Unique musical madness.
Time is manic from the start. Amid the drunken gamelan-like chimes of "Ayolas," there are wonky synth stabs, frantically wobbling frequencies, what sounds like a distorted flute riffing out over the mid-section and lots more besides. It's a glorious mess. What makes it work? Speed is key. "Othonoi" kicks off with a skittering riff that sounds like a chopped oboe, and meets with more wildly processed harmonic counterpoints and a bassline. The melody's unrelenting pace and awkward angles is wild and frenzied.
With a little more space in the mix, "West Of Luzon" feels comparatively measured, but it's far from normal. A bloated low-end gallop dominates the mix, with brittle snare rushes and synthetic voices scattered across the track. "Tioga Nicetown" also presents a more balanced spread of sounds, with a wandering 808 sub that anchors rattling, needlepoint percussion and an uneasy pulsing drone. "Suali," an album highlight, is similarly restless, though its glitchy beats and wry vocal licks drift are offset by stretched-out pads that provide a brief sense of calm.
"When I go make sound, I make it crazy, go crazy, make sounds go crazy and make you crazy," is how someone cheerily introduces "Wupatki." It's the closest Georgia come to summing themselves up. The phrase is rhythmically messed up, a little tongue in cheek and lyrically on the nose. As with Georgia's past releases, Time might seem like another jumble of convulsing and disorienting sound. Some will find the music's restless, twitchy nature too grating, and at nearly 80 minutes Time is a lot of musical madness to take in. But Georgia's singular vision makes them special. Time isn't always easy, but it's definitely original, and for that they should be applauded.