Tom Moody: One writer compared this to Bitches Brew and Terry Riley and I can hear elements of those but I thought on first hearing of the Cluster & Eno work from the late '70s, with its spacy, melancholy vibe. Instead of their primarily analog synths this features (among other intriguing sounds) a kind of glitchy quasi-bassoon playing random sample-and-hold pitches, sprays of echo-y organ notes spiraling off into infinity, and a pseudo-kalimba sparkling along underneath. Also unlike Cluster's 70s-vintage sequencers, the timing here is all out of kilter, lurching along and barely keeping everything together, even though it remains cohesive and dreamlike for its almost 9 minute running time.

Derek Kwan: Reflecting the swiftness of the virus’s outbreak throughout the world, March of the Covids by St. Celfer moves at a relentless brisk pace and is driven throughout nearly its entire eight minutes and forty-eight seconds by a clicky, sine-tone-like ostinato. Over this insistent rhythmic engine and the repeated, down-pitched sample of a voice intoning “Don’t stop it before I break down. You wouldn’t stop anyway”, St. Celfer deploys a kaleidoscopic assortment of varied electronic textures with associated melodic motives in an free, improvisatory fashion, recalling landmark jazz fusion and minimalist albums of the late 1960s and early 1970s such as Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew and Terry Riley’s A Rainbow in Curved Air. With prominent grooves throughout its duration strongly emphasizing the notes G and D, the tonal center of March of the Covids is firmly established at G. While DTMF (Touch-Tone)-like twirling gestures around notes A and B and singing, rubato meanderings around note groups C-G and G-D-E establish the piece’s major mode, hints of a minor mode darkness with the note B flat appear throughout the beginning and most prominently in repeated swells at the two minute mark.