Oh! That was colder than ice; that went through to the heart which consists of half an ice cube. It looked as if he was to die; but it took just a moment for him to get better; he felt nothing more of the cold all around.  (Hans Christian Andersen, Die Schneekönigin)

Anders Ilar is an ol' bastard.  First he seduced us with winter-techno and then he gave us a cure in the form of an ambient pill we had to swallow.   Now he is packing three completely different tracks onto one 12" for at least 23 dance floors.  What's he up to? At least there's DJ fodder for everyone!
    
It is said that freezing to death is peculiarly more pleasant than other fatalities.  As if kissed by the Schneekönigin herself, one sinks into self-loathing with "Hydro" and gets drunk by the hydrostatic depths of the frozen soul-mometer.  White cotton-ball harmonies float, suppressed and held by a short line, to the naturally glossed waves of bass-strings made of elk organs as thick as an arm, which simulate osmotic melodies out and about.  One used to call it Trance but we hate this word because it was terribly overdone.  So we'll take this opportunity to call it Trans:  Transporter-Musik.     

"Moth“ lies down amongst night creases and artfully fakes an insinuated change of direction towards a banger, all in order to finally get caught in the mosquito net of a brain-fuck.  It's a bubbling ambient track with bass emerging from the depths of the Fjord.  Is someone drowning here or what?

Last but not least, Ilar hits the fan with the boomboom of the canal basin near a techno fog-hole.  He lets the watery saliva stream of reality seep on your tongue for 6 minutes until "Mouthdry" warns you, like after a good joint, to seek ice-cold water bottles the size of Nebukadnezar.