Stephen Wilkinson’s ninth studio album was an excercise in visualisation and dexterity, about seeing fragments of history, people and emotions all held in the fibre of buildings real or imaginary. On it it seemed he wanted us to excorcise apparitions, or call them back into being.
Channelling Susumu Yokota’s brilliant Grinning Cat or the multi-layered atmospheres of Harold Budd’s pioneering The White Arcades, Phantom Brickworks has warmth and tone for all it’s strange detatchment; imagine strolling to the Cafe Del Mar on a cool January evening and you’re halfway there. Of the three tracks which bear the title this is the spaciest, built on a gentle swell around what sounds like a distant, netherworld piano, before releasing into a cascade of euphoric notes which keep the listener on a seemingly never-ending high. Every moment is a beguiling fascination.