The third album from this Tasmanian duo consists of eight tracks that recall the sort of hard-edged, child-oriented, non-Western ambient music that has become so popular on the independent scene in the US over the past two years. The tracks are so named because they are so warm and inviting, and because the music evokes the kind of pastoral feeling that we associate with the region.

As the title suggests, the music is made up of a series of organ-like chirps, murmured voices and drowsy drone bends, and the combined effect is a sort of sort of indigo-drenched, stoned-ness that recalls the sort of music you might hear if you walked through the desert for two days. This is an ideal soundscape for stoner music, as they do in their precision-timed, sombre tendencies.

The first track “Echoes” is at least partly ambient, and also somewhat rock-based, but also pure synthesizer-oriented – essentially a highly processed version of what I hear on the tapes. The synthesizer tones slide and bounce around like miniature percussion, with layered bass and snatches of broken snares, and the whole thing then repeats itself over and over again until you lose track of the line-up.