For its inaugural release of 2025, Past Inside The Present proudly offers a powerful set of new pieces from experimental ambient veteran bvdub (aka Brock Van Wey), simply titled 13. Across its duration, spacious arrangements nest in clouds of reverb, underscored by granular details and entrancing synth arpeggiations. According to Van Wey – a long time scholar of Eastern ideas and literature – every section represents one edict or idea from chapter 13 of the Tao Te Ching, the foundational text of Taoist doctrine, which promotes humility and freedom from desire as the core elements of a peaceful existence.

On opening track, “宠”, constellations of flickering melodies dapple a backdrop of airy, slowly shifting harmonies, while “辱” (track 2) introduces bubbling keys and a maelstrom of pulsing low-end, warping and yowling as they whip across the stereo field. At times, we hear echoes of the hardware-based works of pioneers like Global Communication and The Orb, with shades of sci-fi futurism balanced by organic complexity and human vulnerability. 

The cover image of 13 is taken directly from a Chinese edition of the Tao Te Ching, whose characters convey the intricacy of the chapter’s message only when cross-referenced as a whole; each one is a simpler idea that offers only a vague fragment. In much the same way, these pieces must be heard collectively in order to gain the full experience of their varied climes and conjurings. From oceanic depths to astronomical boundlessness, 13 provides a heady dose of cosmic scale, appropriately reflected by the section of the Tao Te Ching that inspired it:

Accept being unimportant.
Do not be concerned with loss and gain.

Surrender yourself humbly; then you can be trusted to care for all things.

Love the world as your own self; then you can truly care for all things.

Throughout 13’s second half, layers of propulsive patterns weave together, graced by soft distortion, and dubby motifs gather in soaring, windswept currents. On “失” (track 6) and “故” (track 9), we reach a peak of rapturous intensity, but the album’s two-part finale bears a particular gravity, as “托” (track 12) draws back to delicate, distant strings with confident elegance and a sense of lamentation. In the closing minutes of “天” (track 13), a vibrant sunset breaks through roiling darkness, its heartbreaking loveliness born from visceral volume.

Across nearly two decades worth of releases, Van Wey has applied his unmistakable production style to downtempo breaks, minimal techno, and harmonic noise, always maintaining a terrestrial grittiness and undercurrent of shadowy beauty. Collaborations with like-minded standard bearers — including Loscil and Netherworld, as well as PITP alumni James Bernard and Inquiri — have further developed his versatility and unpredictability, but 13 is a pure distillation of his expertise in beatless excursions. Curiously, by focusing on the sacrifice of the self, and pursuing the noble goal of nothingness, he has created one of the most substantial and stirring collections in his monumental catalog.