Critiques CD: Matthew Dear | Beams

Matthew Dear is one of those shrewd electronic producers I’ve never quite been able to peg, and Lord knows us music writers love all the neat, beat-defining terminology. Known for crafting sublimely dark and shadowy atmospheres, often associated with “challenging” minimal techno strands, Dear’s fifth album, Beams, is in many ways his rapturous coming out as a gifted yet eminently accessible avant-pop songwriter/producer/keyboardist/guitarist/singer – capable of cooking up warm electro beats that are at once club-ready, contemplative and conclusively funky. The man with numerous aliases (Audion, Jabberjaw, False) has been vouched for by stubborn techno purists while also winning over a broader range of listeners with his leftfield, rhythmic pop excursions. On Beams, he even embraces bass-driven disco grooves (“Up and Out”), simmering post-punk energy (“Earthforms”) and a glitchy, sun-soaked synth haze (“Ahead of Myself”). Dear’s songwriting only enhances the music – his baritone pipes are showcased in Dear-typical robotic fashion, hitting you hard with their unguarded honesty. Hints of Hot Chip, Bowie, Brian Eno and LCD Soundsystem are felt through all the enchanting melancholy. What’s impressive about this guy is that with his decade + mastery of gorgeous basslines, he can isolate a single riff or sample and build an unexpected, remarkably astute melody around it. The music here feels effortlessly light and breezy, but the songwriting provides a coating of oddly affecting soulfulness to Beams. Share it with the electro geeks AND the experimental dilettantes in your life.