Kyle Molleson, a member of London-based art-pop quartet Glad Hand and a close associate of the similarly abstract Adult Jazz, explores a gloriously broken style of dance music with his solo work under the Makeness moniker. His songs generally mix shuffling post-disco drums with acid house-influenced beat programming and synth pulsations, and searing bursts of crunchy guitar distortion wash over the electrified, slightly angular rhythms. On top of all of this, Molleson sings lovelorn lyrics in a smooth falsetto not dissimilar to one of his primary influences, Caribou/Daphni's Dan Snaith. Makeness issued a handful of decent singles/EPs prior to this album, but Loud Patterns clearly feels like a showcase of his most accessible and fully developed material. Vocals are more to the forefront here than on most of his previously issued tracks, but this is still clearly a club-minded album, even with the inclusion of numbers like "Who Am I to Follow Love," a gorgeous slow jam featuring guest chanteuse Nancy Anderson, or the woozy Krautrock hangover "The Bass Rock." Molleson's tracks typically sound loose and spontaneous, with trippy effects flying like sparks and new ideas entering the mix on a frequent basis, but it's clear that a lot of careful thought and controlled experimentation went into the conception of these songs. "14 Drops," previously released as a 12" in 2016, seems to inhabit the spirit of Arthur Russell's post-disco material, with loose, circular rhythms, outer-orbit horns, and a variety of bugged-out effects swirling around the mix. A few moments, such as the over-modulated ending to "Day Old Death" and the noisy piledriver "Motorcycle Idling," work in some more aggressive post-industrial experimentation, sometimes to startling effect. For the most part, the album sounds bright and energetic rather than dark and gloomy, but there's still an undercurrent of sadness to some of the lyrics, such as the heartbroken lament "Gold Star." Even still, this doesn't detract from the ecstatic spirit of the album, which is refreshingly creative and unpredictable.