Lokai’s album Transitions begins with the sounds of creaking and clanging, reminiscent of a house settling into its foundation. And however much this first track, “Roads,” expands into a song filled with both melody and a gentle beat, the ominous feeling present of a dark, empty old house still remains. In a way, this first track is a perfect instantiation of this entire album: as Lokai weave in and out of beautiful melodies and peaceful beats, there is an eerie element to the music always lurking in the background, which keeps the listener intrigued even as the album also incorporates different noise elements to create a cohesive record that is somehow both lush and desolate at the same time.

To call Transitions an experimental album would be a mistake; though certainly not a conventional instrumental album by any stretch of the imagination, band members Florian Kmet and Stefan Németh have created a record that can almost immediately reward the listener (ironically, the first two minutes of the album are probably the most “difficult” moments of the entire piece, yet perfectly set the mood of the album, ultimately easing the listener into a record that never quite resolves itself).

The band, it seems, purposefully created an accessible framework within which to, yes, experiment with different textures, samples, and sounds which ultimately means that the record can be listened to casually, or very carefully, with both experiences engaging the listener. Once the framework is set up in the first few tracks, only then does the band allow itself to remove some of the scaffolding and create music richer in abstractness than in melody.

According to the band’s bio, “Found objects such as the body of an acoustic guitar, a prepared Fender Rhodes, little metal objects, a lonesome snare-drum, and the heating system were used to build rhythmic patterns.” On top of these patterns, the band has gently layered multiple different textures and instrumentations to create not just songs, but moods. At the outset of the album, the careful crafting of each song allows each piece to build slowly upon itself, allowing the listener to become enveloped with the music.

As the album progresses, however, each song seems to build to the next one (as opposed to being stand-alone), allowing for fewer resolutions, yet drawing the listener deeper and deeper into the soundscape the musicians are creating. The last third of the record, especially, becomes less concerned with melody and more so with sounds and natural samples, bringing back that accessible framework only towards the last song, “Roads (Reprise).”

Though the album is a slow wander through sonic landscapes, the listener never feels lost while hearing Lokai build the terrain. The album is perhaps not for everyone, but those that are willing to sit down and listen carefully for 38 minutes will discover an album full of beauty, yet still containing tension and hints of danger. Let’s put it this way: this is the perfect album for you to listen to, under the covers, as it’s cold and rainy outside. Basically, this is the album for Chicago’s next six months.