The work of Eleh had been so linked with limited-edition vinyl aesthetics -- the still-anonymous person or group had released their efforts only via that medium since their start in 1999 -- that the appearance of an actual CD release was almost shocking (especially in 2010, as the format appeared rapidly headed towards an end).
Location Momentum would seem to give Eleh the chance to release even longer compositions as a result, but the five-track album's individual cuts reach 20 minutes at their longest, two at their shortest.
No matter the intent, the emphasis is once again on sine wave experimentation via oscillators and synthesizers, and the result is just as darkly strange.
Yet the fusion of the sound with the Jon Wozencraft photographic style that helps define the Touch label, meaning stepping away from the stark black-and-white design approach of Eleh's vinyl work, results in a new interpretation of that work -- the bleak winter forest landscapes and ghostly white curtains make the feeling of the opening track, "Heleneleh," even more one of approaching malevolence, at once alien and distantly serene in its huge bass-tone heavy impact.
The album's impact is so crushing overall that it's almost hard to listen to -- the concluding number, "Rotational Change for Windmill," provides a bit of calm humor in the title, and in its suggestion of the blades of such a building whizzing past, but it's about the only instance of it.
At its quietest halfway through "Circle One: Summer Transcience," the high-pitched tones sounding like distant buzzing insects still suggest some far-off, indescribable sense of unease.
Even the shortest song, "Linear to Circular/Vertical Axis," feels almost like a respite more than anything else, a strange unknown creature's respiration or heartbeat, waiting to react.