It's tempting to try and get all scholarly when talking about Movement. Holly Herndon is essentially the electronic equivalent of a prodigious, classically trained pianist. Trained at Mills College, Herndon is pursuing a Masters in Electronic Music and has already received significant academic accolades for her works. But to only focus on that part of her background would result in not enjoying Movement at its most fertile. On Movement, Herndon marries her seemingly academic fascination with blurring the lines between the organic (the human voice) and the synthetic and her love of 90's club music (think acid house, minimal techno, EBM), which probably developed as a result of a stint as a party animal in Berlin in her younger years. An album of dualities, Movement is as disorienting as it is thrilling, and as clinically intricate as it is euphorically primal.

What's quite remarkable about Movement is how engaging it is over seven tracks, especially when only two of them feel like actual "songs" in the more traditional sense. But because they are so strong, you don't even notice. 'Fade', the album's lead single, is truly stunning. It's sparse build-up is so perfectly paced, by the time the song reaches its crystalline peak in the middle your brain's pleasure and danger sensors will be throbbing into overdrive simultaneously and you'll be rendered completely motionless, yet desperately wanting to dance. The stuttering vocal clip slots itself into the gold standard dance beat like two cogs turning each other and it's just perfect. Elsewhere, title track, 'Movement', juggles balls of gooey synths, elastic beats and rushing vocal runs, creating a circle of glowing ether to similarly mesmerising effect. There's such an unmistakable homage to 90's dance music in these songs but never does it feel clinical or ironic – Herndon has found a way to exploit their emotional potential with modern technology and composition techniques unfathomable to the layperson.

However, though Movement only has two real standalone singles, the remaining pieces are more like experimental sound exercises. But they are still vital to the album's success because they alternately fortify and disintegrate the ground beneath you on your journey through the album, at just the right times, and it making you want to persevere through some genuinely challenging moments. The eerie mechanical hum of 'Terminal' and the digitally hung, drawn and quartered voices of 'Breathe' help the album undulate along a seamless "soothe, shock then awe" pattern that renders you defenceless for Movement's dazzling centrepieces. The interplay between the "songs" and the "experiments" on Movement encapsulate the theme of symbiosis and as a result, the album's disparate elements work together in harmony to create a holistically engaging experience.

Blurring the lines between nature and machine, intellect and primailty, life and death, and noise and melody, Movement ends up being a superb album. It makes you feel like you're standing on the precipice of something unknown and beautifully emulates those feelings associated with tempting fate by dipping your toe in the waters of the side unknown. Herndon's meticulous, digital interpretation of these feelings is what makes Movement wordless poetry in motion.