"The Divine" marks the second phase in the trilogy proposed by John Twells aka Xela. Crawling out of a castle dungeon in pursuit of its predecessor, "The Illuminated", this LP finds itself trapped in an abandoned church somewhere in a damp Southern wilderness. Church bells chime and rattle through the record’s first piece, echoing and distorting through a fog of chattering voices and prayers. Tape loops stumble over tape loops and the solemn, ecclesiastical drone slowly decomposes into thick, crackling noise. Through the mists choirs sing, heralding the introduction of the second side of "The Divine" which takes the human voice into cavernous and smudged, yet strangely alluring territories. There is almost a Basinski-like charm to this work as the choirs effortlessly degrade into an unrecognisable mud of harmony and abrasiveness. This is music informed by a religious world; Xela has edged from the scriptures of cults and secret societies to the spires of organisation and power. God is in the detail.
With terrifying originality and thought-provoking beauty, "Everywhere at the end of time" paints the bliss and anguish of memory loss.
—An aural cup of tea brewed with the old leaves of ballroom-records, sweetened with the honey of happy memories, tinged with the bitterness of nostalgia, poisoned with memory loss... I can't seem to stop myself from always coming back for another sip. Arrow Hopper