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Like his music, Gui Boratto evolves before your eyes. The Brazilian producer has been crafting meticulously stunning electronic albums for decades; he came to international attention with his first solo release in 2007, Chromophobia. It sounded sharp and focused, every note and beat in stark relief. In contrast, Take My Breath Away was a journey through hazy, lunar waves of noise that washed over the backbone rhythms like being inside an echo chamber. His 2011 release, the bleak and aptly-named III, was a dark, submerged record, fit to be played in the freakiest of nightclubs. In The K2 Chronicles, Boratto went deeper than darkness, digging one layer further towards the heart of the machine.

On Abaporu, we witness him break through to the other side. Out of all his previous releases, this one feels closest to his first, returning to the straightforwardness with which he began. Though they are stylistically similar, listeners who have heard his music transform over his career will feel a difference. The new sound stands up straight as the original iteration, but is backed by the depth of his previous work.

The album opens with 'Antropofagia', a wind tunnel that starts off like his hazier material, but gets to be more and more like something you could put on at a very hip party. 'Please Don't Take Me Home' carries the cinematic presence of The K2 Chronicles, combined with some of Buratto's most accessible delivery yet. Elements of almost too-real pop are abundant throughout the album: for a guy whose music doesn't usually include lyrics, 'Get The Party Started' is almost uncomfortably self-aware, as much an identification statement as a HaRd BaNgEr.

Abaporu covers both his strong points and the wide ground in between. 'Indigo' is a more obvious throwback, fitting in with the driving, transparent instrumentation of Chromophobia; the next track, 'Manifesto', bears some of the albums furthest-out moments, descending into a musical twilight zone, hymnal in its monklike scarcity. There's also a stronger presence of psychedelic-pop influences, a new ingredient added into the reworkings. The jumpy synth riffing in the title track moves up the weird road towards psytrance, as a wave of textures engulfs the notes. The similarly bent '22' evokes a slower, strung-out Infected Mushroom; 'Wait for Me' starts off as innocent electro-pop, but quickly gets real trippy.

Buratto is a layer maker; we are hearing not just his constant redistribution of layer size between his various genres, but his constant interest in reshaping his work, as well. He's like a projectionist, ever-amused by the different combinations he can create, and he's only improved with age.

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