Something a bit different from Mood Hut after Jack J`s House triumphs. “Clouds” might be an ambient cliche, little, fluffy, drifting on & on, but “clouds” is what you get. The sound of running water wakes lids to sunshine. Consciousness rising to bright yellow dream-machine strobes viewed through shuttered lashes. Percussion overheard, distant chatter, and the odd drop of bottom end. Insects and bells singing for dawn and for dusk. Cymbals crashing like waves midst the breakers on BYG Actuel Free-Jazz meditations. Like The Orb to the nth degree having made off with Pharoah Sanders Tibetan bowl.