Clark: Sus Canine evaluate – comforting weirdness you possibly can’t get anyplace else

Once AI replaces us all, computer systems will evaluate autogenerated albums for you – a floating head in a jar – to learn. When that blessed day comes, there could also be one quiet second when a laptop computer cries to itself because it realises what we misplaced. Not evaluations written by meatbags, however albums like this. Music as a measure of human development, ambition. It’s greater than 20 years since St Albans-raised Chris Clark’s Clarence Park debut, and solely now has the producer made a vocal album. He says it sprang from the age-old query: “What would it not sound like if the Seaside Boys took MDMA and made a rave report?”

Fortunately, Sus Canine avoids answering it – dry-mouthed octogenarians arguing about royalties, more than likely – and as a substitute creates songs you’ll replay as a result of you possibly can’t get their comforting weirdness anyplace else. Clark’s falsetto, paying homage to Caribou’s Dan Snaith or government producer Thom Yorke, is used rigorously as a texture that neither distracts nor dominates, counterbalancing the sometimes abrasive electronics. The title monitor is majestic, and a energetic human intelligence animates Alyosha and Clutch Pearlers, wandering free from construction, deploying sunbursts of synths and metallic percussion, nailing melodies into your primitive mind.

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