Those still feeling the fallout from 2016 should head to Max Cooper serving the turkey stark.
The scientific hypotheses may make you wince: the headphone house rhythms, slowly enveloped in walls of sound out of busy click-‘n’- spark electronics, less so.
Metronomic chord changes — sometimes a bit too measured — the sense of being cut off from the world (the clipped house beats enter as means of communication and salvation) and the addition of writhingly spectral vocalist Kathrin deBoer (especially on the intimidating ‘Impermanence’), help the album release itself from sullen, HD-ready elegies.
Words: Matt Oliver
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