Gustavo Denouard: Mysterious Wind (Digital)

From Chain DLK Oh, Mysterious Wind, how you slyly breeze in, promising serene reflection but leaving me with the unsettling sensation that the cosmos might be too vast for my petty human concerns. Gustavo Denouard’s foray into ambient drone on his 7th studio album is as personal as it is otherworldly – offering an experience that feels like staring into the void, with the faintest hope that the void will politely look away. Spoiler: it doesn’t. After spending years tinkering with synthesizers in rock and pop bands, Buenos Aires-based Gustavo finally ditched the middleman (aka structure) and let himself sink fully into electronic abstraction. And thank the ambient gods he did, because “Mysterious Wind” finds him delivering exactly the kind of album that Projekt Records was made for. It’s filled with expansive, atmospheric drones, where each note feels like it was extracted from some haunted, wind-tossed forest in the rural Argentine wilderness. As far as metaphorical isolation goes, Denouard has set the bar high. But is this a sonic meditation on nature’s quiet power – or the soundtrack for getting lost in it? Maybe both. The opening title track, “Mysterious Wind”, clocks in at 8 minutes and 40 seconds and is pure, uncut drone. The first few moments feel like the aural equivalent of stepping into thick fog. Denouard layers his synth lines with the precision of someone who’s spent countless solitary hours letting the silence speak, and in doing so, he creates an atmosphere that balances perfectly between calming and ominous. The wind metaphor is potent here – gusts of noise swell and recede, always just on the edge of being comprehensible but never quite resolving. It’s like the wind has secrets, and it’s not inclined to share them with you anytime soon. And then, there’s “Spirits”, where Gustavo shifts gears – or rather, refuses to. The track glides forward with slow, sweeping synth pads, almost mocking the listener’s desire for anything resembling a melody. It’s hypnotic in that “let’s-get-lost-in-the-vibes” way that ambient music junkies crave. Think Brian Eno’s “Music for Airports” but if the airport was located in some spectral forest where no one ever boards a plane. “Cosmic Serenity” is exactly what you think it is – except for the serenity part. The track’s soundscapes feel vast, like staring at the night sky and realizing you’re less than a speck in the universe. There’s something cold here, a sense of endlessness that’s both beautiful and terrifying. This is Denouard at his most cosmic – synths float by like distant planets, and every sound feels suspended in a sort of anti-gravity. It’s gorgeous, but don’t be fooled; there’s an emotional detachment that makes you feel eerily alone, like Gustavo composed this while floating in space, and you’re just catching fragments of his transmissions. The real surprise comes with “Forest”. You might expect a nature-inspired track to feel grounded, earthy – maybe even peaceful – but not here. Denouard’s interpretation of the forest is haunted, with deep bass drones that rumble like the earth shifting beneath your feet. It’s both ominous and introspective, as if the trees themselves are watching you, silently judging your every move. And as you lose yourself in the murky, dense layers of sound, you can’t help but feel small and insignificant. “Sky Blue” comes as a bit of a reprieve after the darker moods of the previous tracks, though “reprieve” might be pushing it. The tone is lighter – more open – but still drenched in a kind of somber, meditative calm. It’s like the moment just before dawn, where the sky is just beginning to turn blue, but the weight of night hasn’t quite lifted yet. Gustavo plays with tension here, offering a glimpse of peace but keeping it just out of reach. The album closes with “Reflection”, a track that feels like the sonic equivalent of an emotional sigh. It’s quiet, contemplative, and feels like Denouard is taking stock of everything that came before. There’s a gentle sadness here, as if the wind has finally stopped blowing, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. And maybe that’s the point – after all the sound and motion, all that’s left is you, alone with your thoughts, staring into the endless expanse of whatever Gustavo wants you to call home. If you’re looking for hooks, melodies, or any semblance of traditional song structure, Mysterious Wind will leave you out in the cold. But if you’re ready to confront the vastness of sound – and maybe yourself – then Gustavo Denouard has created something that’ll resonate deeply. The album’s emotional and sonic palette recalls the likes of Tim Hecker, Loscil, and even Harold Budd, but with its own distinctly personal undercurrent. Denouard’s music asks you to sit with it – to take in its hypnotic drones not as background music, but as a mirror for your own inner landscape. And while that may sound daunting, it’s also what makes Mysterious Wind so compelling. It’s a reminder that sometimes the wind – like life – blows hardest when you’re trying to listen. -Vito Camarretta