Across the 12 tracks on Donn/Dubh, both artists seek to rekindle this connection but also unsettle themselves and their listeners, embracing and harnessing winds as a point of departure as they explore a plurality of musical lineages, ranging from traditional Gaelic song to dub, drone, and electronica. On the opening track, Morrison begins by asking ‘brown girl do you hear me?’ ('s a ghruagach dhonn, an cluinn thu mi?) — a searching refrain which can be faintly heard over a pulsing bass that sounds a bit like a spectral heartbeat echoing over the pastoral tones of reverb-laden flutes. On ‘Òran Molaidh’, Sood samples and loops a field recording of his Great Uncle Psalm-singing and fiddle playing in 1952, adding heavy industrial beats, searing electric guitars, and abrasive cellos courtesy of Alice Allen — allowing him to play along with an ancestor that died before he was born. The Boards of Canada-esque drones of ‘Tha mi Sgìth’ then skips forward three generations in featuring Sood’s young daughters singing a lullaby along with Morrison, harking back to the artists’ formative experience of hearing lullabies and Gaelic song as children.Other tracks include a dark, distortion-laden reworking of Anna Chaimbeul’s 1786 lament for her lost love, ‘Ailein Duinn’ (Brown Alan) —an ancestor of Morrison’s lost at sea and who left his widow pining to drink her lover’s ‘dark blood’; while on ‘Saltair na Rann’, Sood recites a poem by the gender-fluid writer Fiona MacLeod (also known as William Sharp) from their mystical text The Dominion of Dreams (1895), which also embraces the idea of brown and black winds.