Originally released this very week, exactly 10 years ago, HTRK’s ‘Psychic 9-5 Club’ is a 21st century masterpiece, a new blueprint for supremely melancholy, low-lit and atmospheric dreampop that cast a long shadow of influence over so much music we’ve loved over the last decade, now finally reissued via the band’s own private press to mark its auspicious anniversary.
HTRK’s 4th album is their mid-period masterpiece, the first to be fully recorded following the tragic passing of founding guitarist Sean Stewart in 2010. The 8-song suite became something of a watershed moment for the duo, who felt unable to replace Stewart’s signature, fuzzed guitar tone; and instead decided to sketch out a new kind of sound, amplifying Nigel Yang’s tender dub to allow more room for Jonnine to hone and refine her vocal in lamenting whispers and that distinctive drawl. It was an instant classic on its release, a sort of new model for torchlit Trip Hop, and time has only amplified its appeal, continuing to spellbind newcomers through flickers of romantic anguish.
Recorded with Excepter’s Nathan Corbin in New Mexico, then refined and polished in Australia, finally suspended in place by Rashad Becker’s master in Berlin, the album seems to quiver like naked flesh in candlelight, everything stripped back to reveal the duo’s quintessence in a style of dematerialised, spectral songwriting where the barest gestures become magnified but dreamily out-of-reach, flocking around Jonnine’s central presence and pathos.
Most importantly, where so many electronic bands at the time experimented with vocals as a kind of additional layer of abstracted texture, HTRK elevated their brittle, pulsing atmospherics with unforgettable hooks, etching each of these 8 songs deep in the heart, still possessing the power to throw us into earwom-fuelled delirium years later. In the right conditions, the album is little short of immaculate, drawing us right into a flickering neon world on opener ‘Give it Up’, and finding gothic succour in beauty with ‘Blue Sunshine’. They completely ruin us with the cats cradle of delayed 808 and mantric coos in ‘Wet Dream’, while the devastating final couplet of chamber gloom ‘Chinatown’ into ‘The Body You Deserve’ is among the finest sign-offs of that decade.
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Originally released this very week, exactly 10 years ago, HTRK’s ‘Psychic 9-5 Club’ is a 21st century masterpiece, a new blueprint for supremely melancholy, low-lit and atmospheric dreampop that cast a long shadow of influence over so much music we’ve loved over the last decade, now finally reissued via the band’s own private press to mark its auspicious anniversary.
HTRK’s 4th album is their mid-period masterpiece, the first to be fully recorded following the tragic passing of founding guitarist Sean Stewart in 2010. The 8-song suite became something of a watershed moment for the duo, who felt unable to replace Stewart’s signature, fuzzed guitar tone; and instead decided to sketch out a new kind of sound, amplifying Nigel Yang’s tender dub to allow more room for Jonnine to hone and refine her vocal in lamenting whispers and that distinctive drawl. It was an instant classic on its release, a sort of new model for torchlit Trip Hop, and time has only amplified its appeal, continuing to spellbind newcomers through flickers of romantic anguish.
Recorded with Excepter’s Nathan Corbin in New Mexico, then refined and polished in Australia, finally suspended in place by Rashad Becker’s master in Berlin, the album seems to quiver like naked flesh in candlelight, everything stripped back to reveal the duo’s quintessence in a style of dematerialised, spectral songwriting where the barest gestures become magnified but dreamily out-of-reach, flocking around Jonnine’s central presence and pathos.
Most importantly, where so many electronic bands at the time experimented with vocals as a kind of additional layer of abstracted texture, HTRK elevated their brittle, pulsing atmospherics with unforgettable hooks, etching each of these 8 songs deep in the heart, still possessing the power to throw us into earwom-fuelled delirium years later. In the right conditions, the album is little short of immaculate, drawing us right into a flickering neon world on opener ‘Give it Up’, and finding gothic succour in beauty with ‘Blue Sunshine’. They completely ruin us with the cats cradle of delayed 808 and mantric coos in ‘Wet Dream’, while the devastating final couplet of chamber gloom ‘Chinatown’ into ‘The Body You Deserve’ is among the finest sign-offs of that decade.
Originally released this very week, exactly 10 years ago, HTRK’s ‘Psychic 9-5 Club’ is a 21st century masterpiece, a new blueprint for supremely melancholy, low-lit and atmospheric dreampop that cast a long shadow of influence over so much music we’ve loved over the last decade, now finally reissued via the band’s own private press to mark its auspicious anniversary.
HTRK’s 4th album is their mid-period masterpiece, the first to be fully recorded following the tragic passing of founding guitarist Sean Stewart in 2010. The 8-song suite became something of a watershed moment for the duo, who felt unable to replace Stewart’s signature, fuzzed guitar tone; and instead decided to sketch out a new kind of sound, amplifying Nigel Yang’s tender dub to allow more room for Jonnine to hone and refine her vocal in lamenting whispers and that distinctive drawl. It was an instant classic on its release, a sort of new model for torchlit Trip Hop, and time has only amplified its appeal, continuing to spellbind newcomers through flickers of romantic anguish.
