UK club music’s deftest yields a killer debut album of screwball pop romance, squirrely garage, slow/fast f*ckery, and patented beatdown slants, one of the year's finest.
Prized for his free metered approach to the UK dance prism, Parris has become a standard bearer for new mutations of UK Bass: a shorthand catch-all description for derivations of house; from garage to D&B, UKF and broken beats that dance in the gaps between styles. Originally emerging from the post-dubstep milieu, he’s carved out a singular corner of the dance with resounding appeal over the best part of a decade since that first 12” on Tempa, more recently teaming with another mutant bod, Call Super, to very loosely explore and experiment with their restless styles on shared label, Can You Feel The Sun.
From initial listens it ain’t hard to tell that ‘Soaked In Indigo Moonlight’ is Parris’ most accomplished and significant piece of work, placing years of raving and production experience at the service of a storytelling long player that lives up to all aspects of his sound and is bound to endure for time to come. It’s bookended and front-loaded with fine vocal content, with the breathy ‘Intro’ and a scalp-tingling ambient closer with James K setting the tone for a lissom contribution by Carmen Villain on the balmy swang of ‘Movements’, and proper on-point, girly vox by Eden Samara in ‘Skaters World’ splitting the difference between Latin Freestyle, UKG and SOPHIE-style hyper-pop.
The rest is purely instrumental though, showcasing Parris' sound-sensitive approach to space and natty syncopation in the buoyant slow/fast stepper ‘Contorted Rubber’, and the crafty paso doble switches of ‘Crimson Kano’, while ‘Sleepless Comfort’ perfectly coaxes eyes to half mast in the dance. But if you’re after outright club bombs, he’s strong on that tip, too, with the delicately rude bruk physics of ‘Poison Pudding.’
One of those rare albums that's dead strong on first listen, and grows from there.