Slow, consistent bumps. Is that how Ostrich’s stroll through the passage of their lives? Add a few high and low synths and you might have a point there. But wait, what about the acid? It’s all part of the greater Ostrich at large. Axefield’s opening ode to the exotics is a lucid dream in which your answers are questioned by a tropical animal as the steady beat thumps on and the hypnotising synths make you swing left and right. As the filter flings the hallucinogenic Ostrich Ride To Other away, the palm trees turn into riverbeds and clear crystal dreams. Was this the other side? I don’t know. You don’t speak Ostrich either. All we know is that you should ride the darned thing by its wings. If you would have listened you would have heard.
And on we go. You’re sitting on the thing now. You might as well Walk Under The Falls. Gloomy water trickles down the trunks of unidentified trees. You look around you and are enveloped by faraway cries. In search of life, you stop and listen. It is just at this moment that all noise is cancelled down to a single voice, which talks about ballistic missiles and delivery systems. What animal style could he possible be on about? He’s going to tell us, and as he does, the speed takes off. Confident hi-hats wrap themselves around the muffled vibes and glittery piano synths. A female comes into play, but we can’t understand what she’s saying. We do hear laughter, but her voice has been chopped up by modern-day possibilities. No I don’t, she whispers. You decide to trek on, but you must keep standing under these falls.
You reach the cliff you’ve been searching for. Tribal drums and foreign flutes trap your vision but you are the Last Minute Man who has been destined to figure out what all of this means. You take a break and fall into a deep sleep. Systematic, deep acid controls your thoughts now. The wind brushes past your face and you know you’re that man now. It’s becoming more of a ritual now. A hollow item is tapped on to get this tube-like sound that will stay in your memory for many fortnights to come. Though the wav-lengths of this track stay in equal flow, this is an absolute hidden gem exposed by the absurdity of Man.
Having by now gathered enough strength to welcome the Power of Resonance, you see the beach. It’s quite, but the energy cannot be doubted. Step off your Ostrich now, close your eyes and spread your arms to catch momentary reason. Because why are you here, Mr. Last Minute Man? All along you’ve been subconsciously building something that only now starts to make sense. The levels are high, and it is Axefield who manages to drop this pressure by relieving us from our tribal, exotic, lucid experience with his final smack at our sanity. This closing track extends from the beach to the dance floor, from your roof to your forgotten cellars with rich wines dusting away down there, from the machines used to make this right through your waxed-up eardrums.