Birds chirp; sun streaks through the leaves. Water condenses and drips off the side of a thousand plastic iced coffee cups. The air is as thick as cigarette smoke, but the cobalt sky is its own intoxicant. Couples walk hand-in-hand down the sweltering sidewalk. It's summer, friends. And elusive South London electronic artist Burial gives precisely zero fucks.
Subtemple—a two-track, 17-minute released without warning this morning—is Burial's first original release since last November's Youth Death / Nightmarket EP. That was a late-night trip in itself, but it's eclipsed by Subtemple's sinister, looping paranoia. The title track clinks and cranks around white noise, underwater loops and unfamiliar voices washing in and out for seven minutes. "Beachfires" works its bass synths together like Gregorian chants: deep and primal but inconsistent enough to let the static rule.
It's terrifying and brilliant and you can listen to it below.
Alex Robert Ross is frightened. Follow him on Twitter.