Daydream Repeat

Four Tet's new album Three came out recently, his twelfth album (roughly) and following on the footsteps of 16 Oceans (released just as lockdown kicked in four years ago and part of the soundtrack of that time for me) and 2017's New Energy, it showcases and encapsulates everything that the Four Tet sound has come to be- skippy rhythms, layered string parts (harps, guitars, whatever they are, those signature string sounds- I love them), washes of ambient synths and the lightness of touch he brings to everything. There are eight tracks, two sides of vinyl, a concise and compact record that reveals a little more with each play. Opening track Loved came out last year, a beautiful piece of music built around a hip hop breakbeat, a shaker and  some slightly mournful but brightly coloured synths. Forty minutes later Three closes with Three Drums, also out last year, an epic piece of music that twists and turns and draws the listener in, an emotive piece of electronic music. In between he uses his familiar sounds and shifts them around- hisses and static, drums occasionally slightly out of sync to surprise you, strings, loops, harps playing little melody lines, ambient moments and dancefloor moments. Gliding Through Everything flutters. Skater is led the unexpected appearance of a guitar that could have come from a Cure record in 1990 and an echo- laden vocal sample. So Blue is broken ambient, traces of synth, a unintelligible female voice and two minutes in another slow motion drum break. 

On Daydream Repeat he locks into an urgent, propulsive groove and there are bursts of noise, possibly a guitar distorted to pieces, a piano line twinkling over the sheet wall of feedback, that suddenly drops out leaving the drums and the piano dancing around. It's superb stuff, the work of  a master craftsman at the top of his game, finding new ways to move us. 

The record sleeve doesn't give much away, a collage of repeating rectangular pictures, coloured in water colour washes, the tracklist on the back with minimal credits, and the number 3 on either side of the label on the centre of the record. Inside the sleeve there's a piece of light green A4 paper, with part of the sleeve on it, as if done at the work photocopier in a rush. Very enigmatic.