Adult.

Anxiety Always

Ersatz Audio

Witness yet another “Next Big Thing” in full effect. What makes electroclash so critic-friendly is that the movement has more than enough self-sufficiency and panache to look and sound great on paper. It’s a generation of producers wielding analog synths and rubbing shoulders with kinky vocalists, reconfiguring rock music’s lost sex appeal under the icy auspices of Eighties new wave—only remade for the 21st century.

The “electro” element in electroclash doesn’t signal a return to the jittery rhythms of “Planet Rock” and its progeny, but rather to Kraftwerk and the cool futurisms of synth-pop. Herein lies the problem; the profound inhumanity of machine music was central to the latter group’s ethos and appeal. With the radio often sounding more deranged and metallic than those early experiments, this late revival really comprises some of the oldest sounding new music around.

There isn’t a drop of irony in Adult.’s harsh productions, at once their greatest and most limiting aspect. The duo’s music stands a notch above the rest of the pack, with a punk slant that adds a much-needed shot of adrenaline and the compositional flair to match. The wonderfully alien “Glue Your Eyelids Together” wields its synths like guitars and “Turn Your Back” whines and squeals like no normal instruments would. They’re headbangers made for robots. “People, You Can Confuse” is brilliantly oppressive, sounding like circuits in cardiac arrest—the album’s delirious peak. Nicola’s deadpan singing is the crux’s of Adult.’s paradox, at once a riveting call to arms and a signifier of times long passed. —Ryan J. Kuo

Altan

The Blue Idol

Virgin/Narada

It’s safe to say that Altan have secured a place in Irish music history, with ten albums in the last twenty years. With its latest, The Blue Idol, the group proves its maturity and shows off the six-member-plus band’s extraordinary unity.

Singer Mairéad Ní Mhaonaigh’s rousing fiddle playing shines on the title track, a welcome set of jigs that break pace from the downtrodden songs that open the album. While Ní Mhaonaigh’s voice enchants, particularly on the Irish language tracks “Cuach mo Lon Dubh Buí” and “An Cailín Deas Óg,” the album’s real strength is its instrumentals. Arguably the group’s backbone, these tunes burst with the energy of live sessions, and their smooth melodic transitions—from fiddle to accordion to flute—speak to the players’ experience. The raucous reels of “The Low Highland” and the fantastic “Gweebara Bridge” infuse The Blue Idol with the toe-tapping beats that Irish music is best known for. Altan could stand to break free from their languid pace by further realizing the strength of these riotous tunes.

Some missteps are evident, such as “The Pretty Young Girl,” which features rather out-of-place vocals by Dolly Parton. The saxophone on “Cuach mo Lon Dubh Buí” oozes uncertainty, and ultimately doesn’t blend with Altan’s usual mix of instruments. While credit is due for Altan’s creativity, the group’s essence still lies in the picking of guitars or bouzoukis and the harmonies of fiddle and cello.

The original air “Sláinte Theilinn” is composed with the melodic inspirations of Donegal, an area of Ireland that influences much of the group’s sound. With this solid composition, Altan rounds out an album that showcases a variety of musical talents, with slow airs and 16th century songs standing quietly between punchy and perfected group tunes. —Neasa Coll

Boomkat

Boomkatalog One