There’s a darkness in the quiet. There’s a rupture in the shadows. “Looping 150220(2)” has a light quality that belies a deeper sense of portent. The surface, like that of a still pond, bears a certain sheen: diaphanous white noise and a soft drone and, in time, a tremulous glisten. But turn it up, and other elements pierce the lull. There is a shudder, some ominous siren, and what seems like voices, trapped behind a stultifying threshold.