Silent Arrows is a secretive work. Forlorn, hypnotic and ethereal, it is blessed with the rare ability to experiment without being pretentious, consisting almost solely of gentle, yet insistent violins playing to random taps of percussion, only occasionally broken up by the wandering, unsure vocals of a woman that sounds almost too hesitant to speak, let alone sing, and in fact the entire album sounds shy and delicate, but not naturally so, more reminiscent of an embittered and scarred, albeit curious, recluse than a bashful child. It is a sonic mystery, intriguing, exotic and impressively roomy and atmospheric for something so basic in construction. SE