"Moon Palace" is dark in nature with a constant underlying stream of droning rumblings and noises, which are looped and washed out and lend especially the first piece on this cassette a steady feel of velocity. Although the recording itself is not fast by any means and sounds at the beginning rather simplistic, each listen reveals layer upon layer of subtle, "intentional noises", that were inaudible at first.
Combined with crackling field-recordings of lost origins (when I listen to the later half of the "Moon Palace A" I always have to think of floating residue that hits a pier in a harbor somewhere all filmed in black and white, although this is certainly just my imagination), "Moon Palace" creates a tense and unsettling atmosphere, which is amplified through the constant and gradual movements of seemingly unchanging sounds.
But this impression remains on the surface alone. The shape of this record or to put it better, it's overall character, hints at every movement, that there is something burried or enclosed in its depth. Not a more complex sound or another field recording or even a word (because there are remains of somebody talking on "Moon Palace B"), but something that is absent and slightly present at the same time, as if you see something through a veil or a dirty window and can't tell if you are seeing something at all or if your imagination is just running wild. In this, I think, lies the unsettling beauty of "Moon Palace".