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Releases
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STEFFI fabric94 fabric
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REVIEWS
Steffi Doms, like many artists affiliated with Berghain’s inhouse label Ostgut Ton, has made a minor art of remaining low-key. It’s a natural response to the shrill, third-party buzz that has attached itself to the most famous – and misunderstood – club in the world, but you sense it comes more naturally to her than others. In interviews she extolls such unsexy DJ virtues as work ethic and seriousness, while her labels remain vinyl-only affairs with little capitulation to promo. The Power of Anonymity was the title of her second album, but it’s her MO too. Steffi’s decision to use her fabric instalment to deflect attention onto her friends feels perfectly in character, then. Each one of these tracks was commissioned by Steffi according to brief and, from the opening strains of L.U.C.A.’s police scanner radio and processed guitar, we’re in world building territory: evocative pads drift and circulate like planetary atmospheres across the opening stretch until Dexter, one of Steffi’s oldest collaborators, ushers in the metal-on-metal machine funk of 66. Indeed, while Steffi is best-known for channelling Panorama Bar’s deep and classicist house impulses, her fascination with electro and the IDM of Warp and Rephlex has long informed her style – and clearly her brief here. For some listeners, the pivot between the Drexciyan atmospheres of the sublime first half, and the Detroit-inspired electro funk of the second may prove a throwback too far, but boy, does she sell it. The way she used Dolly affiliate Afik Naim’s ascetic, 808 rhythms to raise the curtain on Dexter and Virginia’s ostentatious Off the Beat betrays a sensitivity to cadence and dynamics that only a decade-long residency at Panorama Bar can confer. fabric 94 is a snapshot of Steffi at her most headstrong and idiosyncratic. A decade-plus at the top-tier and she’s still capable of surprising us – in a low-key way, of course.
No Shape is Mike Hadreas’ fourth – and arguably greatest – album as Perfume Genius. It sees the Seattle songwriter explore themes of spirituality, religion and intangible deities, across a mesmeric, drifting soundscape which expands robustly and takes new forms. Album opener Otherside is a good indication of what to expect. A sparse piano is initially the only accompaniment to Hadreas’ hazy, layered vocals, but soon an explosion of shimmering keys unleash beautiful aural chaos. Other tracks are similarly addictive; the trippy, beautifully restrained Die 4 You is a clear standout, whereas Just Like Love is arguably the album’s lightest and most uplifting moment, combining orchestral violins and Hadreas’ stunning higher range to brilliant effect. Sides, the only collaboration (with LA-based artist Weyes Blood), is another highlight – softly swelling across five minutes of sonic bliss. Lyrically, the album explores the musician’s own complicated relationship with religion, as well as the trials of being queer and falling in love against a societal backdrop still stained by inequality and widespread discrimination. “They’ll never break the shape we take,” he sings on lead single Slip Away, “Baby let all them voices slip away”. There's an assured, urgent message of resistance which bleeds into the album and defines it, and just as Hadreas tells you to shine bright, No Shape glows from within.
! Louise Brailey
! Jake Hall
GORILL A Z Humanz Parlaphone / Warner Bros.
Joe Budden's crusade against hip-hop happiness is, to borrow a phrase from Donald Trump’s stunted parlance, fake news. The grizzled reality show personality’s berating of Lil Yachty on his Complex web show served as yet another rusty rocket fired in this decidedly one-sided war, one waged by ageing rap conservatives against the newest of the new school. His targeting of this effervescent youngster backfired enough that the interview amounted to feckless bullying of an unflappable kid. As the seemingly self-ordained ‘King Of The Teens’, Lil Yachty’s easy-going triumph over this pointless attack embodies just why that otherwise dubious title actually suits the 19-year-old. He’s seemingly immune to both the drama and the mumble rap critique. From the literal diversity of the cover art to the broadness of its pop trap experiments, Yachty’s follow-up to 2016’s Lil Boat and Summer Songs 2 mixtapes takes artistic risks without discarding the AutoTuned antics that made him one to watch. Unsurprisingly, there are plenty of bubblegum-scented moments here that remind why sour folks sought to dismiss him. Tracks like FYI and Harley reach back to the fizzy euphoria of those prior releases. Bring It Back takes Yachty directly into the pop zone, its saccharine sweetness approaching toothache levels once the bombastic 80s drum fill emerges. You could perhaps sympathise a little with those who feel trolled by the balladic sway of All You Had To Say, the tropical lightness of Stefflon Don duet Better, or the soppy seduction of Lady In Yellow – where Yachty offers the proposition: “Little miss lady in the yellow, hello/ Would you like to push petals through the meadow, with me?” To a lesser extent, Lex Luger production All Around Me veers less overtly into commercial territory, with a wizened Bone Thugs-esque verse from a supportive YG – “Don’t worry about these niggas, your shit poppin' every party” – and an effortlessly cool one by Bay Area newcomer Kamaiyah. Yet when Yachty chooses to go hard these days, he does well, reeling off spiteful but absurd insults to his haters with malicious energy. The flawless Migos feature Peek A Boo flips that childish title from the jump, with Yachty’s sniper’s scope locked on target. Similar bass-boosted asceticism prevails on XMen, a boom destined to ring out of car stereos well past curfew all summer long. Teenage Emotions is a bold and distinctive artistic statement, but the excessive 21-song tracklist is overwhelming. And with this arguably being one of 2017’s most anticipated releases, there’s too much filler here for it to quite match to the hype. Still, Lil Yachty knows his young adult audience well enough to recognise that they’ll pick and choose from the gluttonous offering that is Teenage Emotions, streaming whichever tracks appeal to their generational preferences and momentary needs.
