he idea of eternal return, an abstruse and ambiguous one to be sure, is indeed the primordial question being constructed by the minimalist bleeps, hisses and hiccups found within this double-album from Greece’s Coti.

In essence, these two albums are different sides of the same creation that face each other in a state of tension that motivates the action of the other in an ongoing project. Compositions are developed around a principle of contradiction, organic and inorganic, sentiment and reflection, melodiousness and the realism of contemporary environmental sounds.

Lido, the first child of said project, is the older, more developed and difficult of the pair. Embodied by sussurating glitches, plangent chimes, and tidal sweeps of digital texture each piece eschews form and exemplifies a detached decay as it snakes and swirls through a fluid progression of dramatic events. Crucially, the loops found in these pieces aren’t merely a source of texture—as well as an otherworldly and emotionally resonant sense of distance, they bring to the music a surprising complexity and an involving degree of rhythmic interplay. On a piece such as “g. respiro” the modus operandi conjures a heady, swirling forward motion. And with this each moment emerges more precious, intimate and personal purely by dint of the spare production.

As a result, there is little to grab onto in these compositions. Each moment stands out in its lightness and is as free as it is insignificant. The proceedings take on space-y hues like a person no longer weighed down; leaving the earth’s atmosphere to float about at his or her own precarious whim. The onset of each piece marks the continual gathering of these skeins of renegade sound and tracks gradually approach the territories of micro-sound. As one reaches “s-p”, whose quiet tones intermittently surface alongside quaking drones and anxious sense of quiet, the density and emptiness of space is palpable. This attractive and expansive tapestry of sound manifests an undeniably paranoiac ambiance that alone is a poised miracle of astringent evolution and an eloquent argument for Coti’s ability.

Yet Lato is perhaps the most rewarding prodigy to be found in this effort. If Lido was one’s becoming light and thereby taking flight of this earth and becoming only half-real, Lato is that which pins one back unto the ground from whence they came. Being a repetition on earlier happenings, each composition becomes imbued with a solid mass; no longer transitory, these selections are guided along a set path. But amid percolating details and scrabbling textures, Lato is bound to greater sentiment and lyricism. “once you were too” harkens back to a nursery-rhythm piano that skips about a child who, while playing with toy blocks, tries to sing itself a lullaby, while “p. strtch”, carrying this effort unto its end, is built upon the kind of restless repetitious cello motif that animates Steve Reich’s “Different Trains”. As to which is preferable, lightness or heaviness, the question remains irreducible. Lido Lato simply provides an ample argument for both in a creation so completely rendered that empathy, pathos and jouissance erupt from every twist in the tale.