London producer Guy Brewer's first album under the Carrier name dismantles the idea of progress in electronic music, building rhythm as something bodily rather than mechanical. Opener 'A Point Most Crucial' grinds into life like machinery waking from hibernation, before 'Outer Shell' folds sharp percussion into a gauzy, shifting fog. On 'That Veil of Yours', a spectral voice from Voice Actor flickers in and out of focus, trapped between melody and texture, while 'Wave After Wave' tunnels inward, its low-end pressure blooming into disorienting beauty. 'Amber Circle' and 'Lowland Tropic' move with volcanic patience with each bar eroding the next while closer 'Offshore', featuring Memotone, releases the weight into humid stillness. Brewer has always built sound like a sculptor - minimal on the surface, teeming with hidden detail - but here he reaches something stranger and more emotional: remembering the body that still beats beneath the machine.
