Albums are weird these days. The days of simply crafting 10-15 pieces of music that coherently follow on from one another are going the way of the fax machine.
At the beginning of the year Drake dropped a "playlist" and a number of artists since then have shucked and jived around the traditional concept of an "album" when releasing a body of work.
This is obviously not new but something in 2017's air has more people doing it than usual. Some of the most recent examples are R&B singer H.E.R.'s new self-titled album and experimental composer Eluvium's latest work Shuffle Drones.
H.E.R. - H.E.R.
Imagine a sultry tryst in a room lit by slow-burning candles and you may get a feel for the vibe this project wants to give off.
In Say It Again her suede vocals conjure a phantom digit sliding down one's spine as she says, You had a lot to say/ No more talking you can use that mouth in other ways. The first third of the project sounds like and deals with the smouldering lust of two lovers who've been waiting for their chance forever.
The project, however, is not just background music for sexy times. As the album unravels so does the fictional relationship that kicked it off. By the final track H.E.R. is morosely telling her lover, You can't make me love you if I won't/ You can't change my heart/ You're trying too hard.
LISTEN | H.E.R's Say it Again
While one could probably technically call this an album, it feels more like a playlist called Modern Relationships. A lot of the songs on the project have appeared either on her previous EPs or on other albums. Perhaps it is best to think of it as an anthology rather than an album.
That does not stop it from being a beautifully collated and emotional body of work. It just may be a little disappointing if you are a Day 1 fan.
Eluvium - Shuffle Drones
Including the word "experimental" in a job description is a sure way to tickle the tits of pretentious folks. It also means there is a good chance that whatever you produce is going to come from much further left of field than your average communist. Experimental-cum-ambient composer Eluvium has plopped himself snugly into that stereotype with his "album" Shuffle Drones.
The album is unlike any I've ever encountered. For one thing it has 23 tracks with a total running time of 13 minutes. Each song is 32 seconds and is designed so that no matter what order you listen, each song flows seamlessly into the next so the whole thing sounds like one long song.
LISTEN | Eluvium's Drone Orchestration
In a weird pseudo-philosophical way it is like a whole bunch of albums living in one body of work. No matter how strong the shuffle function on your phone is, every song fits and every new shuffle creates a subtly different effect. The downside of all this experimentalism is that it has no real end point, so after 13 minutes the album abruptly cuts unless you have it on repeat.
As for the music, Shuffle Drones is pensive, peaceful, but not light. It is the kind of ambient music one could expect at the end of a tragic love story, when lover A has mistakenly killed lover B and is now standing on the edge of a cliff with slow-motion tears descending her cheek. This is not social music; unless you are part of a strange yoga cult, you should listen to this alone.
• Both albums are available for streaming on Apple Music
