Man Of Moon

Where "Dark Sea" is a very personal and introspective record, "Machinism" takes a wider lens approach.

Bainbridge reflects on the social and political discontent in Britain, especially in the wake of Brexit and the pandemic-era. A core of punk rock anti-establishment venom is interpolated with layers of Krautrock, as heavy as studio production will allow, with tones reminiscent of late night music television in the mid-nineties. Album opener "Rise" presents a delightfully acidic aperitif while "Video", "In The Water" and "Reign" double-down on the savagery. It's widescreen and cinematic, to be absorbed at full volume, but it is equally affecting as the headphone-soundtrack to the first person film noir on your phone; that is, it sounds a bit like doomscrolling. This isn't a coincidence. Corruption, disruption and misinformation are the tools of a toxic media that bombards us incessantly through every channel of communication available, keeping us hooked on a cocktail of fear and dopamine while harvesting data.

The album title, "Machinism" was inspired partly by science fiction cinema and partly by psychological theories on the role and impact of so much technology in daily life, and especially the future tendency towards super AI. "For me it encapsulates what is happening right now with technology becoming a more and more dominant force in the world." Bainbridge reflects. To counter all of this weighty darkness "Machinism" offers escape, or at the very least, retreat. Fans will recognise "Run And Hide" as an earlier single, now with a more measured and dynamic production, it takes on an ethereal trip-hop quality. The album pivots on the sombre atmosphere of "The Tide" as it meanders along the border of shoegaze.

At times, the music is so light and spacious, a little hazy and dreamlike, but can turn frenetic in an instant. "You and I" dazzles, a shimmering masterpiece of cymbals, anticipation and melody. And then there's the hypnotic piano of "Machines That Breathe" and slow-builder "The Wild" - a sonic lovechild of Kurt Cobain and Kathryn Joseph. Of the final track, Bainbridge explains: "I wanted the album to have a comedown at the end. A breather, to reflect..." It allows the record to close gently with something akin to optimism and a subtle, moreish aftertaste. Listeners will be sated by this offering, no doubt, but it is a record that reveals more beauty and depth over repeated plays.