Like the release of Burchett’s I last reviewed (January’s bread, since which he has published six new albums to his Bandcamp) a great deal of coast to coast consists of interplay between inner and outer realms, this time in shorter sketches and miniatures rather than a single longform meditation. But while bread was, in large part, confined to the tabletop as Burchett crafted fragile drones from feedback, synthesis, devices, objects, and other supplies at his disposal—while the sounds of his actual body moving and the silent weight of the surrounding room were somewhat secondary—this new collection of tracks embraces a much less limited and in fact gleefully mobile lens, which captures an endless variety of auditory events both everyday and consciously improvised: sublime crystalline shriek of metal on metal, someone coming home and setting all of their groceries down, Small Cruel Party–esque soundmaking knickknacks twirling on the floor, a heavy garage door closing, barely audible wind chimes clinking in the distance, assorted shuffles and scrapes, earnest electronica warbling from an old tape player. These last few elements all occur in the initial moments of closing track “whistling in the wind,” a piece largely hinged on the unceremonious but excellently executed transition from conversation snippet to euphoric drone—that chord didn’t gradually materialize or fade in, it was left behind by what came before, and slowly decays over the remaining seven-or-so minutes, struggling to sustain itself as more and more imperfections intrude upon its pure beauty. This is a new favorite from Burchett.