Everdom

Anders Ilar's Everdom is an excellent continuation of the three-song 12" of dubby microhouse the Swedish producer released on Shitkatapult the previous year, along with a handful of tracks that are just as absorbing as anything from Kompakt's Pop Ambient division. Admittedly, Ilar isn't bringing anything new to the table, but that's easily forgiven due to the sheer strength of each track. From the pensive, noir hues of the opening "Coastline" to the tension-filled isolationist chill of the closing "Everlast," Ilar plays with a series of moods that range from dark to pitch black. These tracks seem to have been made with the desire to soundtrack suspenseful film scenes, whether it's a stroll through a confined, dimly lit alleyway ("Make Believe"), an interlude to turbulent weather ("December Haze"), or a hallucinatory dream sequence ("Remember When"). None of this is suitable for dancing. There is an absence of beat-generated rhythm on all but two of these seven tracks, and whatever beats appear only quicken the pulse and heighten the tension. Even if these tracks came supplied with movement-inducing rhythms, the mood-affecting elements would be too overwhelming to inspire anything but nail-biting paranoia and other forms of unease. To some, Everdom will surely be too creeped out to stomach. For others, it will be spellbinding.