� An impressive, rather eclectic collection of artists has been assembled for this tribute to the works of legendary filmmaker Ingmar Bergman. Persistence In Mourning, Fear Konstruktor, Swamp Horse, Terence Hannum, Ryan Unks, and King Dude are each given an entire side of one of the three cassettes included in this set, where they essentially create their own alternate soundtracks to the films Persona, Face to Face, Wild Strawberries, From the Life of the Marionettes, The Serpent's Egg, and Summer with Monika, respectively, the sounds ranging from bleak experimental drone to abstract low-fi doom metal to crushing dark power electronics.

� Persistence In Mourning's "Dualitet (A Modernist Horror)" sprawls out for nearly twenty minutes, first taking form as a mysterious folk-flecked dronescape where a lonely acoustic guitar is slowly strummed over strange vocal samples, distant shrieks and whirring mechanical hum, then slowly begins to reveal faint, distant guitar leads off in the distance. A strange withered folk dirge laced with dissonance and feedback, eerie and more than a little damaged. That eventually drifts off into tangles of harsh noise and raging power electronics, passages of plaintive slow moving piano ambience, and then turns into the sort of clanking low-fi funeral doom that this project is best known for. When the heaviness finally kicks in, it's a crushing, almost industrial-tinged dirge of super-heavy riffage and metallic percussion. Another grueling assault of extreme doom and experimental weirdness from this noteworthy outfit.

� The Fear Konstruktor side starts out with a creepy minimal soundscape of chiming sounds and nocturnal noises. whirring metallic drone and chirping crickets, but then bits of dissonant piano and other instruments begin to creep in, fragments of sinister reverb-drenched sound that slowly begin to increase the feel of unease, growing more malevolent as the track progresses. The second half transforms into an extremely abstract, surreal noisescape that goes from minimal dark ambience to strange symphonies of sampled sound to a roar of distorted guitar noise and murky doom-drone riffs rumbling through the ether.

� Featuring Josh Lay from low-fi black noise metallers Glass Coffin and Morgan Rankin from Lay's old grind/noise band Cadaver In Drag, Swamp Horse belt out a killer dose of murky shoegazy ambience, swirling choral drones and eerie cello-like melodies unfurling off in the distance, the sound shifting between an almost Loveless-like cloud of incandescent feedback drift, and creepier, more dissonant clusters of hypnotic, instrumental post-rock guitar and deformed synth. An intoxicating mix of murky industrial sounds, blown-out metallic drone rock, mournful slowcore and primitive electronic horror-movie soundtrack influences.

� Locrian's Terence Hannum offers up two of his minimal synth-based pieces, "I Dreamed That I Was Sleeping / I Dreamed That I Was Dreaming". This is gorgeously creepy stuff, billowing black clouds of murky synthesizer drone and ghostly, glimmering feedback swirling with these super eerie little melodies that circle around and around within these clouds of shadow and reverb. The tracks grow more intricate and more powerful, the blown-out melodies becoming consumed by blasts of crushing black synthdrone, transforming into searing blasts of mournful, apocalyptic power electronics.

� Ryan Unks (formerly of The Human Quena Orchestra and Creation Is Crucifixion) delivers a strange industrial dirge that starts off by piling heaps of distorted low-end and rumbling noise onto a shambling, slow-motion drumbeat slathered in crashing cymbals, then drops off into a long stretch of super-minimal feedback drift, whirring drones fading off into the depths. This stretched-out feedback and bits of abstract glitch are slowly transformed into an expanse of gleaming electronic thrum, becoming strangely haunting as it slowly burns out, fading into the distance.

� The last side features an untitled epic of ghostly psych/folk ambience from King Dude, an eerie almost Goblin-like array of distant drums and percussion, ghostly acoustic strings, delay-drenched whispers, distant wailing vocals and droning keyboards, the sound super dark and murky and evocative. The vocals are an indistinct moaning mantra, deep buzzing chant drifting out of the depths, curling like tendrils of black smoke around the morose strum of the acoustic guitar. And the steady, regal blare of breath through hollowed-out gazelle antlers resounds like unearthly trumpets far off over the horizon, leading the twenty-minute song into increasingly sparse and ritualistic depths of shambling cave-psych and dark kosmische drift.

� The package design for this compilation is striking, the three tapes housed in a clear plastic case with a large fold-out black cover insert printed with metallic silver ink, everything tied together with an interesting, minimal visual concept. Very cool. Limited to two hundred copies.