mir Baghiri is one of the more prolific ambient artists in the genre. With over twenty-eight solo records and countless collaborations and film scores, one would expect the quantity to win out over the quality. Wrong. Baghiri has avoided monotony by delving into the many facets of the genre, from abstract, noise, minimal, experimental, dark and tribal ambient. His newest solo record, Yalda, fits predominantly into the last category. It is a haunting and pounding concept record based on the eastern desert and a regenerative winter solstice celebration.

His previous solo record was also based on a concept--that of dreams, and the aiding of them by sound. It was appropriately titled Dreamresources. Yalda, like much of Baghiri’s work, is firmly rooted in the modern aesthetic of the reinterpretation of old. Baghiri manipulates the middle-eastern drumming to fit his own schema of experimentation. The record jumps from ambient-laced found sounds (all recorded live in the desert with Baghir’s DAT) to throbbing tribal beats without warning, which keeps the record from becoming simple background noise.

The album opens with the stunning “Daygan.” The sound of crickets (which pervades the entire record) and other live recorded ambiance from the eastern desert is slowly overtaken by the pounding tribal drums. A barking animal enters the mix, barely audible beneath the layers of syncopated drums. Howling voices dot the landscape and the drums increase in intensity. You can picture the barren landscape with the full moon dripping light overhead. The drums slowly fade away and then stop altogether, with only a silent ambiance leading into the second song. With no clear lines drawn between each song, and with the record pushing past the hour long mark, it can get draining around the forty-five minute mark, but the last two tracks (“Hidden Psalm” and “Languages of Animals”) are a sweet reward to the listener for making it through that far.

The list of instruments used in the recording is astonishing in length. They range from didjeridus, rainsticks and “other forgotten objects,” to Tibetan gongs, panjab clay flutes, bendirs and other esoteric eastern instruments. At the bottom of the list are the electronics used: fm and analogue synths, and processors and subliminal nature sound programming. The dichotomy seems strange, but the end result is stunning in its near prefect amalgamation. The electronics used are subtle enough that the prosaic listener may not notice them altogether, and the ambiance is underwhelming enough as to not lose the listener.

The record was released by the Polish label, Vivo, which is appropriate because the label also recently released the new posthumous record by fellow purveyor of eastern rhythm, Muslimgauze. But where Muslimgauze uses his music as an output for political purposes, Baghiri seems less interested in the social and political aspects of the region, but more on the history and landscape, which is evident in the beautiful digipac design and artwork.

Yalda is the best introduction to Baghiri’s work, seamlessly combining the best elements of his wide-ranging genre hopping, all the while holding the attention of the listener with a wide array of sounds and tribal beats that those afraid of straight ambiance will wholeheartedly embrace. It is a record that successfully accomplishes the moods of darkness, rebirth, and beautiful isolation that Baghiri seems to have been aiming for. It is eastern ambient electronica at its best.