Right before his passing, Japanese legend Ryuichi Sakamoto shared a playlist for his own funeral, entitled “funeral.” It touched on many of his lifelong favorites: Bach, Toru Takemitsu, Debussy, Bill Evans, then concluded with Laurel Halo’s “Breath.” If you’ve followed Halo’s career, you know that each release boasts a natural yet unexpected chameleonic shift: techno, vaporwave, warped vocal pop, but her 2020 score for Possessed (where “Breath” appeared) found her moving towards the liminal space between ambient and modern classical. Her first studio full-length since 2017’s Dust, Atlas sends us further into rain-on-the-lens abstraction to sublime effect. Some moments conjure the melancholic grandeur of Stars of the Lid, but clarity, defined edges, and clear resolution are anathema to Halo’s process here. Every composition bleeds like a watercolor (or a university music wing, with different ensembles mixing in the hallway). Some moments bring to mind Gavin Bryars’ The Sinking of the Titanic, especially those moments when something eloquent gets submerged in noise and salt water. Noteworthy collaborators like cellist Lucy Railton and saxophonist Bendik Giske melt into Halo’s own piano, voice, electronics, and whatever else she lays her hands on, but they echo and resonate as if from a storm drain. An evocative soundtrack for rainy days or passing into the beyond.