Brent Eyestone is an intriguing figure, having featured in the ranks of bands as varied as grindcore miscreants (and fantastically named) Corn on Macabre and forward-thinking alt-metal troupe Forensics. Elsewhere, he’s the head honcho behind the excellent Magic Bullet Records, which has released works from the likes of This Will Destroy You, Lymbyc System, and Romance of Young Tigers under its banner. Any output from such a musical magpie should be cause for intrigue, but his first full-length under the guise of Aughra is a disappointingly flat affair, devoid of originality or the creative spark that can differentiate an excellent ambient release from an insipid one.

It‘s a pity, as Proof of Dark Matter/Light the Lights begins with the trance inducing “Et In Arcadia Ego”, an exultantly warm piece underpinned by the kind of dark trip hop beats that permeate Massive Attack‘s seminal Mezzanine. It’s a gorgeous and stately introduction, one that’s sadly succeeded by a deluge of increasingly turgid drone pieces.

Much of the release is flaccid and uninspired, reliant on found sounds and field recordings as opposed to any semblance of melody or structure. The ambient tracks are often pale and lifeless dirges, and when Eyestone melds his dark tones to a NIN-aping drumbeat (as in the clattering “The Machinelike Registration of Proximity”) it can often lack focus or depth. Irritatingly, Eyestone occasionally shows a knack for both atmospheric menace and chilled electronica, most notably in the Bjork-esque squall of “And the Decision to Eviscerate”.

“There is Nothing Tender in My Resignation” is a waste of a great song title, a soulless cacophony of static and ominous gurgles and bleeps. Alas, it’s also the album’s longest track, clocking in at an unholy 6 minutes and 44 seconds. Ultimately the album peters out tamely, with three nanosecond-long tracks of silence (pretentious much?) giving way to the record-static lull of “Return To Red Room”. It’s hardly a track to end a collection on, the kind of thing one might encounter in the middle of some god awful Balearic-themed chillout album for people who don’t like music, but like to pretend they do.

All told, Proof of Dark Matter/Light the Lights won’t trouble anyone’s end of year lists, and even the most ardent ambient/electronica fans won’t find much to applaud here. Hidden in the mire are a couple of interesting ideas and even a great tune in the form of the opening number, but the album’s directionless meandering is tiring and scattered. A shame.