Label: (Disconnected Music) Launched recently at a gig so sweet, that the audience in the pews of London’s Union Chapel demanded an encore. SonVer’s second album sees them take the promise indicated from their critically acclaimed self-titled debut, and truly blossom as a quartet. While the first release saw the husband and wife duo of Joanna Quail ( cello) and Ben McLees (guitar) pen, play and use samples to create their atmospheric soundscapes; their recent expansion to a four piece to include ex-members of Hush The Many ( Heed The Few), Ruban Byrne on guitars and Alistair Richardson on drums, has given them the opportunity, to take ideas and develop them more vividly. Musically, the four-piece delight in playing musical chairs. How many groups do you know where the drummer plays keys? Restrictions do not feature here. ‘Cantadora’ is very much a brooding cello and piano led number, with guitars quietly in support. SonVer essentially are a post-rock outfit, but this is music that runs a gauntlet of feeling that you’d experience in a movie. In fact there are several tracks that are begging for an innovative director to discover and use. Opening track ‘Roads’ evokes the nihilism of a stark war movie, images of desolation and minimalism springs to mind. Cities razed to dust, it sounds forbidding, almost eerie in places. By contrast tracks such as ‘Ebusus’ ebb and flow joyously, Ruban Byrne’s guitar sings sweetly like a nightingale soaring over a canyon at great height in accompaniment to the Joanna Quail’s cello. It’s the stand out track of the album. Majestic and proud, it’s impossible not to find yourself thrilled by the climax.  Who needs words when music can move you like that? Flush your drugs down the pan and listen to this instead! ‘Plus 30 Minus 2’ shimmers brightly like the Aurora Borealis on a clear night, and is reminiscent of the Cocteau Twins at their finest, who historically were the only band to ever refuse Smash Hits magazine permission to print their lyrics. The beauty of post-rock is it allows you to define your own meaning. Go away and dream unfettered to this. Luz del Abyss, roughly translates as ‘light in the abyss’ and for an album that traverses nihilism - to making your heart burst with pure joy, that’s an extremely apt title.