Outstanding LA noir from James Rushford, who had a hand in two enduring Kye belters: Manhunter (his 2013 collab with old mucker Joe Talia) and the Food Court LP (with Talia and Francis Plagne). Actually this record tickles a that hasn’t been tickled since Plagne’s own Moss Trumpet (behave!) offering up a tour de force of contemporary electroacoustic world-building. Its mood is intense but never overwrought, delivering a good dose of the numinous, occult-dabbling decadence suggested by the incredible supine serpent-woman cover painting, but ultimately heading somewhere more pointedly futuristic, cold, metallic – organic instrumentation (piano, organ, flutes, viola, voice) ceding ever more ground to melancholic Terminator synths and bombed-out, head-crushing machine-ambience, as if Sarah Connor bodged the ol’ time travel and found herself stuck in Edwardian London, caning laudanum in a futile effort to suppress those pesky Judgement Day visions of genocidal cyborgs on the rampage and downtown LA in flames. As it happens the Australian Rushford made The Body’s Night in LA (aha!), and perhaps I’m pushing the pulp-cinematic comparisons too far when I say there are passages here that seem to take Elliot Goldenthal’s brooding, steel-grey scoring of Heat and run with it, but hey that’s how it feels right now. Rushford's stated influences show more discernment on his part than we can muster: contemporary composers Klaus Lang and Jakob Ullmann, '80s purveyors of bedroom electronics like DDAA, and the totalising nihilistic sound design of black metal. Complex, poised, meticulous, open to a multitude of interpretations (art baby!), this is just an outstanding record, the real deal, new music that explores the outer limits of medium and palette, and with depth of feeling equal to its depth of learning. DO NOT MISS.