I made the stupid mistake of letting my nephew, who’s getting into more experimental music [finally!], borrow a stack of records to check out, with Mirt’s Hiraeth being one of them. It was stupid because when I got my records back I was informed that I wouldn’t be getting this particular record returned to me. Ah well, who am I to deny the spreading of good music, the relocation of mind-expanding matter? Recorded during a 10-day quarantine, but adamantly stating, “It is not another pandemic album,” Hiraeth’s ten tracks are indeed an interesting listen, bubbling with sounds and swirls, beating pulses, as well as hypnotic and almost-rhythms, with Hiraeth sometimes emerging on the edge of musical decipherability. The thing feels like a precious gem, a never-ending prism to get lost into, dissolving into color, making it that much harder to cede ownership of the LP. Some of the beats are really remarkable, especially on “Pangea.”