This is an immensely purposeful piece of guitar drone. West Winds never seems to drift aimlessly as drone can often stand accused, this represents the genre at its best; thought-provoking, stirring, emotional. It constantly seems focussed on some inevitable, dramatic conclusion which never fully materialises, leaving the impression that the album is a merely a vignette of some greater movement, a hint of a colossal, omnipresent force, the earth’s atmosphere itself becoming a weighty, irrepressible presence. There is an intense focus, but far from being physical jab, it is a celebral, beyond-conscious stare into the sky and beyond; into the huge empty void that engulfs us constantly.

Primarily a guitarist with avant-droner’s Barn Owl, Caminiti utilises a more complex palette of sound on West Winds; acoustic guitar, electric guitar, piano and harmonium all feature heavily. From the first startling guitar strums on Night Of The Archeon you know this is going to be a special listen. From there on, thick, acrid electric guitar static engulfs proceedings. Westward Sun is built around a wonderfully mournful piano refrain. On Dust Caminiti’s guitar playing again becomes momentarily tangible, echoing amongst hovering drones it is an ethereal varient on John Fahey’s intense finger-picking. Final track Black Desert Blooming starts with intent, reminiscent in mood and texture of Yellow Swans’ amazing Going Places, but by the end has turned into the album’s quietest, most pensive moment; leaving you with a feeling of total solitude as humanity is revealed to be a whimpering presence against the vastness of the cosmos. Irrelevance is a strangely comforting feeling.