David Knight was a founding member of Shock Headed Peters, one of the odder post-punk troupes belched up by the UK underground in the '80s. He's also known as the tape-manipulating and axe-wielding accomplice of eccentric pop priestess Danielle Dax. Beyond these associations, Knight adopted the Arkkon alias for pursuits of his solo muse across the more shadowy side of progressive, cinema-for-the-ear soundscaping. Through visions wrought from synth vapors, decocted samples, and instrumental apparitions, ROTUNDA conjures places imagined and moments lost in history.
Ziggurats shrouded in the smoke of sacrificial bonfires rise from the fallow fields of "In Echelon." Timewinds shape the dark dunes of "Pitchblende," beneath which coiled forms writhe in restless slumber. In "Schlemmer," fairies slip through the moonlit lacework knit by bare branches and frolic among forest-floor fungi. A well-traveled visitor's sudden fall from above lights the night sky in "Last Transmission." Knight descends into the briny deep to bear silent witness as tide and time devour craft and crew and settle back in sated contentment. Radical raconteur Lydia Lunch is more vocal when Knight adapts her "Crimes Against Nature," demanding equity for voiceless victims in the album's chilling closer.