Modular, Moog-y, buoyantly bubbling, blinking, and buzzing, Gatherings is the third album from illustrator and musician Adam Higton, aka Cosmic Neighbourhood. Eccentric, a little bit bonkers, barmy perhaps, Adam’s music, cocoon-like, creates its own world. One decidedly sunny in outlook. Simpler, innocent, sealed off from the shit storm that often seems to surround us. Dials are twisted, knobs twiddled, and buttons pushed. Birthing wonderfully wonky, wobbly notes. In the process, he references library music, Cluster’s calm kosmische, and the playful, pioneering electronics of people such as Pierre Henry.  

Amid the flickering frequencies, and pastoral patches, sine waves sing happily, sometimes unruly, getting carried away and doing their own thing. Woodwinds, what could be reeds, plucked and bowed strings, stirred in with the glissando-ing plugged-in gear, and busy birdsong-like blips and bleeps. Synthesising sleepy afternoon siestas from “ancient” / vintage ring tones. Echo washing hushed vocal harmonies, bathed in the amassed musical machinery’s pretty coloured flashing lights. Critterpillar is a symphony of initially abstract sound effects, that summons something almost Sun Ra. Flutterby conjures the kinda country-fied chamber music of Pete Astor’s Ellis Island Sound. 

A polite electro-acoustic adventure, a damn fine foray into “folk-tronica”, the LP is an absolute “must listen” for fans of fellow illustrator, Matt Sewell’s A Crushing Glow. A brilliant mix of Basil Kirchin’s jazzier, more easily accessible bits, and Ghost Box grooves, its jolly oscillations sound like the Silver Apples on summer holiday. The perfect soundtrack for a picnic or gentle punt. 

Cosmic Neighbourhood’s Gatherings is out now on Rivertones.