Kyle Dawkins is with this album really showing the world that there are no limitations to what good music can be. With almost IDM-like rhythms and harmonies Kyle takes his trusted strings to a whole new level. Some tracks may not be everyones cup of tea, but it doesn't have to be. This is music that you either love or like.

Compared to Dawkins' debut Conasauga, this is a far more explorative and experimental outing for the guitarist, banjoist, composer, and founding member of the Georgia Guitar Quartet; still essentially instrumental, it covers more territory and uses a wider palette of instrumentation, effects and studio treatments. The way these 10 tracks proceed and evolve, this could almost be film soundtrack music; some pieces are intensely introspective and minimalist, while others are more outgoing and rejoiceful- and still others are just plain strange (like "Sticks and Stones," where the sampler seems to be the predominant instrument), but somehow everything works and fits together nicely, and after a few plays it all makes complete sense. There are some occasional effect voices and subtle spoken bits far in the background on a few cuts, but for the most part this is Dawkins' instrumental show; additional instrumentation includes piano, percussion, harmonium, drum box, and numerous unidentified plucked and bowed stringed instruments. Throughout, the melodicism and compositional structures always take the road less travelled, inventive sorties that follow unusual paths that bear little resemblance to any standard musical forms, yet seem to be influenced by elements of rock, folk, classical, and traditional music from around the world. There's plenty to recommend herewithin; an adventure from beginning to end.

In Athens there lurks a coalition that chooses to convey its energies down decidedly noncommercial channels — let us unofficially dub it the Solponticello School, after the label that is home to Kyle Dawkins, Erik Hinds and the Georgia Guitar Quartet, among others. Dawkins’ previous CD Conasauga might as well be the work of an interloper, its exclusively acoustic candor contrasted by the electronics-laden Walls Became The World with its samples, feedback, dollops of reverb and otherworldly pulsations — all merged with a facility on stringed instruments the all-around guitarist is already known for. Save “Sightings,” with input by Erik Hinds, Dawkins is responsible for every sonority, smooth or fractured, subtleties galore. The sparseness of “Prelude,” an atmospheric piano ditty adorned by sampled female voice, is bucked by the fullness of “Everyday (this happens to you)” and its banjo and plucked violin, resonant bass and muted alien-child whispers. “Warpaint” steps up the urgency with tight acoustic strumming; “...and every single one of them went up for air” matches it and adds a tender melody and punctuates the beat. “Sticks and Stones,” in turn, is a deranged collage; pylons of static interrupt the rhythm — the “B” section is a haunting incidental piece driven by a somber piano mantra and a flood warning voice-over. Dawkins ups the quirk factor further yet for “A New Place,” which resembles the score to a Spongebob episode, but the title track returns fire with its tri-pronged attack of banjo, bass and violin. Structure isn’t about to be jettisoned in favor of experimentation just yet. This is deep listening for insomniacs.

As a music reviewer, sometimes a lack of words to describe the music is a problem. Especially when it concerns experimental music. The additional info can be a help, although most of the times it as linguistically vague as can be, and also pure commercial of course. Words as ‘atmospheric’ and ‘emotional’ are not much of a help because they can be very ambiguous. For Kyle Dawkins this info was given: ‘The scope and breath of sound is turned inward, every motive and colour probed relentlessly. Tottery layers of space belie gorgeous melodic considerations within heavy skittering beatwork. This is rainy day sunny night music.’ Okay. Let’s start out with saying ‘Walls became the world’ is an elegant album. The intro breathes the same cinematic quality that most post-rock releases breathe, although this isn’t post-rock at all. A terribly sad but beautiful cinematic piece. That it isn’t post-rock is clear from the second track on. Most tracks are up-tempo, and not so sad as the prelude. ‘Heavy skittering beatwork’? Hmm, skittering is: to move rapidly along a surface, usually with frequent light contacts or changes of direction; skip or glide quickly. Yes, this music is skittering, although the rhythms are created out of dry, dusty beats instead of pounding techno-ones. The banjo is helping as well, idem beautiful fast guitar plucking. The melodies are well defined, and, as well as the rhythms, change direction, which makes the song structures varied and interesting. Most of the times energetic, up-tempo music doesn’t evoke a cinematic feeling, but Dawkins managed to do it, with the banjo and the piano as his companions.