8/10

There’s a fascinating contradiction at the centre of 'Nothing Under Heaven'. Despite its enormous sense of space and atmosphere, the album feels intensely personal throughout. Every drifting texture and delicate electronic fragment carries the weight of lived experience, as though Yulyseus is documenting emotional landscapes rather than physical ones.

Over recent years, the Scottish producer has steadily refined a compositional voice rooted in restraint and emotional clarity. Yet while earlier work often leaned into darker, inward-facing moods, this latest release feels more open-ended and quietly hopeful. It still carries melancholy within its DNA, but there’s light breaking through these songs far more frequently.

The influence of movement and relocation is impossible to ignore. Having lived across Glasgow, Berlin, Mexico City, and Valencia, Yulyseus approaches sound like somebody constantly absorbing unfamiliar environments and translating them into emotional memory. The album often feels suspended between places, never fully settled but never entirely lost either.

The production itself is stunningly detailed without ever becoming showy. Layered drones, processed strings, and environmental recordings drift together with almost painterly precision. Similar to artists like Brian Eno or Fennesz, Yulyseus understands how atmosphere can communicate emotion more effectively than overt melodic gestures ever could.

Tracks such as 'Eolasfalas' and the title piece reveal this approach beautifully. They evolve patiently, allowing mood and texture to gradually reshape the listener’s emotional state over time. And rather than delivering obvious moments of release, the album deals in subtler emotional transformations as it progresses.

At a cultural moment dominated by overstimulation and constant noise, 'Nothing Under Heaven' feels almost radical in its patience. Yulyseus invites us to join him in the stillness, and in doing so, he delivers one of the most emotionally resonant ambient records of recent years.