The Edge Of The Great Sea", the keys rising up in clusters of dissonant sound and fragments of broken, formless beauty, then dropping away as the sound transforms into something even more minimal and creepy. High, sustained tones rise and burn away in the crepuscular glow of the music, more of that ghostly piano becoming lost in the murk of Aleph Naught's atmospheric tape hiss and deep subterranean rumblings echoing through the earth. Later, the music shifts into more of a subdued kosmische-influenced sound, layers of soft warbling keyboards drifting over a haze of low-fi murk, minimal shimmering tones tumbling through a fog of spectral drones, strains of orchestral drift and strange bouts of murky industrial chaos that pop up briefly throughout the tape.

� � Side two drifts out into even darker regions with "L'acephale", as clouds of black synth-fog and eerie choral voices float through more of that low-fi fog, orchestral sounds slowly twisting and warping in space, gauzy keyboards whirring beneath Aleph Naught's spectral shadowscapes. On this track, the keyboard parts sort of remind me of Gene Moore's eerie organ music for Carnival of Souls, all off-kilter and dreamlike but surrounded by swells of metallic dissonance, but then it later transforms into a nightmarish distortion of classical 70's era space music.

� � Limited to eighty-four copies, packaged in a full-color cover printed on metallic vellum stock.