Rob Burger’s keyboards can be heard in everything from showcases at the Guggenheim Museum to the blockbuster Ocean’s 8 to albums by John Zorn, Laurie Anderson, and Iron & Wine, but the moonlit compositions he quietly releases on his own may be his most enthralling work. His latest solo project, Marching With Feathers, pivots away from the exotica and krautrock undercurrents of 2019’s The Grid and towards a genre-agnostic oscillation of electrified apprehensions and spacious piano meditations. Piano-led tracks like “Figurine” and “Still” draw the listener into a realm of tranquil contemplation, while stark psychedelic vignettes like “Library Science” and “Hotel For Saints” imbue the collection with a vital groove, conjuring images of a scorching desert plain. At the core of the album lies a central dichotomy between strength and softness, power and vulnerability. By uniting these seemingly opposed concepts, Rob Burger catches you off-guard, tracing tracks that veer from mirage to harsh reality at every turn. As the album draws to a close, the listener feels as though they are emerging from a dream, pensive yet resolute to ascend, like a lost hiker reaching a vantage point.