Well, folks, I've just had to re-type two-thirds of this. Not that you should give a shit. While listening to 'After Tides', my laptop crashed spectacularly to a blue screen of death. The resultant looping cacophony sounded amazing, which is some consolation. This, the self-proclaimed 'dorm room project' of Erik Rodriguez, cssc's fifth release has the theme of a nautical journey. Understated and nonchalant, the overall impression is picturesque, rather than demanding emotional involvement or setting the pulse racing.

'Goodbye and set sail' opens with keyboard immersed in delay and reverb. Stop-start drum patterns impart a stuttering momentum. The mood of anticipation increases with ascending bass and jaunty synth lines. Then the cymbals kick in. Perhaps they are intended to play an integral part in the dynamics of the album, but the constant piercing crashes only serve to dampen the aura built up by the other arrangements. I can't help thinking that the whole record would sound better if they were flattened out a little or just dispensed with completely. The effect is like someone crackling and crunching their way through a family pack of crisps as you watch 2001: A Space Odyssey.

'Adrift' is more abstract and ambiguous, reflecting more uncertain waters for the traveller. What sounds like the beep of a distress signal leads into a beautiful ambient section, the sound of waves washing through the developing soundscape. A more languid beat emerges from the fog, with a pretty piano line on top which is then given a distorted counterpoint. Notwithstanding more cymbals dominating like a sour lemon, the errant child bashing away over the electronics, this track is on a par with Aphex Twin's more chipper ambient moments. The eye of the storm arrives with 'Clouds and Calm', a chance to have a roll-up on deck. Guitars coast along and squawk like gulls; a blissful post-rock cocoon.

'Night Eyes' arrives with electronic scraping and droning plucking. We hear vocals for first time, which are reminiscent of Slint's deadpan narrative. Abruptly, a wall of noise is vented (inevitably punctuated by, you've guessed it: TSH! TSH! TSH! TSH! TSH! TSH! TSH! TSH!) Ah, it was going so well. 'Storm' has some great wailing noises, and does a good job of building tension before subsiding into a reprise of its dominant pattern. It's quite joyful really, not a scary storm; you could happily sit under a canopy and eat some cold beans as you're tossed about like the ocean's toy.

The closing 'SOS' has keyboards chime lazily over a skimming beat. There is no melodrama or fanfare. If 'After Tides' does indeed chart a troubled voyage, this is not the sound of a human perspective on events, rather the contented voice of nature dispassionately taking its course. And in a way it's a nice to hear music that doesn't clamour for your attention or crudely tug at heartstrings. It sort of washes through you, it's almost like meditation. I do, however, think it is easier for (predominantly) instrumental acts to be intellectualised and singled out as 'serious artists' simply because they eschew the traditional rock/pop conversation. I think the main force behind cssc, rather than compositional genius or conceptual flashiness, is a joy in playing with sound. It's no bad thing and this album, though flawed, is rather life-affirming given a tranquil listening environment.