‘On a walk through the crowded streets of Kyoto, or a half-asleep morning, what was it like? Later, what do you remember?’ So writes Will Long in his notes to Sky Limits. The Celer man captures this thought-sensation, between concept and feeling, by interspersing field recordings of routine quotidian activity in Tokyo and Kyoto with billowy ambient drones that tap into affective and cognitive wells. The care Long puts into his compositions is matched only by an astonishing prolificity over a stream of releases on labels like Spekk, Infraction, Dragon’s Eye, and/OAR, Chemical Tapes, and now Baskaru. The airy reflections of the opening “Circle Routes” with its gliding tones and expansive layers recedes to the sound of tea-making against a TV broadcast backdrop before drifting back to reverie mode with “In Plum and Magenta”—elegant, somewhat sparser, still the same meditation-emotion dyad. This interleaving becomes a compositional leitmotif, as audio-documentary interludes—of the commute and of the domestic mundane—cede to luxuriant immersion zones with titles bearing poignantly prosaic-poetic anchorage. It thus stands as a reflection on the slightly dissonant feeling of ‘a contrast and connection between this reality and imagination.’ The middle pieces of the album swell somewhat in intensity–“Tangent Lines” denser with dramatic weight, the following “Equal to Moments of Completion” more grandiloquent, while the final two are gentler–“Wishes to Prolong” wispily floating, “Attempts to Make Time Pass Differently” similarly spectral, ending in liminal space. ‘A reflection on the evanescent nature of memories, dreams, and reality,’ these string-laden daydream-scapes induce a strangely compelling tension–in parts so remote and hermetic, in others so tremulous and intimate, the whole imbued with a sense of arcane seductivity.