Following five years with a number of EPs created for Hemlock Recordings, London-based producer and instrumentalist
Guy Andrews gives us his debut full-length,
Our Spaces, marking his first release for esteemed independent label Houndstooth.
Andrews' previous recordings, a number of singles, were impressive, somewhat emotionally neutral, straightforward electronic tracks that you could simultaneously dance and drink into the night with, and they could also soundtrack a long walk in the city.
Our Spaces comes across as a different animal altogether. First off, it's the outcome of
Andrews' decision to wipe the slate clean -- abandoning familiar tempos and mixdowns, deleting all of his synth patches and plug-ins; basically eradicating his general comfort zone in music production and starting again, subsequently spending the next two years undergoing a complete musical and creative reinvention. The result is a beautiful, intense, and immersive piece of work that combines melancholy guitar, assorted types of percussion, and some crystal-clear melodies that stand up against brittle distortion and beautiful yet somewhat uncomfortable noise. The record presents a genuine crossfire and broad palette of a number of sounds, both clashing and complementing one another. Opener "Higher Waters" is a track that could be easily described as one of the more sonically aggressive elements of the album, kicking off with organically domineering drum blasts, seething synth fuzz, and electronically charged guitar work before segueing into more tranquil territory with some nice cinematic strings. Next up is "All Our Flaws," a track that encapsulates more of the familiar dance blood previously resident in
Andrews' work. Composed of tribal-esque percussion, the piece is a great example of how
Andrews has cleverly developed the ability to make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck while nodding toward familiar rhythmic traits of dance music. Perhaps one of its outstanding moments is "In Autumn Arms," a good example of the unpredictability contained within the record as well as its affinity for a vast array of genre and sound. Beginning with pummeling drum work and rising, fluttering synths, the mix suddenly falls away into lovely, warm, and lone guitar work and striking post-rock chords before marrying them up with the returning percussive elements. Being rooted in electronica and dance, it ultimately presents itself as an album that's equally as focused on sound design, evoking an entire plethora of emotion throughout. Described by its creator as "emotions-based," one of the effort's most beautiful moments is the penultimate track, "Paganism." There is something quite beautiful bubbling within the layers of this one: somber orchestral sounds and arpeggiated chords masked with cathedral-heavy reverb, buried within burgeoning, fuzzy white noise. It's probably worth noting that the album is pretty much all digitally recorded and was written alongside
Andrews' familiarizing himself with varied synth engines. However, the record doesn't really reflect this decision at all. Rather than offering itself up as a rigidly produced, straightforward electronic effort, it swims for the listener in and out of different realms of sound and influence, culminating in what is truly a sparse, varied, and in-depth feast of an album.