- Unique, thrilling sonic experiments.
- Lanark Artefax's website has been turned into an almost impossible to navigate digital archive, made up of invented words and nonsensical phrases. The many, randomly labeled links take you to pages about topics like the mineral Lanarkite (depicted on Corra Linn's cover), the Corra Linn waterfall, parallel universes and a hydroelectric power station. It all seems to revolve around Lanarkshire and the theme of nature (a portion of each purchase on Bandcamp goes to the Scottish Wildlife Trust).
MacRae once told Conor McTernan about his fascination with "the sublime," a concept that has long been inseparable from the idea of natural beauty. For most dance music artists, these kinds of references could seem hollow and overly ambitious. But in MacRae's case, they carry some weight. Whities 011, his last release, still feels like a landmark. The dance floor hit "Touch Absence" aside, the EP was experimental and sonically sharp, even brutal, but made with an operatic sense of romance and drama that few of his peers come close to.
Corra Linn's title track picks up where Whities 011 left off. His signature choral vocals are chopped and mashed into anxious jungle breaks. It's a track that sounds like it's either about to collapse under the weight of its emotion or break free from it—as Ray Philp once suggested, MacRae's music can sound like it's trying to escape itself. "Moo Orphaned Drift" is initially disjointed and chaotic, but eventually settles into something driving and optimistic. "Ferthenheap" is made up only of a soft piano track and a hazy, muffled vocal sample. It seems to channel Aphex Twin's more delicate moments, but falls a little flat this time. It's hard to know exactly what MacRae is trying to say with this release, but for the most part there's still something unique and thrilling about the way he says it.
A1 Corra Linn
B1 Moo Orphaned Drift