Bosques de mi Mente (Forests of my mind) is an independently produced neo-classical project started in 2007. The artist's first album, Trenes de Juguete (Toy Trains), was his attempt at capturing the melancholy that he felt when he was unable to recall but a few remnants of his childhood, resulting in a delightful pastiche of audio samples, guitar, and piano work. Bosques de mi Mente's newest album echoes the same pseudo-classical aesthetic, however there is a greater emphasis on the lo-fi production of the pieces – hence the album's title. The whirlwind production of the effort took a mere three months to complete, and Lo-Fi endeavors to explore the effect that ambience, sound, and select situations have had on the artist's mind.

"Paseo 1, primavera" builds upon itself, a positively glowing composition. Light guitar and piano spill over an arid layer of samples and gently crescendo with the aid of drums. The second track is minimal in tact, expanding upon the Tiersen-esque piano theme with subtle tempo changes. A conscious hesitation in "Un niño que ya no existe jugando con el viejo piano" completely digresses from the predictability of the previous track, and we see a steady reel of static sampling roll behind a soft piano melody with each of the notes aptly placed to convey a somber mood. Applying a more heavy handed approach to sample work, "Paseo 2, verano (la niña de Hiroshima)" tosses together piece-meal monologues, footsteps, and steady percussive elements. Then "Tormenta de Verano" appropriately starts with a clap of thunder followed with a simple, sweet preamble which beautifully explores the feeling of being sheltered safely away while viewing the magnificent spectacle of a summer storm. In "El amanecer reflejado en tus ojos, Parte 1," piano and sample work bounce off each other before ushering in a lush, harpsichord heavy band that piggy-backs on the initial melody. The melange of these instruments is positively beatific as the song smoothly modulates its glimmering crescendo. However, the instruments seem to tumble in one right the other in the rapidly successive and vibrant "Paseo 3, otoño."  Meanwhile, "El mensaje de las ballenas" takes a surprisingly uncharted turn and strips the song of the pockmark Tiersene-[sque elements systematically recycled on several other tracks; the piece extracts static laden samples and with the droning electronic stuff that could have substantiated some of the other, more lacking tracks – one can only speculate that this tactic may have given legs to many of the other tracks.

After a good many spins, Lo-Fi leaves me with a generally tepid sentiment. True, there are resplendent moments exhibited in many of the tracks, though these sections are usually curtailed abruptly. Unfortunately, the most grating aspect of this album is also the most frequently used - the banal and painfully predictable piano work; nearly identical, simple musical schemas were applied to several songs. I think that the songs are often pressing on the pulse of something truly dynamic and original yet never embracing the melodies tenaciously enough to develop them. Impressive audio sample arrangements carry all of the pieces, though in a handful of tracks I experienced the consistent anticipation followed by a let down. A greater variance of key and rhythm, that would be notable yet not obnoxiously obtrusive, could have given a greater depth to the few more elementary tracks. Bosques de mi Mente has succeeded, however, in responding to his initial musical construct, and though I have my technical qualms, the album presents a beautiful culmination of ambient and classical.

-P.J. Stevenson