Electronic music lovers are lucky to have seen amazingly consistent and lately more frequent output from one of the UK’s current best electronic musicmakers, William Bevan, or Burial. The avant-dub musician’s storied seven year career came to fruition with his acclaimed self-titled debut. The then anonymous producer’s follow-up effort, Untrue, again garnered the attention of critics, and was even up for 2007’s Mercury Prize.

But between 2007 and 2011, nothing more than remixes and single tracks were released. That long absence left fans (myself included) waiting for something more to sink our teeth into. 2011 saw his grand return, with a bunch of new material like his Street Halo EP, his Mirror/ Ego release with Thom Yorke and Four Tet, and a 12” with Massive Attack.

Burial’s latest release, Kindred, is music for the cityscape: the grittiness of his record-scratching production evokes imagery of suffocating dichotomies in a sprawling, dystopic urban centre. The album opens with “Kindred,” a rough, grainy eleven-minute opus. Its stops and starts leave you ascending the edge, barely holding on. Visceral synths and a startling bass line keeps you guessing about where his needle will thread next.

Rounding out the three-track record is “Ashtray Wasp,” which follows the basement house cut “Loner.” Burial tactfully infuses it with his looped vocal sample, couched underneath the faltering two-step rhythm and clapping snares. As the track comes to a close, it feels like the end of a long night, a sound slowly fading out of consciousness.

With every twitch, with every broken sample loop, and with every cinematic facsimile, he pulls you into his carefully crafted soundscape. Infectious, beautiful and full of wonder, Kindred is some of the best music Bevan’s ever made.

Buy this digital-only release over at Hyperdub.

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Andrew Stanley writes about music. Follow him on Twitter at @AndrewStanley_.

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