Sometime in the not too distant future, when the world is divided into those who believed in the singularity and those who didn't (and were subsequently replaced by something sleek, compliant, and designed in Cupertino, California), we can finally put to rest the endless speculation regarding what machine music will sound like. Until then, we can always tide ourselves over with little platters like this one, from a spry outfit based in Göteborg, Sweden, but fronted by a honey-and-gravel-voiced Japanese woman.
As little rhythmic pitter-patters tickle your cochleae and Numan-esque synths fart in your general direction, you are gently ushered into a soundscape that is vaguely dancy but probably better suited as the soundtrack to sitting on (or in) minimalist furniture while having cold, expensive drinks served to you. The frantic glissando of "Blinking Pigs" and the Sadé-lite (if such a thing is possible) of "Thunder Love" are beguiling, especially in the subtle way that Yukimi Nagato's vocal clicks intersect with the synthetic whirring all about.
And, of course, there are neat textures and chilled-out sounds. But by the end of the record, you have only a few tunes or hooks to serve as a souvenir of the 44-minute journey you've just taken.
