Algiers - There Is No Year Vinyl Record
Atlanta via London/NYC four-piece Algiers return in 2020 with their third album, There Is No Year. Even those aware of the ideals of this outspoken act will find their latest direction on There Is No Year traversing unprecedented ground. Coming off two years of nonstop world-touring for their critically acclaimed second album, The Underside of Power, There is No Year solidifies and expands upon the doom-laden soul of their foundation, toward an even more epic, genre-reformatting sound, one somehow suspended in the amber of "a different era," as described by guitarist Lee Tesche.
From the instant synth-pulse of the opening seconds of "There is No Year," it's clear that Algiers have set out to stake new ground, internally as much as sonically. At the forefront of this evolution is the centrality of power housed in Algiers' multi-instrumentalist lead vocalist, Franklin James Fisher, whose voice and words provide the backbone of the album, his lyrics sourced entirely from an epic poem, Misophonia, composed during his search for meaning amidst a protracted personal period of anxiety and lack. Whether he is lilting over post-Lynchian synth-whorl like a spot-lit bandleader, as on "Unoccupied," or reincarnating the spirit of thrumming 80s R&B into a proto-no wave dancefloor classic straight from 2046, as on "Chaka," there is a tangible emotional electricity to Fisher's delivery, a personal valence that makes you want, more than anything, to believe, even while not quite knowing where we're headed.
No less next-level in Algiers' conception is the ambition of the aural architecture they manage to summon. Under the direction of producers Randall Dunn [Sunn O))), Earth] and Ben Greenberg [Uniform, Hubble), There Is No Year encompasses future-minded post-punk R&B from the trapped heart of ATL, where they began; to industrial soundscapes à la 4AD-era Scott Walker or Iggy & Bowie's Berlin period; to something like the synthetic son of Marvin Gaye and Fever Ray. The whip-tight rhythm section of multi-instrumentalist Ryan Mahan and Matt Tong (ex-Bloc Party) moves back and forth from infectious menace to sci-fi soundtrack to big band fever dream. Mahan's beat programming and synth constructions fill out the fibrous threshold, while Tesche's sound-sleeves and aural-layering shapeshift into a richly polished means of exploration, revealing more and more the deeper you delve.
- There Is No Year
- Hour of the Furnaces
- Losing is Ours
- Wait for The Sound
- Repeating Night
- We Can't Be Found
- Nothing Bloomed