Brazil's Gimu works at a rate very few can keep up with. Considering just the eight releases put out last year and the four already provided within the past six months, Gimu's catalog is massive, yet distinct and reliable. The title of his mid-May album They All Left One By One. They All Left the Radio On. successfully elucidated the world his music inhabits: lonely, chambered drones masked by the nearby crackle of radio static. Where Polish textural scholar Pleq temperately imbued such timbres on 2010's Ballet Mechanic, Gimu's latest A Silent Stroll on Sombre St. has this in spades.
Divergent from Pleq, the spectrum of frequencies Gimu covers carries less treble, and emphasis is placed within the range of 20-200 Hz. A distant, train-like warble swims through the unsettling obscurity of "Saw Shadows Loom Over You", while "So Am I, Rachel" roars with a melancholic strain. Like Leyland Kirby's recent turntablism, the melodies swathed in pops echo themselves to a degree at which the song is veiled by what were once subtler complements (like the rippling hiss of "Still"). Whether choral and arcane or wondrously mutant, Sombre St. doesn't transport as much as it does already feel familiar.
Though Gimu's discography is rife with material of this ilk, he's always manipulated it and drawn distinctions between albums that are even visible when comparing They All Left to Sombre St. despite being released just over a month apart. The former is pensively cohesive, each piece reshaping itself, though it can grow stagnant with progression; the latter expresses just as much harmony, but Gimu employs his instruments with ample variation. Outside of a context relative to his preceding work, Gimu wishes to follow the same path as ever, and he has no reason to take any detours when trailing through Sombre St.
[Stream/Buy A Silent Stroll on Sombre St. from Constellation Tatsu]