** 150 copies lmiited edition ** Thresholds presents Andrew Anderson at the point where documentary listening mutates into full‑blown hallucination. Known for unnerving assemblages that blur the line between carefully phrased foley and raw, free association, the Portland‑based sound collagist and field recordist uses this first vinyl LP to push deeper into the liminal zones his previous work only hinted at. Rather than arranging sounds into tidy narratives, he builds environments in which fragments – distant machinery, indistinct voices, floorboard creaks, outdoor resonance, anonymous hums – behave like thoughts drifting through a half‑waking mind. The result is a record that feels less “composed” in the classical sense than transcribed from an ongoing inner cinema.

The title is no metaphor. Each piece on Thresholds seems to hover at a crossing point: between inside and outside, memory and present tense, recognisable source and abstract texture. Anderson’s background as an accompanist for the Ash Pillar Butoh Troupe is clearly audible here. Like Butoh, these works move slowly, with charged stillness and sudden, unsettling shifts; they treat silence as an active partner and allow minute gestures to carry outsized emotional weight. A single door closing, the snap of a switch, a fragment of wind or traffic noise – all become choreographic cues in a sound‑stage where the listener’s imagination is the primary performer.

Technically, the album is a disquieting amalgam of precise sound art and dream logic. Anderson’s field recordings are captured with an almost forensic clarity, but he places and layers them in ways that refuse documentary comfort. Everyday acoustics are detuned by context: interior sounds appear outdoors, environmental noise is framed like dialogue, small domestic actions bloom into uncanny, reverberant events. Cuts can be abrupt or eerily seamless, stitching one acoustic reality to another so that the listener is never entirely sure which space they occupy. It’s this tension between accuracy of detail and instability of frame that gives Thresholds its charge; you’re always on the verge of recognition, and always a step away from it.

For those who have followed Anderson’s trajectory, the LP reads as a significant expansion. 2022’s Vagrancies (on Elevator Bath) established him as a meticulous navigator of wandering sounds, while collaborations with Thor Harris (Swans, Angels of Light, Water Damage) in the THAA project, and duo releases with Colin Andrew Sheffield on Grisaille and Auf Abwegen, showed how well his sensibility meshes with other strong voices. Thresholds folds those experiences back into a distinctly solo statement, stretching his vocabulary across the longer, physically anchored canvas that vinyl demands. Side lengths allow him to build arcs that start in near‑silence, accumulate layers of implication and then quietly withdraw, leaving only a faint after‑image in the ear.

As his first LP, Thresholds also serves as an ideal entry point into Andrew Anderson’s world. It offers a complete, self‑contained journey through the borderlands he favours: places where haunting images and reverberations are often felt but seldom rendered with this kind of intimacy and control. For listeners drawn to sound works that occupy the space between field recording, musique concrète, hauntology and film sound design, the album provides a rare kind of immersion – one in which every creak, rustle and distant room tone might be just what it seems, or might be the threshold into something altogether stranger.