Made up of Lowe and the voices in his head, Lichens is an ongoing exercise in epic drone, a symbiotic relationship between post-rock and hippy meditation music, where anchoring theory makes possible a palpable sense of spiritual longing.
There are some moments of earthy, blistering abrasion – like “Bune,” which resembles Neil Young’s work on the Dead Man soundtrack – bobbing unhurriedly in a sea of mixed, wordless vocals and droning guitar/bass feedback.
There are many pleasures for those receptive to them, though anyone who reflexively hates music to which one could perform yoga would be well advised to stay away. For my part, Lichens has dissolved the thick shell of this old stone; I couldn’t scrub the bliss off with a loofah.