Preeminent avant-R&B mutator Klein spirals into free jazz gospel synth mode on a 93 minute magnum opus - proper AOTY level material - gelling tripped out synths and a haul of personal recordings in a breathtaking elevation of an already unique sound - masterful work for fans of Actress, Laurel Halo, Elysia Crampton/E+E, Mica Levi, Leyland Kirby, Dubplate Drama and the early era of Pixar x disney collabs.
Once again leaving everyone for dust, Klein sends us reeling in space with (by our count) a 7th solo album, titled after a Christian TV series she used to watch with her mum, and imparting uncanniest sensations across its considerable, feature length breadth that perhaps more than ever betrays her roots in gospel music and theatre.
Klein’s music, especially here, can be heard to retain vestiges of transcendent gospel expression in the most fascinating ways; tempering, abstracting and modernising the soul quotient of gospel and the ‘B’ in R&B with extraordinary, slow burn effect, all the more noticeable for its absence elsewhere.
This is music that simply reaches parts of the soul many others don’t come close to. We’re not going to get into the semantics of soul, but you know what we’re on about. That stuff that makes your skin prickle and eyes roll to the back of yr neck. It’s a form of music that dwells and revels in the elusive poetry behind the prosaic of the everyday and stands in stark contrast to the messages and mediums of clouty commerciality and pure numbers-driven bullshit.
Unlike so much other stuff vaguely in this realm, Klein proceeds with uncloying, preternatural effortlessness that disarms and suspends disbelief quite unlike anything else. From start to finish there’s sustained levels of sensuality and pathos - no small feat in light of its 93 min wingspan - riddled with unusual but understandable juxtapositions, and where the track titles become as important to the narrative as the abstract music, transcending the sum of its parts to become something quite ineffable.
Ultimately it’s all just air moving weirdly, but the effect is astonishing. Aye, we’re properly dancing to architecture here, but if you’ve sat on the fence with Klein’s work up to now, we implore you to make some time for this one, and thank her later.
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Preeminent avant-R&B mutator Klein spirals into free jazz gospel synth mode on a 93 minute magnum opus - proper AOTY level material - gelling tripped out synths and a haul of personal recordings in a breathtaking elevation of an already unique sound - masterful work for fans of Actress, Laurel Halo, Elysia Crampton/E+E, Mica Levi, Leyland Kirby, Dubplate Drama and the early era of Pixar x disney collabs.
Once again leaving everyone for dust, Klein sends us reeling in space with (by our count) a 7th solo album, titled after a Christian TV series she used to watch with her mum, and imparting uncanniest sensations across its considerable, feature length breadth that perhaps more than ever betrays her roots in gospel music and theatre.
Klein’s music, especially here, can be heard to retain vestiges of transcendent gospel expression in the most fascinating ways; tempering, abstracting and modernising the soul quotient of gospel and the ‘B’ in R&B with extraordinary, slow burn effect, all the more noticeable for its absence elsewhere.
This is music that simply reaches parts of the soul many others don’t come close to. We’re not going to get into the semantics of soul, but you know what we’re on about. That stuff that makes your skin prickle and eyes roll to the back of yr neck. It’s a form of music that dwells and revels in the elusive poetry behind the prosaic of the everyday and stands in stark contrast to the messages and mediums of clouty commerciality and pure numbers-driven bullshit.
Unlike so much other stuff vaguely in this realm, Klein proceeds with uncloying, preternatural effortlessness that disarms and suspends disbelief quite unlike anything else. From start to finish there’s sustained levels of sensuality and pathos - no small feat in light of its 93 min wingspan - riddled with unusual but understandable juxtapositions, and where the track titles become as important to the narrative as the abstract music, transcending the sum of its parts to become something quite ineffable.
Ultimately it’s all just air moving weirdly, but the effect is astonishing. Aye, we’re properly dancing to architecture here, but if you’ve sat on the fence with Klein’s work up to now, we implore you to make some time for this one, and thank her later.
Preeminent avant-R&B mutator Klein spirals into free jazz gospel synth mode on a 93 minute magnum opus - proper AOTY level material - gelling tripped out synths and a haul of personal recordings in a breathtaking elevation of an already unique sound - masterful work for fans of Actress, Laurel Halo, Elysia Crampton/E+E, Mica Levi, Leyland Kirby, Dubplate Drama and the early era of Pixar x disney collabs.
Once again leaving everyone for dust, Klein sends us reeling in space with (by our count) a 7th solo album, titled after a Christian TV series she used to watch with her mum, and imparting uncanniest sensations across its considerable, feature length breadth that perhaps more than ever betrays her roots in gospel music and theatre.
Klein’s music, especially here, can be heard to retain vestiges of transcendent gospel expression in the most fascinating ways; tempering, abstracting and modernising the soul quotient of gospel and the ‘B’ in R&B with extraordinary, slow burn effect, all the more noticeable for its absence elsewhere.
