With the release of Discrete Carbon, Dwight Ashley steps out of the shadows and into the dark Why would a solo recording artist wait 20 years to release his first solo recording? In the case of Dwight Ashley, the answer is that the body of work done by this individual was intended for a private audience: himself. With the release of his ambient solo debut, Discrete Carbon, Ashley opens up the dark recesses of his psyche for public inspection. He is unconcerned with whether that public is large or small, approving or dismissive. He is, however, most definitely interested in that public knowing exactly who and what he is as an artist. Ashley characterizes his work as experimental - and in fact, the release of the album is itself something of an experiment. Remarking on the body of his work over the past two decades, Ashley muses in the liner notes to his album, 'I sometimes questioned whether it truly qualified as music.' Discrete Carbon asks the listener for a verdict - and in so doing, demands a rethinking of exactly what music is, does, and ultimately, means to the listener. With an explorer's passion for the untried, Ashley searches out unorthodox sonic elements, knitting them into remarkable compositions that are alternately lush and stark, intimate and expansive. Ashley's aural landscapes arouse our curiosity; Discrete Carbon engages that curiosity to take us in unexpected directions, luring us into more profound emotional territory with each successive track. Ultimately, Ashley provides us a clue regarding where that territory leads with the title of the album. The sides of ourselves we dare not show or share, at once brilliant and dark, beautiful and horrible, exalted and revolting - these are the spaces into which Ashley's music draws us. Incomplete, we are alone - each of us a discrete entity in a world of discrete entities. With Discrete Carbon, Ashley calls us to confront and complete ourselves; whether we choose to heed or ignore that call is perhaps his ultimate 'experiment.'