Two years after Red Tide Opal In The Loose End Womb, UK chamber-psych auteur Oliver Wilde is back with another set of gauzy, intricately conceived lo-fi audio suites. The new Long Hold Star, An Infinite Abduction is billed as a “long form EP,” but at seven sprawling compositions plus one bonus track, it’s operating at a full-length size and scope, with a sonic palette that ranges from Deerhunter to Elbow to Sparklehorse to Alex G.

Wilde built these tracks away from his usual bedroom isolation, working in various studios while attempting to jam seemingly endless ideas into the mix. In the midst of it all, he was diagnosed with Cardiac Sarcoidosis, a rare virus that scarred his heart and interrupted work on the album with various hospital trips. He emerged from the intense experience with abundant languid musical works to show for his trouble, and now they’re here in your browser ready to spill out into the world. Let them trickle into your eardrums below.

Wilde shared a eulogy of sorts for the EP:

Seven white horses on a red hill, broken mouth of broken teeth, “long-hold-star” replies the display, here’t comes,

I let it in, an infinite abduction, a shipwreck of blood. Short answers to my own heavy collection of sideline stumble blocks.

Echolalia, the soft response to clean compartment ‘section-by’ sound columns tied to hard ones.

Without veins of repetition, beautiful strings come miles to remind my agoraphobic open space to appease, and the band begins to play.

Torsonic circulation aid pop for suicide disco relief, unsolved mysteries featuring EBU, Tara Clerkin, Silver Waves and MXLX the hacked singers. ‘Blitch Scratch’ is the sound the cardiac monitors play as I make bestest friends with ICD, the horse kick altruist.

Fade, celebrates the thirty year red moon rising from the last mound where the witches burned, time told panoramic as the last spark died.

The worst rebirth reserved and cheated out of. Bifida, the self-aware space between knowns, where precious unknown treasure settle, wished it colourless and blank but you are, always there.

Look After Your Machine, a burst vessel and the crowd staggers, guess everyone was entitled to happyness, for those who throw themselves self-absorbed into my deformed arteries, overthink and sleep on it.

Sad Sack is for gaslighting the hysterical feminine, unwritten pages of history and tragic heart collision bought into then sold off.

Not my struggle, or personal privilege. Rhain’s operatic whine spills into this man’s broken heart to prove my position. “Sit down and listen to your father”, a song can wash away most things, but never everything.

‘It Was Nice To Have Met You’ is sad to listen to now, the great ironic apology not deserving or needed, the last hurdle of the longest tangent I ever wrote.

Take it as it comes, like a good friend should.

Long Hold Star, An Infinite Abduction is out 5/6 on Howling Owl. Pre-order it here.