Toronto sound and video artist Jesse Matthews has cobbled together an album of hallucinatory flotsam that shifts from floating ambient field scrapings to menace knuckled beats in a bipolar second. Having recorded the base material at dozens of locales, from parties to duck ponds, Matthews then stitches his Frankenstein tracks together with a playful and yet grit gnarled spirit that's equal parts dancefloor bound and bedroom tweaked. The effect is like wandering through a six-month snapshot of consciousness shaken and played back in snatches of strobe light and Super-8. Though Matthews might not be the first to approach this kind of grime saddled hypnogogic thump, at no point during the run of his eponymous album does it feel like we're on completely familiar ground, particularly because the terrain keeps shifting beneath your feet when the rhythms and sequences are in the hands of JFM.
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