This latest set—spanning nearly an hour across seven tracks—sees Sanders’s modular synthesizer at the fore, sculpting a succession of slowly evolving sound-fields. Pieces such as “Ascending” and “Lethe” unfold with an organic patience, their shapes dissolving in sculpted reverb and nuanced electronic timbres. Where earlier records sometimes twinned cinematic sweep with airy harmonics, 9 is notably more introspective, achieving a delicate equilibrium between shadow and light. The careful pacing and minimalistic structures leave room for each gesture to breathe, allowing listeners to drift between moments of gentle stasis and unresolved tension.
True to its title and numbering, 9 is an open-ended reflection—neither a grand statement nor an inward retreat, but a document of creative endurance. Its design, released on Nobeat Music and distributed through Fonodroom, is matched by Sanders’s habitual restraint, favoring subtle emotional shifts over narrative arcs. The record’s immersive quality invites careful, repeated listening, its richness unfurling with patience. For those attentive to the crepuscular spaces where ambience transforms into event, 9 is a welcome addition to Sanders’s quietly expanding discography—an album as modest as it is resonant, defined by clarity, humility, and the persistent beauty of lingering sound.