Recorded with Excepter’s Nathan Corbin in New Mexico, then refined and polished in Australia, finally suspended in place by Rashad Becker’s master in Berlin, the album seems to quiver like naked flesh in candlelight, everything stripped back to reveal the duo’s quintessence in a style of dematerialised, spectral songwriting where the barest gestures become magnified but dreamily out-of-reach, flocking around Jonnine’s central presence and pathos.
Most importantly, where so many electronic bands at the time experimented with vocals as a kind of additional layer of abstracted texture, HTRK elevated their brittle, pulsing atmospherics with unforgettable hooks, etching each of these 8 songs deep in the heart, still possessing the power to throw us into earwom-fuelled delirium years later. In the right conditions, the album is little short of immaculate, drawing us right into a flickering neon world on opener ‘Give it Up’, and finding gothic succour in beauty with ‘Blue Sunshine’. They completely ruin us with the cats cradle of delayed 808 and mantric coos in ‘Wet Dream’, while the devastating final couplet of chamber gloom ‘Chinatown’ into ‘The Body You Deserve’ is among the finest sign-offs of that decade.
Originally released this very week, exactly 10 years ago, HTRK’s ‘Psychic 9-5 Club’ is a 21st century masterpiece, a new blueprint for supremely melancholy, low-lit and atmospheric dreampop that cast a long shadow of influence over so much music we’ve loved over the last decade, now finally reissued via the band’s own private press to mark its auspicious anniversary.
HTRK’s 4th album is their mid-period masterpiece, the first to be fully recorded following the tragic passing of founding guitarist Sean Stewart in 2010. The 8-song suite became something of a watershed moment for the duo, who felt unable to replace Stewart’s signature, fuzzed guitar tone; and instead decided to sketch out a new kind of sound, amplifying Nigel Yang’s tender dub to allow more room for Jonnine to hone and refine her vocal in lamenting whispers and that distinctive drawl. It was an instant classic on its release, a sort of new model for torchlit Trip Hop, and time has only amplified its appeal, continuing to spellbind newcomers through flickers of romantic anguish.
Recorded with Excepter’s Nathan Corbin in New Mexico, then refined and polished in Australia, finally suspended in place by Rashad Becker’s master in Berlin, the album seems to quiver like naked flesh in candlelight, everything stripped back to reveal the duo’s quintessence in a style of dematerialised, spectral songwriting where the barest gestures become magnified but dreamily out-of-reach, flocking around Jonnine’s central presence and pathos.
Most importantly, where so many electronic bands at the time experimented with vocals as a kind of additional layer of abstracted texture, HTRK elevated their brittle, pulsing atmospherics with unforgettable hooks, etching each of these 8 songs deep in the heart, still possessing the power to throw us into earwom-fuelled delirium years later. In the right conditions, the album is little short of immaculate, drawing us right into a flickering neon world on opener ‘Give it Up’, and finding gothic succour in beauty with ‘Blue Sunshine’. They completely ruin us with the cats cradle of delayed 808 and mantric coos in ‘Wet Dream’, while the devastating final couplet of chamber gloom ‘Chinatown’ into ‘The Body You Deserve’ is among the finest sign-offs of that decade.
Boomkat Exclusive, edition of 500 copies, newly cut by Rashad Becker and pressed on powder pink vinyl, comes with a lyric sheet insert plus a download of the album dropped to your account.
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Originally released this very week, exactly 10 years ago, HTRK’s ‘Psychic 9-5 Club’ is a 21st century masterpiece, a new blueprint for supremely melancholy, low-lit and atmospheric dreampop that cast a long shadow of influence over so much music we’ve loved over the last decade, now finally reissued via the band’s own private press to mark its auspicious anniversary.
HTRK’s 4th album is their mid-period masterpiece, the first to be fully recorded following the tragic passing of founding guitarist Sean Stewart in 2010. The 8-song suite became something of a watershed moment for the duo, who felt unable to replace Stewart’s signature, fuzzed guitar tone; and instead decided to sketch out a new kind of sound, amplifying Nigel Yang’s tender dub to allow more room for Jonnine to hone and refine her vocal in lamenting whispers and that distinctive drawl. It was an instant classic on its release, a sort of new model for torchlit Trip Hop, and time has only amplified its appeal, continuing to spellbind newcomers through flickers of romantic anguish.
Recorded with Excepter’s Nathan Corbin in New Mexico, then refined and polished in Australia, finally suspended in place by Rashad Becker’s master in Berlin, the album seems to quiver like naked flesh in candlelight, everything stripped back to reveal the duo’s quintessence in a style of dematerialised, spectral songwriting where the barest gestures become magnified but dreamily out-of-reach, flocking around Jonnine’s central presence and pathos.
Most importantly, where so many electronic bands at the time experimented with vocals as a kind of additional layer of abstracted texture, HTRK elevated their brittle, pulsing atmospherics with unforgettable hooks, etching each of these 8 songs deep in the heart, still possessing the power to throw us into earwom-fuelled delirium years later. In the right conditions, the album is little short of immaculate, drawing us right into a flickering neon world on opener ‘Give it Up’, and finding gothic succour in beauty with ‘Blue Sunshine’. They completely ruin us with the cats cradle of delayed 808 and mantric coos in ‘Wet Dream’, while the devastating final couplet of chamber gloom ‘Chinatown’ into ‘The Body You Deserve’ is among the finest sign-offs of that decade.