Fieldhead's sophomore album, A Correction, is full of wonder and awe. It's a glorious mix of loops, bleeps and hiss. It's harmonious and terrifying in equal parts.

The decaying loops fading in and out around the most subtle yet insistent of melodies to produce a set of vast soundscapes reflective of the Canadian open space which provided a setting for the recording.

After a short clacking, static heavy introduction the title track 'A Correction' begins to build. More soft misting static, little shocks of electricity shooting through it to form the beat, a pulsating chime begins the melody.

It can be distant and sad, this decaying electronica. Feeling like the loneliness and futility sending repeating signals from the last communication outpost on a dying world.

But far from being cold and desolate throughout their is warmth too. 'Neon, Ugly' is melodic drops falling together to soak you in a wave of sounds as 'Stolen' follows on.

Further on there is the uncomfortable metallic keening; the echo of beats of pressure around a cavernous hull as the ocean presses against the space. Further still, a huge mechanical choir - sometimes discordant, disconnected and cold; sometimes an industrial harmony that starts to build a feeling.

The patterns and melody in what would be white noise to some is intriguing. Seemingly odd touches, the yearning violin swirling through the static in 'Fram', are what take this from being just experimental towards really innovative.

Album closer 'Northern Canada' begins with a sonar-esque bleeping beat, echoing and rebounding in the space of the track. This is about as upbeat as A Correction gets.

Fieldhead offer forth an album of ambient electronica, but the ambience more often than not is disturbing. Still, however dark it gets, it is just too fascinating not to warrant a closer inspection.