9 Airs
Leif Knowles’ music might be all synths, but you’d swear it was recorded outside in the middle of nowhere, with the sounds of rain, birds, and chimes mixed right in. Even some of his electronic touches feel natural—like soft white noise that whispers like tall grass or bass lines that roll in like thunder. This vibe probably traces back to his time at Freerotation, a festival in Wales where DJs play on the grounds of an old manor house surrounded by fields and forest.
Even back when he was more into dance music, Leif’s sound was never purely club-focused. His first album in 2013 included a harp sample from a piece his dad wrote about Dinas Oleu, a scenic spot in Snowdonia. Since then, he’s kept pushing further from typical dance beats. His 2019 album Loom Dream was built on deep, laid-back grooves that feel made for lying down, and Music for Screen Tests, from last year, was one long, meditative piece intended as a soundtrack for Warhol’s Screen Tests. It pairs perfectly with the stillness of those films, hitting this balance of patience and quiet intensity.
9 Airs keeps that chill vibe going but in a looser, more varied way. It’s not tied to any one theme, and it spans everything from detailed IDM to airy ambient sounds. It doesn’t quite fit into either dance music or classic ambient but floats in this middle ground that’s both mellow and exploratory. It’s a record that feels like it’s wandering, in the best way.
There’s a running theme of acoustic sounds in 9 Airs that gives some songs their punch. “Seven Hour Flight to Nowhere” opens with chimes and backward harp plucks that echo like water droplets, while “Hiding in Plain Sight” turns down the intensity of UK techno until it feels soft and weightless. “Low D” kicks off with a flute-like whistle (another nod to his dad’s influence) before shifting into a rhythm that feels like a blend of old-school folk and drum ‘n’ bass.
Then there are the album’s slower, eerie highlights. “Hold Gem Cut” has this haunting hum of voices, like a weird secret passing on the wind, and “Wake Up Now” is a lo-fi piano track where you can hear the creaks of the chair, growing raw and distorted as it builds up. It’s got a rough, Sonic Youth kind of energy.
The rest of the album drifts somewhere between all these extremes. “Every Weather” loops one of its most chill melodies before dropping in a surprise hit of drums, while “Emotional Risk Assessment” has a wandering organ line that’s so smooth it could play on forever. The last track, “Tapping on a Hollow Body,” sounds exactly like that—someone tapping on an acoustic guitar, with soft chords echoing around it. It wraps up quietly, with the scrape of fingers on strings, a car engine, and a fade-out that’s pure ambiance. Leif’s all about creating a sense of place, and even when the music fades, that feeling sticks with you.
LEIF - 9 AIRS
RATING - 8.5/10
FAVORITE TRACKS - ALL
GENRE - Synth, Ambience