Windows Sill is an album of cycles and repetitions. But unlike many works that make use of tape loops and other similar techniques as structural or compositional tools, the beginnings and endings of Klinikum’s hypnotic cells are often seamless and therefore difficult to distinguish and latch onto, making the effect less about rhythm and more about emphasis. Resurfacing like clockwork in the low fidelity murk of these thirteen short tracks are things the artist wants to call attention to, whether it’s the gorgeous synth melody that floats in and out like languid breath on opener “If Some People” or the periodic guitar meanderings and spoken observation that “it’s all, like, things that I played when I was a kid” on the fittingly titled “Memento.” The sonic elements used to construct the various segments of Windows Sill are various, even disparate at times, but the tape is held together with surety via this feeling of bobbing recurrence, and on each track the listener’s attention is called to whatever motif is being phased in and out, rendering the sometimes jarring differences between them—some stitch together shapeless, drifting forms of drones and field recordings while others play with drum machine loops and guitar strikes—largely irrelevant.