There is something wonderfully uplifting and naive about the mittle European B-Movie Pop and Library Music of the 1970's. An imperfect perfection of sound palette and melody, creating and encapsulating a whole world of hypnotic intrigue.This feeling is what comes to mind when listening to the debut album of Californian Scott Gilmore, which is reminiscent (in more modern times) of the pre Moon Safari Air. The playful opening of E70 No.01 leads us on to the Bowie and Eno-esque shimmerings of Europe and the Gainsbourg hazed moments of Flight Through Grey and Subtle Vertigo. The album closes with Walking Underground, a Valley Boy diary of the outsider looking inwards at the bizarrity of everyday life. This is a travelogue of the timeless and gently obscure, a bunch of rarities all in one place, at one time, woven together with an accomplished sense of harmony, counterpoint and vision.