I honestly am at a loss here, I have no way to differentiate this from every previous Hot Chip album. The beat goes thump thump thump thump, the boys since sweetly over top, some synths come in, everything takes its time, lingering like sadness over repeating beats beats beats beats.
The one major standout is Flutes, which layers an eerie vocal sample over slow builds and vulnerable synths, building to the album's biggest, most powerful moments.
On the other side of the coin there's Now There's Nothing, which seems awfully thin on ideas, repeating the same melodies limply, with only the barest late-Genesis-level proggy touches to recommend it.
The band's album art is telling, with their abstractions and colors, fitting the sound on the discs, engaged, but at a distance. I don't get the sense that the band's heart is in it, the iciness has just overcome the sentiment, and without heart, there's not a lot left to Hot Chip that you can't get better elsewhere 2/5
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