Andy Boay

Another ethereal release lands from Andy White under his Andy Boay banner. One half of Tonstartssbandht with his brother Edwin, the Boay has always shared a lot of DNA with the band. The cavernous vocals remain, as does the crystal production that seeped in on Petunia, as the crackles of lo-fi filtered away in the band’s last few releases. With Doomed, White gets lost even further in the clouds than usual, offering up a reverb-drenched pop nugget that should appeal to the most ardent Animal Collective fans as well as the kosmiche travelers tuned to A.R. and Machines. The record touches on more traditional corners of pop, but it soars when White nears a kind of choral grace that turns any room into a vaulted cathedral.

Rhythms burble endlessly, swerving around rocks and rivulets in time and space. Andy’s strings shimmer, ricocheting sound off the highest reaches of sky and dripping down the walls with a sound that sparkles. There’s a humid hollow to the record; a sound that feels vernal and green. The cathedral at the core of Doomed conjures more vaulted treetops, dappled in dew, than glass and beams, but it’s divine all the same. We’re all invited to the tent as Andy carves out modern day hymns that call out to his own voice in triplicate, answering his own call and inviting us to do the same.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.