King Krule - Space Heavy

Like much of his previous work, King Krule's 'Space Heavy' feels like a free fall. With each release, he meticulously crafts a space to step into, and his fourth album is no different. It's a sonic sinking into a black hole, the breath taken from under you. Fear not, though. The sheer brilliance of Archy Marshall's latest is more than enough to cushion your fall.

Typically contemplative and somewhat downbeat, 'Space Heavy' is a plunge into familiar territory for King Krule, but a far deeper dive than usual. 'Pink Shell' is a growling, cacophonous moment of glee – it's all saxophone and unceasing percussion that feels delivered with a certain giddiness. By contrast, 'Seaforth' is a spacious love song that has a sense of still at its core. The vocals are gentler, finding peace and harmony amidst the chaos. He finds comfort in those dark corners, a quiet beauty from sitting in the void. It's eery and unsettling, but there's a wave of relief that seems to intensify the further into that you fall.

In a lot of ways, 'Space Heavy' feels like the sum of everything that has come before for King Krule. It's the final fall – from the scratched-throat yells of the titular track to the cinematic strings of 'When Vanishing' to the spatial, goose-bump-inducing glory of 'Flimsy', they all tumble with him. His ability to play with textures and rapidly changing emotions is inimitable, and on this album, he proves there will always be more and more layers to his talent to unfold. It's commanding, warranting the kind of listening that immerses you into that mysterious and yet unbelievable world – it calls for an uninterrupted voyage into 'Space Heavy' to truly appreciate the genius of King Krule.