To be completely honest, it's been quite a while since Warp released anything I had any genuine interest in. Nala Sinephro's was pleasant but almost willfully insubstantial, Squid were tentacular but constrained, and let's just get this one out of the way right now: do we need to hear (or buy) another Autechre album?
But is that even really the issue now? You know a label is past relevance when they start churning out cuter, slightly more marketable versions of you, with many more tatts and piercings, and then expect you to pay for them.
The latest entry in Warp's "paint by numbers" series is no doubt a similarly chunky, uneven pastiche of 'genre' (as if those words meant anything anyway), proving once again that you just can't fake naturalism or good taste. The soccer ball on the rear cover pretty much says it all, but fortunately this independently minded musician has long since left the Warp fanboy club.
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