by Ted MillsOn the short-lived moment when Warner Bros. was distributing Opal records, this Harold Budd album probably reached more people than his previous work combined. One can hope so, at least. This album shows Budd at his most stylistically pure: nine pieces that rarely shift from their piano and synth instrumentation, all treated with much echo and coloration. Budd is after beauty, not menace, but with the mystery that follows it. From the pulse of Coyote to the grand thunder and rolling clouds of Balthus Bemused By Color, this is a solid album, one for thinking, studying, or whatever one does when the ambient comes.