��With The Mirror Reversed, Funerary Call finds itself at a point far removed from the project's early black metal / ritual ambient experiments borne out of the shadows of the Ross Bay Cemetery. Here, Harlow MacFarlane and his long-running solo project explores a more meditative strain of stygian ambient music, a sleek electronic minimalism poured into a single album-length track that draws inspiration from Kabalistic themes; the whole feel of this album is markedly different from previous works. The nearly fifty minute long album starts off creepily enough with swells of discordant, glitchwarped sound, surges of backwards symphonic roar slowly undulating in the deep, hidden layers of the mix, the sounds slowly reforming into a sort of blackened kosmische creep that spreads ever outward across the album. Wet cetacean pulses ripple outward from the vitreous surface of The Mirror, as this abstracted, orchestral ambience slowly drifts through space, sending off constant pulsars of damaged horn-like tones and distorted electronics into the depths, while deeper in the mix, sinister rattling noises echo through the blackness, the clatter of bone-rattles dissipating deeper into the void.

�� The discordant electronic ambience later evolves into more threatening passages of whirling reverb and ominous subterranean drones, venturing deeper into stretches of Lustmordian blackness further into the album. That lingering influence of classic space music starts to become a little more apparent the further you get into the album; one definitely gets the impression that Macfarlane was absorbing a lot of German space music prior to creating this album, and the ghostly fingerprints of Klaus Schulze and early Tangerine Dream glow faintly all throughout The Mirror Reversed, but they're draped in so much wraithlike shadow and sepulchral murmur that the music more often resembles transmissions of some time-stretched Arvo Part piece or the echoing industrial noisescapes and icy metallic drones of Arcane Device (as possessed by necromantic forces) than the nostalgic, kosmische-influenced VHS soundtrack revival that's been in vogue lately. Later on, the sound drifts into warped, backwards rhythms and stretches of minimal quietude, sudden eruptions of malevolent, throbbing movement and deep bass pulsations, and submerged, barely formed melodies, the track eventually transforming into a mass of wobbly, nightmarish tones and bizarre dubby bass drops towards the end, clinking metallic noises surfacing and becoming woven into an increasingly bleak tapestry of deathside electronics, finally entering into depths of almost Hoor-Paar-Kraatian nocturnal weirdness at the very end.

�� Comes in digisleeve packaging, released in a limited edition of five hundred copies.