Let's look at some more "special mentions", that awkward category of album which I profess to love but I still excluded from my Top 25. It's like saying you love your cat, but you eat all the Dreamies yourself. Tasty.
Let's start with Shadow of Fear (Mute), the first album for 26 years from Cabaret Voltaire. This newly solo incarnation had corroded industrial teeth: apparently the H in Richard H Kirk stands for Hardcore. Incidentally, read me raving about Kirk's Virtual State album, although I make it sound much cuter than it is.
This clutch of albums is among notes labelled "thoughtful". I swear I was on meth when I made these lists. I suppose there was something thoughtful in the sound of Req, who made his comeback with Calypso Dark (Seagrave), spinning out deeply beaty trippy sound-soups. Even more introspective was the dub-heavy sound system vibes of Al Wootton's infectious Witness (TRULE). A wonderful listen. "Come!"
Robert Hood has been pumping out the tunes these past few years, and he outdid himself on the metronomic assault that was Mirror Man (Rekids). His muscular minimalism is always produced with thought, but there was an extra frisson of meaning in track titles like Nothing Stops Detroit, Fear Not and Ignite A War. Speaking of minimalism, The Black Dog never seem to stop producing, and it was nice to see them taking a more simplistic approach for their Patreon-produced Fragments (Dust Science). Ambient abstraction with a tonne of heart.
Roy Of The Ravers is usually know for his sprawling acid workouts, so the distinctly non-acid retrospective White Line Sunrise II (Emotional Response) was an atmospheric, reflective, ambient treat – Bounc Erec is the softest of anthems. And if you need even more atmosphere, Clark's Daniel Isn’t Real OST (Deutsche Grammophon) had sotto piano in severe distress alongside apocalyptic strings worthy of its horror film source material.
Is that the end of the special mentions? Nope. Loads more to come. Flipping loads, mate.
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