Liberty Ashes is an exercise in not only deliberation but also impulse. Side A and Side B act as inverse of each other, sharing similar three-movement structure. A is the more deliberate, ecstatic piece, its hulking movement arranged for the appearance of the State Street Singers men’s choir, led by Matt Morello. Ferocious wormhole guitars and irascible walls of drums weave in and out of the Latin incantations of the choir, producing a bliss both pineal and cerebral. Side B focuses more on chance–the composition builds around blooming synth pads and wanderlust guitars before dropping into synthetic percussion, processed into oblivion. By the end of the piece, vocals lace the ambient washes of the keys and guitars, again achieving a bliss–this one subliminal. The contrast between the two sides of Liberty Ashes is stark, but the spirit is similar. The music comes fast and easy, both seamless and sawtooth, sacred and profane. It’s a record built toward the end of post-modernity, exploring dichotomies of loud/quiet, space/occupation, light/dark, and free/unfree. Liberty Ashes refers to the remnants of an ideology, that deliberation and impulse together lead to something more sustainable than either on their own.