The Last Panthers is a television show that dives deep into the crime world in a mystery about stolen diamonds. I think. To be honest, I haven’t seen it. You don’t need to in order to appreciate Clark’s soundtrack for the show.

Judging from the soundtrack, I would expect The Last Panthers to feel like a dark, dangerous trip for its heroes. Clark is in prime form here: textures are everywhere, but more interesting is how he uses them to create weird sort-of sound effects, much like Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross did with such aplomb on the Gone Girl soundtrack.

As a point of comparison, Clark’s work does beg to be compared to the output from Trent and Atticus. It sounds like they’re exploring similar themes, in the sense that they’re using electronic music and it’s repetitious rhythms to slowly build to climaxes and crescendos.

What makes Clark’s record different from anything Reznor and Ross have done is that it feels more free to explore. Undoubtedly, this has to do with writing for television instead of the movies. While themes repeat, and often grow more sinister in time, the space between them can breathe. Cryogenic breathes until it slowly descends back towards darkness by the end. (It only takes two notes for Clark to create a strong sense of unease, which is astounding.)

Much of the soundtrack, certainly its most impactful moments, live within that tension and unease. Brother Killer is a great example. It excels at building tension to a point that feels unbearable, until suddenly becoming something else.

Unlike film soundtracks, The Last Panthers is missing a sense of focus in that regard. But when Clark is able to write focused thematic pieces, he excels. Diamonds Aren’t Forever and Diamonds Aren’t Forever II are perfect examples of this: clearly spiritually related songs, with similar themes, the tension builds to a remarkable climax of texture and discomfort with II.

In a lot of ways, Clark’s record goes beyond many expectations for a soundtrack. It carries itself as well as his 2014 record did, and although it lacks the focus, it feels exploratory and powerful. Clark understands and enjoys his exploring the aesthetic of film, and because his music is so textural, it’s a natural fit.

The Last Panthers is, on record, a visual story as much as it would be on television. As an album, it holds up well with the rest of his library. Like everything Clark makes, there’s a melancholic motion that carries it all forward. It’s an astounding contribution to electronic music and to film soundtracks, and one that’s worth listening to without a visual point of reference.

The Last Panthers is an original take on a well-trodden genre that feels uniquely Clark. It’s a total treat.

The post Clark: The Last Panthers appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Battles is a band you either love or hate. And La Di Da Di probably won’t change your mind about this all-American avant-garde band, but I hope it will (if you aren’t into them). Unlike their first and second albums, which at least featured vocalists in some fashion, La Di Da Di is completely vocal-less. And I don’t think it matters.

Battles has pulled off what a lot of people, including myself, probably largely thought was impossible: make an instrumental rock record that sounds interesting. Loaded with effects, keyboards, big riffs, and incredibly intricate layering work, La Di Da Di is an effort you should not miss.

Each member of Battles comes from other prestigious groups, the most recognizable of which is probably Helmet. This is far better than any of their previous records. Long-time fans will tell you that Battles is “struggling” without a vocalist; I believe they’re just hitting their prime as songwriters and musicians.

La Di Da Di is a keeper.

The post Battles: La Di Da Di appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

In a lot of ways, Tender Buttons feels like an experiment in minimalism. While not out of place today, critics observed at the time that it felt like certain tracks were missing pieces. Now, we recognize this sound as a sort of minimalist shoe-gazing dream pop, but Tender Buttons feels like it was a psychedelic tour-de-force ten years ahead of its time.

The vocals on this record are in a particularly special place: thanks to minimalist production and a lack of other in-your-face instrumentation, the vocals really stand out. And their airy nature, but post-punk surroundings mean that this can fit in well next to Girlpool or Beach House.

The post Broadcast: Tender Buttons appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Even the record’s most popular tracks would be considered oddities by today’s standards, but I’d argue that’s what actually makes it a great record. Before electronic music became a convention, Autechre was testing the boundaries and trying things out. And I don’t feel like we get that today, at least not in the same way.

Part of that is the way the album embraces techno. In a lot of circles, particularly today’s synth-pop scene, techno seems to have fallen out of fashion. Autechre was inventive with Incunabula, but they weren’t so many years ahead of their time as to sound like Sylvan Esso. They were influenced by techno like everybody else was in 1993.

That being said, it’s not as if all electronic music used to sound like this. Autechre is in a league of their own throughout. Even they know they’re doing something unique: Incunabula is Latin and references the early development or infancy of an object. (The term was originally used to describe printed books published before 1501.) It’s a sly reference to the groundbreaking work Autechre was doing in the genre.

The post Autechre: Incunabula appeared first on Unsung Sundays.