This is music that simply reaches parts of the soul many others don’t come close to. We’re not going to get into the semantics of soul, but you know what we’re on about. That stuff that makes your skin prickle and eyes roll to the back of yr neck. It’s a form of music that dwells and revels in the elusive poetry behind the prosaic of the everyday and stands in stark contrast to the messages and mediums of clouty commerciality and pure numbers-driven bullshit.
Unlike so much other stuff vaguely in this realm, Klein proceeds with uncloying, preternatural effortlessness that disarms and suspends disbelief quite unlike anything else. From start to finish there’s sustained levels of sensuality and pathos - no small feat in light of its 93 min wingspan - riddled with unusual but understandable juxtapositions, and where the track titles become as important to the narrative as the abstract music, transcending the sum of its parts to become something quite ineffable.
Ultimately it’s all just air moving weirdly, but the effect is astonishing. Aye, we’re properly dancing to architecture here, but if you’ve sat on the fence with Klein’s work up to now, we implore you to make some time for this one, and thank her later.
Preeminent avant-R&B mutator Klein spirals into free jazz gospel synth mode on a 93 minute magnum opus - proper AOTY level material - gelling tripped out synths and a haul of personal recordings in a breathtaking elevation of an already unique sound - masterful work for fans of Actress, Laurel Halo, Elysia Crampton/E+E, Mica Levi, Leyland Kirby, Dubplate Drama and the early era of Pixar x disney collabs.
Once again leaving everyone for dust, Klein sends us reeling in space with (by our count) a 7th solo album, titled after a Christian TV series she used to watch with her mum, and imparting uncanniest sensations across its considerable, feature length breadth that perhaps more than ever betrays her roots in gospel music and theatre.
Klein’s music, especially here, can be heard to retain vestiges of transcendent gospel expression in the most fascinating ways; tempering, abstracting and modernising the soul quotient of gospel and the ‘B’ in R&B with extraordinary, slow burn effect, all the more noticeable for its absence elsewhere.
This is music that simply reaches parts of the soul many others don’t come close to. We’re not going to get into the semantics of soul, but you know what we’re on about. That stuff that makes your skin prickle and eyes roll to the back of yr neck. It’s a form of music that dwells and revels in the elusive poetry behind the prosaic of the everyday and stands in stark contrast to the messages and mediums of clouty commerciality and pure numbers-driven bullshit.
Unlike so much other stuff vaguely in this realm, Klein proceeds with uncloying, preternatural effortlessness that disarms and suspends disbelief quite unlike anything else. From start to finish there’s sustained levels of sensuality and pathos - no small feat in light of its 93 min wingspan - riddled with unusual but understandable juxtapositions, and where the track titles become as important to the narrative as the abstract music, transcending the sum of its parts to become something quite ineffable.
Ultimately it’s all just air moving weirdly, but the effect is astonishing. Aye, we’re properly dancing to architecture here, but if you’ve sat on the fence with Klein’s work up to now, we implore you to make some time for this one, and thank her later.
Limited clamshell tape edition of 150 copies, including a download of the album dropped to your account. Cover and inlay artwork by Klein.
Out of Stock
Preeminent avant-R&B mutator Klein spirals into free jazz gospel synth mode on a 93 minute magnum opus - proper AOTY level material - gelling tripped out synths and a haul of personal recordings in a breathtaking elevation of an already unique sound - masterful work for fans of Actress, Laurel Halo, Elysia Crampton/E+E, Mica Levi, Leyland Kirby, Dubplate Drama and the early era of Pixar x disney collabs.
Once again leaving everyone for dust, Klein sends us reeling in space with (by our count) a 7th solo album, titled after a Christian TV series she used to watch with her mum, and imparting uncanniest sensations across its considerable, feature length breadth that perhaps more than ever betrays her roots in gospel music and theatre.
Klein’s music, especially here, can be heard to retain vestiges of transcendent gospel expression in the most fascinating ways; tempering, abstracting and modernising the soul quotient of gospel and the ‘B’ in R&B with extraordinary, slow burn effect, all the more noticeable for its absence elsewhere.
This is music that simply reaches parts of the soul many others don’t come close to. We’re not going to get into the semantics of soul, but you know what we’re on about. That stuff that makes your skin prickle and eyes roll to the back of yr neck. It’s a form of music that dwells and revels in the elusive poetry behind the prosaic of the everyday and stands in stark contrast to the messages and mediums of clouty commerciality and pure numbers-driven bullshit.
Unlike so much other stuff vaguely in this realm, Klein proceeds with uncloying, preternatural effortlessness that disarms and suspends disbelief quite unlike anything else. From start to finish there’s sustained levels of sensuality and pathos - no small feat in light of its 93 min wingspan - riddled with unusual but understandable juxtapositions, and where the track titles become as important to the narrative as the abstract music, transcending the sum of its parts to become something quite ineffable.
Ultimately it’s all just air moving weirdly, but the effect is astonishing. Aye, we’re properly dancing to architecture here, but if you’ve sat on the fence with Klein’s work up to now, we implore you to make some time for this one, and thank her later.