Lei Line Eon is a darker, more restrained sequel; leaving stark gaps where every sound can reverberate and conjure bizarre churns in the listener's stomach.
Iglooghost has succeeded in an enviable task: he has managed to create a signature sound while innovating and progressively adding to that sound, and Lei Line Eon is a fine showcase for this unique artistic vision.
On Lei Line Eon, Iglooghost sonically self-sabotages as much as he creates, and no matter how gorgeous or warped the music gets, it exudes the energy of a kid playing with their action figures within an imaginary backdrop.
This is a more patient and slippery album than some may be used to from IGLOOGHOST, but no less rewarding. Its expansive quality and quiet spirituality show him as not just a great storyteller, but a new kind of myth maker.
The cartoon-ish vocals are still there, but Iglooghost isn’t trying to show off, or impress us, with his skills. Instead, he has created his most inventive, personal, and tender album to date.
At its best, Lei Line Eon's new direction exposes the nuances and beauty of Iglooghost's production, but it's not without its incongruities and growing pains.
This darker world that Malliagh finds himself exploring has less fun to it and doesn’t give me the same psychedelic rush that I am used to from his work. I find it to be disconnected, flowing less well, feeling less natural. Despite this, the continued incredible production work does make him stand out as a musician.