The way I think of Bastian Void’s Fluorescent Bells has to do with being both extremely relaxed and frigidly cold, if that is even possible. This is what penguins must listen to at the spa, jacuzzis spitting jets of air through lukewarm water or something. Sweet-smelling, chilly vapors softly effervescing from pools of synth. Or, this is yet another trip through the galaxy, synths sprawling out through the cosmos backed by a sultry bossa nova, etc. But you know what? All these descriptors do Bastian Void little justice. What I mean to say is this: Fluorescent Bells is absolutely terrific, one of Field Hymns’ finest dedications to cassette tape yet, which is saying a lot.