The title of this album, whose listening brought me back to my mind some glitchy electronics spread by labels like PlugResearch or Expanding Records almost 20 yeas ago, suggests guidance, direction, perhaps even a sense of purpose. But let’s not get carried away with expectations. This latest offering from BUILD, released under Audiobulb’s ever-discerning gaze, is as much about disorientation as it is about finding one’s way. New York-based audio and visual artist Damon Zucconi, the brain behind BUILD, presents us with an electronic landscape that feels like a meticulously crafted maze. Whether you find your way through or get lost in the twists and turns might just depend on your tolerance for sonic ambiguity.

The album opens with “Bright”, a track that, despite its name, doesn’t exactly flood you with light. Instead, it offers a flickering glow, like the distant city lights seen through the haze of a long, sleepless night. The track is brief, almost to the point of feeling like an unfinished thought, but that seems to be the point. Zucconi isn’t interested in fully developed ideas; he’s more concerned with fragments, with the subtle tension between motion and stasis. It’s glitchy, yes, but there’s an underlying smoothness — a kind of deliberate precision — that keeps everything from spiraling out of control.

The title track, “Orienting Points”, follows, and it’s here that you start to understand what Zucconi is getting at. The track is anchored by a rhythmic core that pulses steadily, like the heartbeat of some vast, digital organism. Around this core, fragments of sound orbit in unpredictable patterns, creating a sense of movement that’s both chaotic and controlled. It’s a delicate balancing act, and Zucconi pulls it off with a kind of effortless grace. But one can’t help but wonder: where is all this motion leading? Is there a destination, or are we simply wandering through a carefully constructed sonic landscape?

“Three” and “Run” continue the exploration, each track offering a new set of challenges for the listener. “Three” is a bit more playful, with its fragmented rhythms and stuttering beats, while “Run” feels more urgent, more driven. There’s a sense of momentum here, as if the album is picking up speed, but again, the destination remains elusive. Zucconi seems content to keep us moving, to keep us guessing, without ever fully revealing his hand.

By the time you reach “MD S2 8”, the album’s longest track, you’re either fully immersed in Zucconi’s world or you’re ready to check out. Clocking in at nearly eight minutes, the track is a sprawling, hypnotic journey through a landscape of glitchy textures and subtle shifts in tone. It’s here that the album’s themes of motion and stability come into full focus. The track is like a long train ride through a digital cityscape — repetitive, yes, but also strangely captivating. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, but the ride is smooth enough that you don’t mind the uncertainty.

“Train” and “SCE 19” continue the journey, each track adding new layers of complexity to the album’s sound. “Train” is perhaps the album’s most straightforward track, with its steady rhythm and almost melodic undertones, while “SCE 19” is more abstract, more challenging. The latter track feels like an exercise in controlled chaos, with its fragmented rhythms and shifting textures. It’s a challenging listen, but it’s also one of the album’s most rewarding moments — a reminder that Zucconi isn’t interested in easy answers or simple pleasures.

The album closes with “Sotto”, a track that feels like a gentle descent back to reality. The glitchy textures are still there, but they’re softer, more muted, as if the digital cityscape is slowly fading into the distance. It’s a fitting end to an album that has been as much about disorientation as it has been about finding one’s way.

Zucconi’s approach to electronic music is meticulous, almost clinical, but there’s also a sense of playfulness, of curiosity, that keeps the album from feeling too cold or distant. It’s an album that rewards repeat listens, each one revealing new layers of complexity, new points of reference. Zucconi’s music is like a digital map that’s constantly shifting, constantly redrawing itself, leaving the listener to navigate a world that’s both familiar and strange. Whether you find your way through or get hopelessly lost, one thing is certain: "Orienting Points" is an album that will keep you coming back, if only to see what new paths you can discover.