Humanz finds Gorillaz suspended in a dystopian world. According to album guest Pusha T, Damon Albarn pictured the album as a party for the end of the world – an imagined world where someone like Donald Trump could become president. As the apocalyptic fiction became reality, this album essentially serves to welcome us to doomsday. Moving away from the sexy lethargy of previous Gorillaz work, the band have returned with some fire in their fictional bellies to deliver an album in a state of emergency. In true Gorillaz fashion, Albarn recruited an all-star army of guest artists, including Vince Staples, De La Soul, Jehnny Beth of Savages, dancehall maverick Popcaan and the godly Grace Jones. And just like this past year, Humanz is a chaotic experience – a rollercoaster of booming highs and some pretty awkward lows. Popcaan collab Saturnz Barz is the highlight – murky bass drizzled with eerie synths, bringing to mind the creepy world of Plastic Beach. Charger – the Grace Jones track – on the other hand, aimlessly swirls with fizzy guitars and uninspired mumblings from Albarn, and even Miss Jones’ presence feels redundant, while the hopelessly melancholic Busted and Blue features a dimly lit Albarn pining in dismay over our digital age. But Humanz retains a glimmer of optimism. Mavis Staples and Pusha T unite for Let Me Out, a sorrowful protest to the troubles ahead and one of the album’s best political statements. The message of We Got The Power, however – which recruits Jehnny Beth and Albarn’s former rival Noel Gallagher – clearly means well but comes off like a ham-fisted festival anthem, an attempt to offer some sort of redemption in the tumbling towers of humanity which sadly falls flat. Humanz’ topsy-turvy doomsday bash definitely has its moments, but recent events have told us we’ve already entered dystopia, and no one’s celebrating.
! Gary Suarez
! Aine Devaney
IKONIK A Distractions Hyperdub
PERFUME GENIUS No Shape Matador
Back when the era-defining label Hyperdub was just getting started, there was a combustive core group of artists that included label boss Kode9 (and the late Space Ape), Burial, Zomby and Ikonika. Among some pretty stiff competition, Ikonika’s debut album Contact, Love, Want, Have stood out: a restless and edgy concoction of digi-dubstep motifs, pitched-up techno rhythms, 8-bit aesthetics and an otherworldly energy that helped to define the emerging Hyperdub sound. Fast-forward a few years, and Ikonika’s second album Aerotropolis had smoothed-out a lot of the rough edges, and along with it some of the electrifying promise of her early material. The synths had become smoother, and the rhythms less garish with an overtly retro electro-boogie style replacing the challenging digital dynamics of her debut. Picking up Distractions for the first time, and without the benefit of this backstory, you might struggle to identify any commonalities with Contact, Love, Want, Hate at all. This is not necessarily a bad thing – artists that relentlessly push forward are the most precious we have. But unfortunately Ikonika’s trajectory seems to have arced towards safer territory, to the extent that Distractions verges on frustratingly anodyne at times. It isn’t all bad – Do I Watch It Like A Cricket Match has a spooky nostalgia, Girlfriend has enough swagger to raise the pulse, and the mid-album pairing of Lear and Lossy echo vintage Ikonika. But Noblest (ft Andre Galaxy) comes across like FKA twigs-lite, while a guest spot by Jessy Lanza adds little to a meandering, downtempo track that goes nowhere fast. Frustratingly Distractions isn’t in the same league as the dystopian amalgamations that defined Ikonika's earlier work. ! Adam Corner
LIL YACHT Y Teenage Emotions Motown / Quality Control