Area C, Sea of Rains (Handmd)

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What metaphor better fits the ambient remit than that of outer space? Countless artists have striven to capture the endless possibilities of its emptiness, many more the distant planets and galaxies and their tantalizing unreachableness. But fewer have examined the humble moon. Perhaps forty years after the first landing we find it banal, "known" too well.

Erik Carson was asked by NASA itself to compose an original score for nothing less than a history of the moon in the form of an exhibition, "Mission Moon: Past, Present and Future", presented at the Museum of Natural History in Providence, Rhode Island. All the excuse in the universe to go overboard with the space whooshes is thereby offered, but instead, Carlson´s is a very restrainted and beautiful portrait of the place and the era.

Its scientifically-explainable but still mystical connection with the liquid on our planet and in our bodies is reflected in each of its six titles - "Sea of Serenity", "Mare Imbrium", "The Seething Bay". All also happen to be geographic locations on its surface. Carlson has chosen to work almost exclusively with analogue equipment, an aesthetic gesture mirroring the equipment available to electronic musicians and the space programme itself during its lunar heyday.

The suite opens with a reverent, almost sacral air, mixed with the booping and crackle of then-new technology - instrument panels, the communication devices used by the astronauts. All is projected onto a synthesized ambient firmament, each track quietly pulsing, like the blood and the breath of the men in space.

Sea of Rains also evokes nostalgia - the voices are familiar to anyone who followed these missions on television, the greatest reality show ever, reminding us of the thrill we felt then and our lost excitement about exploriing and imagining the future. The long, lone guitar of "Sea of Clouds" floats barely tethered like a man on a space walk. The "narration" at the centre of "Lake of Dreams" portrays some very sweaty minutes at mission control, short, tense guitar riffs finally abating in relief as the manouevre is completed successfully. "Ocean of Storms" works up tension like a string quartet caught in suspended animation while the guitar becomes increasingly distressed, distracting the listener as well. In a good way - you lean forward in order not to miss a thing.

The most obvious template for this commission would be Brian Eno´s "Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks", and while Carlson may have been lightly inspired by Daniel Lanois´ lapsteel guitar, this piece is all his own. Hearing it without the benefit of the exhibition visuals does not in anyway dehance the experience. Actually, it is perfect lights out music.

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