Very few musicians have chased the sonic concept of pure texture with as much steadfastness and fearlessness as Brian Eno. Both as a musician and producer, he is responsible for some of the most gorgeous soundscapes put to tape, practically inventing the idea of ambient music and bringing those lessons into both art punk and more mainstream pop.

But very near the top of list who might give him a run for his money is Kevin Shields, the mastermind behind My Bloody Valentine and an aural savant so consumed by his pursuit of sonic bliss that it borders on pathological (let’s be honest, it’s probably a few steps past that line).

So the mere thought of them joining forces was enough for me to purchase this without hearing a second of it—and of course, it paid off.

Let’s get the criticisms out of the way first. There’s really just one: it’s too short. The combined length of the two tracks barely goes past eighteen minutes, when each of track could maybe go double that without losing steam.

And that’s only because this double single is so freaking good. 

“The Weight of History” opens with a repeated, chantlike vocal line, which operates like a guru guiding the listener on a meditation. Once your consciousness gives way to the material world around you, the voice fades and a thick fog of sci-fi synths and (I can only assume) ambient guitar blooms like incense. The timbres are filtered to the point of granularity, frequencies sweeping from rumbling bass (it shook my desk so hard a box of thank you notes next to the speaker fell off) to glistening highs. When the volume fades, it feels less like the song ends and more like returning to the material plane.

“Only Once Away My Son” is a bit less serene—and wickedly so. A glitching drum machine is the first thing you hear, clanging distantly in the mix for just a second before droning notes wail out, increasing in volume until the levels seem to redline. The ringing notes drift in their pitch, wavering in and out of dissonance with each other. It’s positively menacing at times, calling to mind darker Aphex Twin tracks. I’m also reminded of Shields’ fascination with Drum & Bass and the more inhospitable moments of My Bloody Valentine’s catalog, like the ten-minute feedback section they add to live performances of “You Made Me Realise” or the chaotic noise barrage of “Nothing Is,” though “Only Once…” is hardly discordant as either of those. Rather, it remains droning and zen-like, occasionally winking at that sonic hostility.

Both tracks are roughly nine minutes long, but those lengthy runtimes breeze by. A quick listen might seem like nothing is happening, but there are seismic shifts beneath the sparkling sonic sea like the moving of continents. My biggest hope is that this isn’t the last of their collaborations.