| A1 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 2:45 | |
| A2 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 6:43 | |
| A3 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 4:42 | |
| A4 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 2:52 | |
| B1 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 3:54 | |
| B2 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 5:00 | |
| B3 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 1:13 | |
| B4 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 3:45 | |
| B5 | Unknown Artist - | Untitled | 4:30 |
1. listen to the sounds, think about them, and then let them go.
2. listen to the sounds and play a guessing game of who could have made it ("oh, sounds like pimmon, or my cousin Ed, he knows Diskono maybe he did one too!")
Here Diskono produced thoughtful and technical electronic sounds, without fronting them with a "so now" name. This is not throwaway work, despite the lack of brands (however small these electronica brand names may be in the scope of things).
Side b begins with a quiet piano, crickets and filter waves piece, and moves into haunted appliances with jingle bells before finishing with a great drain and drone work of compelling suspense.
Side a opens with repeating electronic chirps, moves into harder bits of well timed cracks and squeals, then a so-so gabba track, and ends on a slower scrape scape of an elevator in the desert.
Klaus Oldanburg at the turntables on a rainy winter night in Stirling? A listening experience with subtle connections, funny cuts, rough mastering but quite riveting in its fullness and light despite its pessimism.