Following last year's stark change of direction with Exercises, it was never going to be simple to predict what CFCF's (Michael Silver) next EP might hold. The fact that it would be ambitiously driven by concept, paying no attention whatsoever to the precursors of the music industry, was not so much of a surprise. As it turns out, Silver has continued his journey towards being primarily received as a 'composer' with new release, Music for Objects.

The record is heavily - and notably - influenced by not-so usual suspects Phillip Glass & Ryuichi Sakamoto, with a large dose of the more common Brian Eno thrown in for good measure. Eno's inspiration is splattered all over the title of the EP, and the idea behind the music only serves to take the comparison further.

A soundtrack to the inanimate, little tracks made to anthropomorphise every day objects and give them some sort of audio personality - that's the brief. Now, whilst this is all well and good (I'm an absolute sucker for a good concept/execution marriage) I don't believe this golden nugget of information will necessarily enhance your listening experience. I mean, when listening to a track called 'Glass', looking out of a glass window, you find yourself distracted, wondering which part of the experience with such an object each bit of the track is trying to put across. It's fun, yes, if a little too gimmicky, but I'd say your head will take more time with the music if it weren't ever to know that this was the idea behind it. In fact, you shouldn't have even read about it. In fact, you should rewind a little and skip this paragraph. (I realise now that nobody else on earth - apart from CFCF maybe - would sit staring at glass trying to decode it's personality... carry on).

With all this object stuff out of the way, the point remains that the sounds on this record are meditatively beautiful. Like the transition from Continents to Exercises, the debut drum tracking has been substantially replaced for more key-led structures. Here though, glazed marimbas have been positioned atop soft whirly chords, repeating into swells that are entirely reminiscent of kit-led arrangements. 'Glass' opens with one of these skittering melodies, slowly introducing elements behind a line which develops into the somewhat fragile backbone of the track. It lacks a little in terms of an emotional connection, as the peaks and troughs of the sound are so detached, yet as an introduction to what is yet to come, it's a pretty good taster dish.

'Bowl' feels much more atmospheric, going about the wayfinding of the track in the entirely opposite fashion. When the pitchy piano stabs do arrive, it's already too late to transform, and the tracks slowly give way to the next. The EP continues like this until the mid section, when the soundscapes take on an aesthetic more akin to those of their contemporaries.

'Camera' is glorious, building high chords alongside rays of rich saxophone notes until we finally get the first taste of a tangible beat. It's no UV glowstick seducer by any means, but it's danceable, in a sort of festival comedown sort of way. There are subtle hints of Caribou to be heard here and there, as the synth brings a slightly Balearic feel to proceedings, yet it's modern orchestral maestro Bonobo whose music springs to mind on 'Keys'. Again, there is some sort of beat to be found, and whilst the foundations of the track summon a welcome feeling of hypnosis, the little pockets of screeches and horns keep the track fresh.

It seems like the peak has already been and gone with the next two tracks, focusing more on concentric swells of bells and resonating taps rather than the feeling the final result gives off. I'm not too sure if the rather frantic piano pattern in 'Lamp' makes me think of a microwave more than a light bulb, or even a kettle maybe. The EP closes with the spinal tickler that is 'Ring', an undeniably gorgeous onslaught of everything that is pretty. Little chimes descend into a swarm of glitter before evaporating, an ambiguously low melody soon becoming the main focus. Just before everything gets a little too morose, a climb back into the happier region of the keyboard signals the arrival of those chimes once more. It provides an intensely beautiful headphone experience, especially once you've already been coaxed into the depths of your limbic system with the rest of the music.

That's where the record sits when listening really - quite deep within your head. It's not something that can be appreciated during stop/start listens on the number 37 into town. It has to be sat with, and given time to breathe before it is truly understood. The concept is what it is, yet whether the music was conceived through that idea or not is irrelevant - it stands out just fine without any explanation as to its existence. The bits on the EP that are good are second to none in this field, creating genuine moments of bliss for the listener. If Silver can deliver that on an album sized scale, we're certainly in for a treat.