Gabriel Le Mar’s music seems to have no limits in the breadth and scope of its magisterial remit. Equally savvy in exposing both the tyranny of the beat and the elegaic vastness of skyrushing ambience, his abilities are notable for their exquisite sense of sonic dynamics, atmospheres comprised of a veritable melting canvas of colorful brushstrokes and beautifully tinted auras. On what is called their open source project RCO—meaning Radical Chill Out—Le Mar and regular cohort Dr. Motte energize the psychedelic personal spaces first eked out by Terence McKenna’s philosophical headstates (and whose think tank motifs spice up the beat-burnished rhythmic vortices of “Cutnotree”), gene-spliced with mid 90s’ IDioMatics, and the gentle, machine-code blurp so beloved of others of similar stripe, era, and ilk (re: the Black Dog, Atom Heart, etc.). There is something warmly nostalgic and welcoming in the duo’s softly shifting, slo-mo techno throb, a sense of the ‘new’ if you will, albeit one that embraces the reverberant, tactile maxims from those many decades ago. Brought to bear on new ears and realized with contemporary equipment to match, RCO chrome-stamp a gripping slab of new cold fusion.