BJ Nilsen steams noise. His humidifier drones, piercing microtones, and warehouse din all evaporate into the raw air-leaving one‘s vague memories to recall phantom sounds that never actually existed. Fade to White could soundtrack a bedridden life in a cinder block apartment next to a foundry. Most of Nilsen‘s orchestrations dwell on gestures slight enough for the imagination to fill in the rest. "Dead Reckoning" is an exception, where a lava flow of distortion bleeds into the hymns of machines. This is music as an ether-soaked mask.