A glance at what may best be described as the instrument list for BJ Nilsen's new album suggests that The Invisible City may be couched in the sounds of the countryside.  The inclusion of 'bumblebees' on "Phase and Amplitude," 'dead trees leaning against each other' and crows on "Into its Coloured Rays," and simply 'rain' on the title track suggest that Nilsen might be creating a work bathed in aural imagery of a bucolic idyll.  However, this circumstantial evidence is swiftly disproved in the actual listening, and a closer inspection of the track notes is required.  There is 'birdsong' on "Scientia," for example, but it is 'feed-backed and overdriven' through a B&K Frequency Analyser Type 2107.  This is not a rural excursion, and, friends, The Invisible City is no picnic.

Those listeners who luxuriated in the soft, billowy sounds of Nilsen's 2007 work, The Short Nigh,t will be stopped short by the prickly, angular noises from his new opus.  Opening track "Gravity Station" creeps in softly, starting with silence and then gently cranking up the volume and intensity.  This track, along with several others, sees Nilsen utilizing the subhachord, which was invented in East Germany in the 1960s and then lost for decades until its rediscovery ten years ago.  The instrument produces subharmonics and was often used in soundtracks, presumably to produce sounds that caught the audience off-guard, as these are not 'natural' noises - that is, these are sounds that do not occur in nature and can only exist through human input, whether through an engineer's inventiveness or a composer's ingenuity. 

This integration of 'unnatural' sounds, along with the heavily processed field recordings, results in a work that crackles with the static of modern life.  A decent chunk of the planet - and, let's face it, everyone who comes into contact with this album - is reliant on electricity and it is that force which is the focal point of The Invisible City.  The result is something of an uncomfortable experience, as there are moments when the album is harsh and grating - and purposefully so.  Urban life revolves around this hidden force whether it be the underground rail network, traffic lights, or our offices and homes, and electricity is alluded to in several titles, most notably "Meter Reading," a banal but vital part of our lives (providing we don't want to be cut off).

Nilsen's works up to now have often been impressionistic pieces built around nature - Fade To White built from a single flake to a snowstorm, The Short Night utilized the sea and the shipping forecast - but The Invisible City's concept is more urban and less easily defined.  There are moments of squally intensity but also longer tracks which patiently map out their space, such as "Gradient," in which a 'virtual Hammond organ' slowly builds around a loop, and "Virtual Resistance," which settles down over a solitary guitar chord, a circulating viola (courtesy of Hildur Gudnadóttir), and an oscillating wave pattern.  It is these longer pieces that provide the most depth and satisfaction, as Nilsen himself seems happier with operating over extended lengths (for example, the half-hour contributions to the Spire series or the recordings of his live sets).

It is the three minutes of the title track that provides a perfect conclusion to The Invisible City, however, with an 'amplified chair dragged across floor' giving way to a gorgeous tone with what could be slowed-down rainfall providing added depth.  The impurities and angular shapes of the previous tracks are washed away in what is an all too brief piece.  It is almost like a cleansing ritual at the end of an album which, whilst being heavy on the atmosphere and aural scope, is not necessarily something that demands repeated listening.  It might be recommended for headphone listening were it not for the side-effect that makes the listener feel like he has a head full of static electricity by the end (a similar state of affairs to some of Ryoji Ikeda's work).  So, the result is an album that falls short of Nilsen's previous work, and a work that will provide more of a challenge to the listener than one might expect;  nevertheless, there is plenty here to get to grips with even if the listener feels he has gone ten rounds with a Van Der Graaff Generator by the end.

-Jeremy Bye