Earth date: September 03, 2774

The ship's been trapped in a state of suspended animation for more than 40 years. The captain's been trying to pretend it isn't happening. Everyone still seems anxious to leave, despite the fact that any hope for that happening was lost three days before my birth date when the ship's fuel compartment collapsed.

I was born on this ship, and there's no doubt in my mind I'll die here. Obviously, I'd like to see what's out beyond these walls, but this is also the only place I've ever known. I'm resigned to the limitations of this incredibly advanced, albeit broken technology. This is my planet, and I'm satisfied with it.

Apparently, our location is somewhere within the "atmosphere" of our universe, on the very edge of breaking through to the much- talked- about "other side." But outside the cargo bay windows, there's not much to look at; there are no stars visible from here, just darkness.

We hear noises from outside the ship-- a gentle, ambient wind and the echoes of distant guitars, like whispers of life from a frozen world. We're not sure where it's coming from or why we're hearing it, but it's been there for the last five days. Some people think it may be a sign of life from nearby, and possibly our last chance of being rescued. Personally, I think it's transmissions from the next universe. It's possible we'll never know.

What this man doesn't know is that he's actually been heavily sedated and trapped inside a small refrigerator for two hours. His delusions are the result of that half- dream state that you get right before you wake up in the morning. Also, we've been playing Biosphere's Substrata out here at maximum volume for a good, long time now-- maybe that's what his fantasy stems from.

Indeed, it consists of gentle, ambient winds and the echoes of distant guitars, but it's also layered with beautiful computer sounds, reverb- drenched film samples and the occasional vocals of Geir Jenssen, the mind behind the music.

You might remember Jenssen from his early years with the ambient/ shoegazing outfit Bel Canto. He's come a long way since then, having scored three films and recorded one previous Biosphere record. His sound has also progressed; he's lost the ethereal female vocalist and gone off to discover some uncharted territory in a genre rarely explored since the late 1970s, and I'm not talking about disco.

Substrata is a benchmark for new ambient music. It's sound is the aural equivalent of blinding lights in desolate darkness, like being wrapped in an electric blanket in the dead of winter. It brings to mind imagery of glowing nebulae, moonlight shadows on frozen lakes, and time- lapse photography of northern lights in the arctic.

From start to finish, Jenssen's masterpiece is beautifully intense. The concept never becomes tired-- if anything you'll be putting your disc player in "repeat" mode-- and the songs blend together perfectly while remaining their own individual pieces. It's just what fans of classic ambient have been waiting for.

-Ryan Schreiber