Boomkat Product Review:
Montreal’s Markus Floats probes ideas of MIDI soul and pop in his 3rd album and debut for Constellation, showing dead smart results calling to mind The Automatics Group’s ‘Gloss’ zinger, a knackered SND or a melting Herbie Hancock.
Hitting right on that sweet-spot between automated and hands-on, Float's 3rd LP follows two self-released albums with a memorable introduction for any newcomers to his sound (hands up over here), which to our ears sits neatly aomewhere between Sandro Perri’s soulful kosmiche as Off World and the sloshing meters of Automatisme’s lathered dubs. However his music feels more bucolic, darewesay young, but not in a naive way, just full of vim and wonder for slippery sensuality and the kind of smudged, keening tones that make our tongues hang out and sends the eyes gyring.
The idea of soulfulness is always going to be subjective, and we’re not expecting Motown heads to slather for this lot, but there’s something classically heartwarming to his chord progressions and his rhythmic sensibilities when they come into play. The opener ‘Forward’ is a strong indictor off what to expect, with micro finger-click punctuating his viscous, stacked chords, before it all keens into something like Robert Aki Aubrey Lowe doing footwork by the track’s end. ‘And’ follows to characterise the other side of his sound, with long woozy notes extruded in mid-air and recalling aspects of that ace Jessica Ekomane LP on Important, and ‘Forward Again’ sounds like he’s taking Theo Burt’s TAG to church, where he shows off the ecclesiastic kosmiche of ‘Moving’, and then ties it all together in the bubbling cosmic soul vectors of ‘Forward Always’ with that burning, deeply charming and fresh sense of soul that really sets this album in its own lane.
More, please. This is fucking ace.