The Berlin-based artist finds transcendence in deconstructed club.
Melts Into Love is a dense and dizzy album, though it rarely feels particularly heavy. Disarray is the name of the game. On "Myopia," burned-out drums flail over a choir of oohs and aahs. The bassline on "Crrrash!" seems taken from a techstep track on a skipping CD, an effect that gets even gnarlier on "Declared Denied." "Ffantom Contendt" could induce motion sickness.
This music always feels just out of reach, slipping beyond comprehension just when you think you've got a hold on it. It's also beautiful. Melts Into Love cushions its most disturbing tracks with choral ambient pieces. Tracks like "That There Is None" break up the overload of hectic passages, so the harshness never become tedious. The album offsets every burst of frenzied energy with a pillow of melody.
You might glean from the title that Melts Into Love is about emotion and fluidity. On the LP's best track, "Spent, Wasted And Saved," xin teams up with AYA (formerly LOFT), another master of sonic shapeshifting. What sounds like radio static is quickly sculpted into a microscopic rhythm. As the choir builds in the background, "Spent, Wasted And Saved" morphs into a raucous rave track, and then a white-hot wall of sound. Here, noisy club music isn't just catharsis—it's transcendence.