By by Ernie, Paik The Pulse October 20, 2016Pitchfork recently unleashed its “50 Best Ambient Albums of All Time” list, which made this writer alternately nod in agreement, smirk in mild disagreement and shake his head violently at some of the more confounding choices and omissions. “Best of All Time” lists can be awkward; indeed, establishing a canon can be useful for newcomers, and certain widely-heard albums are favored for indisputable impact and influence. Music discovery can be a lonely endeavor, and through codified lists, listeners sometimes find comfort in an objective type of validation, if only for the social aspects.But as individuals, we must take in music fiercely subjectively to be true to ourselves, and to give partial credit to Pitchfork, some of those list selections seem to be severely subjective. This writer brings this up because he cannot stop playing the new album 10 by the aptly named Atlanta-based Duet for Theremin and Lap Steel—Scott Burland on the former, Frank Schultz on the latter—which most often ventures into improvised ambient territory. It’s an absorbing album, impeccably sequenced without a misstep for its hour-long duration; with its two non-fixed-pitch instruments, treated with effects, it’s the perfect fall weather soundtrack, conveying warmth but with a frosty, crystalline purity and ambiguous moods, hovering in a grey space that’s haunted, melancholic and hopeful.Opening with a short burst of static, “Dulcamara” establishes a sequence of reverberating two-note chords with gliding Theremin notes evoking a sort of bowed-string timbre, and extending the mood is “Serpentariae,” with echoing clangs and a secretive fog. “Sanguinaria” brings dissonance right where it needs to be, after the two soothing openers, for disruptive variation, and guest musician Jeff Crompton offers smooth, slightly smoky saxophone and clarinet lines on “Absinthium,” applied like brushstrokes to a neutral canvas. The album closes with the 10-minute “Aether Fortior” with a mysterious haze punctured with the chirps of birds.After ten years of existence—hence, the album’s title—the duet has come up with its best album yet, which astoundingly was mostly recorded in a single weekend; with a celebratory spirit, it’s no accident that the trend of previous monochromatic album covers has been broken, with 10 featuring a colorful painting from artist R. Land and design from Grammy-winner Susan Archie. As a reviewer who encounters hundreds of new releases every year and deems, roughly, 75 percent of them to be unremarkable, mediocre or unlistenable, it always seems like a minor miracle to find beautiful music like this, with which a true connection is made.