This is Talk Less, Say More’s most focussed, emotionally literate and complex work to date, putting personal, honest reflection into an ingenuous and eclectic hypermodern setting. Pushing his distinctive vocal to the front and singing on every track for the first time, the record unblinkingly explores love’s sunlit glories as well as the strange chasms opened when it departs.

The Battle of Borodino updates the neon lights of 80s electropop with wide-eyed Italo synths, fuzzy guitar riffs and vocoders. Up close, Far Away combines deft lyricism and folk warmth with relentless thud of the Berlin techno minimalism, in one moment laying an explosion of shuddering breaks beautifully alongside looping guitars. Smeared impressionistic cello in Sensations Spring meld seamlessly with a Timbaland bassline, halting IDM drums and contemplation of the passing of things. Perhaps a hinge of the album, Roots Alive pushes Vangelis’ synthetic choirs over the snap and throb of a broken house beat, thrusting guitar chops over childhood recollection.

The closeness and beautiful restraint of All Dressed Up Like Love reads like a confessional - “I have been thinking about fear and the way it has of showing up around here/All dressed up like love”. Drawing the album to a close, Life In Cold Blood is a thrilling summation, shimmering bells trilling over a tender dub, a gorgeous conclusion to a gorgeous record. The yearning mantra “We’ll put our hoods up and walk in the rain” is perhaps a look to hope, maybe nothing more than a glance to acceptance, the open conclusion to so many unanswered questions.

For fans of Junior Boys, Subtle, The Knife, Timbaland as well as Leonard Cohen, the anarchist pop spirit of Giorgio Moroder. Minimal techno, pound shop electro.

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Om!‚ This syllable is this whole world.
Mandukya Upanishad

There is geometry in the humming of the strings. There is music in the spacings of the spheres.
Pythagorus

Thus all music - since its thought is upon melody and rhythm - must be the earthly representation of the music there is in the rhythm of the Ideal Realm.
Plotinus

There is a hierarchy of number from the One Himself down through the numeri. All music contains in some way the divine patterning.
Augustine

Two obliquely named tracks, each half an hour long, stretch out like vast oceans. Centred around variations of a single omnipresent and pulsating note, the record rewards patience, attention to detail and your own quietness. It is a breathtakingly gorgeous meditation on distance and time, as well as sound itself. The listener is cast adrift in a gradually evolving organic soundscape of glacial echoes, smeared synthesisers, glittering electronics and distant chimes, while the sound weaves into your environment, becoming truly ambient. Simply put: this is beautiful work.

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It’s about time. And also space. And also loss. Loss that is the result of either of those things.

The End (Has To Start Somewhere) is about hip-hop as the apex of evolution and the profound absurdity of eternal recurrence (maybe). Kicking Logic considers parallel dimensions and ponders the mystery Schrödinger’s cat over a popping g-funk whistle slice up. Time Flies dwells on life’s glorious contingency and the death of snowmen. The Quarterbeats plays the idea of time signatures as being the signatures of time qua time.

Yet it is not all speculative metaphysical hi-jinks. St’s Patrick’s Well features the most sublimely melancholic vocoder chorus since Laurie Anderson’s avant-hit ‘O Superman’. Oh No is a rapped lament for childhood trees and opportunities missed. Things end with a dark turn: Arctic Fox is a beatless midnight stalk, that recalls the collaboration between Kode9 and Space Ape in its sinister ambiguity - “I never knew a moral to keep me warm at night”, spits our anti-hero, while the colossal darkness and icy ambience whips around him.

In short, this simply is brilliant.

Lyrics

Artwork designed by Wayne Pashley.

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