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Yeezus is a seminal listen. Acclaim or criticism or indifference - how people react to that album is telling of trend and its hoard of dichotomies. It's now an honouree part of contemporary cultures great central pivot, via which opinions develop and contextualise. And in fact, it shows how horrendously contemporary having an opinion is; especially one that's ideologically charged ('Shit, I hate Kanye!'...) but experientially void ('...Cus he's such a prick'). Yeezus, in short, is the fan the shit hit and we all got pretty dirty.

Evian Christ's production featured on Yeezus. That fact flows liberally throughout most critical discussions of him and his music. I thought, therefore (for the sake of objectivity) I'd try and exorcize Yeezus early on, and de-kanye my small, tired brain.

In terms of production value, Waterfall is a record of rare and fascinating innovation. Blending progressive genre modification with a slick weave of personal nuances, Evian deconstructs and reconfigures the familiar, turning a whole host of heritages inside out. Hip-Hop, R&B, the gritty realms of Ghetto House - each mass broken down and the inner workings rummaged. The process is voyeuristic, like suddenly becoming privy to the mechanisms of genre that have always, subconsciously, made you dance and think and feel in particular ways. How? It's lacking any clear allegiances - a critical and creative distance that eliminates the guilt of chopping and cutting and sandblasting particular genres. It's a process of over-production, exaggerating - and recontextualising - specific tropes til the whole ensemble feels almost satirical. It's meta-production - self-referential, production about production.

'Waterfall' slips pretty freely between the ambient soundscape present on Christ's earlier material, and more physical, hyper-aggressive sonics. 'Salt-Carousel' is relentless: beats seemingly created from a mixture of rhythmic gunfire and the deep disturbance of a live jack lead wrongly unplugged. The drops throughout are atomic - great minimal-yet-maximalist implosions so dirty that listening in public, in a café, while eating salad, feels horribly wrong. There is nothing salad about Evian Christ. This shit is unhealthy.

Well, not entirely. As mentioned, there are moments of ambience - tax havens where listening doesn't cost you your soul. 'Waterfall' features these wonderfully anthemic, celestial breaks - moments of grace and beauty that momentarily co-exists with the dark, post-life beats, before being consumed once again.

Overall, I'm pretty split. Where this is a testimony to vast technical ability, it also feels weirdly like a - albeit incredible - showreel. It's dense with ideas - hyperactive and nomadic. It ends so soon and suddenly (literally, with a series of terrifying, gunshot-esque bass dumps).

So it both succeeds and fails. As a fully formed whole it's lacking; as nucleus around which a future proliferates and ideas expand, it's seriously exciting. Could I listen again and again? I don't think so. But an impression has definitely been made that's serious and lasting, and maybe, at such an infant stage, that's the bigger victory.

Note: the 'score' I've given reflects the above divide - and will hopefully outrage the kind of people that - rather than reading shit - simply take the numerical average across all reviews and blithely accept that as gospel.