The physicality of this album's creation is an integral part of the creation itself. You can feel Stetson straining to produce the fog horn blasts from his sax in nearly every note. The sound crashes down on you like an avalanche. You don't merely listen to this album. I felt like Stetson's comrade in arms, battling a void that threatens to consume every sound he strains to generate.
The experience of the album rewards the effort. The music sounds like battle, but the violence is beautifully heroic. There is an undercurrent of masculine virility that transforms the work into something monumental. The sound expresses a grandeur and expansiveness that evokes a historic struggle. The album leaves you feeling exhausted but elated.