Armand Tanzarian is Malaysia’s Derryk Gan. He is now studying in the United States, and since his real name wasn’t particularly catchy, he chose this one (although he briefly considered calling himself Alexander Supertramp). Derryk doesn’t really like the American educational system, but he does admire the new American president and has sampled him for some of his more recent songs (not found here). If you’d like a copy of the CD-R, you can send him $4 or recommend a good beer. He also likes Isis.

While the above might not make for the best E*Harmony advertisement (Derryk is also in the market for a girlfriend, and one assumes he would also trade a CD-R for love), it provides us with hints of his personality. He seems like a likeable lad, one with a good sense of humor, focused on his music, if not on his studies. And amazingly, given such humble beginnings, he’s made an eminently appealing album, one that I’ve been enjoying for the past month without tiring of the sounds found therein.

At first, the album appears to be ambient; the opening track begins with seventeen seconds of near-silence, followed by sedate piano tones and synthesized counter-harmonies. And if it stayed that way, it would be nothing remarkable – another solid but forgettable effort from a young artist. Fortunately, Gan is not content to end there. The changes in tone and instrumentation are so gradual as to be nearly imperceptible, but by the time the track ends ten minutes later, we’ve been treated to a post-rock track, a mellow, smooth-rolling epic – languid, sure-footed, serene. The surprise is that the track is layered in such a way as to suggest a larger cast: the E, the I, the T, and the S. And yet, it’s the work of one man. The recording seems to have been accomplished with eight tracks, although there may be more; and the feedback pedal, instead of covering sparse patches, enhances what’s already there.

The closing track (which is a minute longer) will return to this style, but I hesitate to classify this as a post-rock album, due to the contemplative nature of some of the middle tracks. Most of these feature piano as the melodic center, with commentary from a quiet bank of guitars. These feature a tonal quality that borders on the Midwestern; the songs are content as prairies and hills and demonstrate that restrained ambition can be even more effective than bombast. Far too many instrumental bands try overly hard to impress, and their efforts sound strained; this artist takes his time and does it right.

The album closes with another slowly developing track, with a more active piano and an electric keyboard that sounds like a wooden xylophone. The buildup is longer than one might expect, and again (as on the opening track) we are lulled into believing that we are listening to an entirely different sort of piece. By the time the melodies begin to swirl, we’re way past the halfway point ,and the guitar and drum tsunami only hit at the nine-minute mark. It’s worth the wait, because what has come before has been so accomplished, and the post-rock morass makes for a fine, albeit slightly predictable climax. He’s started well, he’s ended well, and he’s kept the listener engaged in between. There’s not much more one can ask.

It’s not apparent whether Gan was tutored or self-trained. What is apparent is that he has the talent to take a shot at a musical career. This may mean hiring session musicians as a touring band; it may mean finding a more efficient means of disc distribution; and it may mean another name change. But I hope and expect that we will be hearing this name – or a more memorable pseudonym – again.

-Richard Allen