An abandoned house, hollow and decrepit. Adjacent to a junkyard littered with forgotten lives. The hollowed out cars and discarded refuse are more of a comforting home than any concrete foundation ever could be. An eerie vibration of sound falls over this grim scene. Dark beats begin to pulsate inside your veins, sending this new found drug straight to your brain. You fall victim to its spell and there is nothing you can do except listen to the music.

Mysterious producer Mizontiq has combined trip hop elements with a deep sorrowful electronic mood to create a ghostly myriad that reveals the monsters under your bed. There is a supernatural emanation, as if Mizontiq has opened a forbidden box allowing certain demons to roam free. By mixing warm and profound synths with sullen drum programming he has shaped a cinematic grandeur, heartwarming and scary awareness of human alienation. You come under a hypnotic enchantment that freezes your emotions and hold you hostage. You want to run and hide but you are forced to hear the sufferings of the world through these songs.

As a whole this album presents sullen theatrics and a bittersweet taste. The songs themselves are hit and miss as some are very jumpy; the beats tend to go haywire and lose their rhythmic hypnosis. They create a momentary lapse in the spell as if for a brief moment you feel the grip of the music letting you go. Its clutches are relentless and mesmerizing, slicing your heart open and releasing some of the pressure. A Room Without Mirrors is a sigh of relief, like a serious operation that you need to survive. The whole time you are lying there helpless, ghastly images flashing before your eyes. Afterwards you are refreshed, reborn. Sometimes in life you need that insurmountable obstacle to overcome, just to see what’s on the other side.