According to its creator, Alex Monk‘s fourth album —the follow-up to 2010′s wonderful The Safety Machine— “explores the tension between innocence and experience that late adolescence can evoke.” I would say, however, that this is a very personal exploration of a very specific adolescence; one endured in a rural village or small town, introverted and largely alone, one more absorbed in nature, landscape and the changing seasons than social pressures, career ambitions and drunken nights out. Not that I’m suggesting that Alex Monk was a clean-limbed Boy Scout solely occupied by bracing country walks and pure thoughts of a subtly religious nature; the game-changing discoveries of sex, hash and LSD are surely the engines that keep this record turning, buried and unmentioned as they are. But if you’re looking for a well-observed dissection and reflection of contemporary urban teenage existence, then you should probably look elsewhere. If, however, your transition from childhood to young adulthood can be reflected in an impressionistic collage of dream and memory, a sonic patchwork of acid folk and ambient electronics, then step through the looking glass and join Alex Monk on the other side. […] — Ben Graham, The Quietus