Sometimes it is hard to not let your own perceptions of music be influenced by the opinions of others. Few come as hyped as this sophomore effort from Burial, the shining light of London’s growing dubstep movement. Heralded by fans and critics alike, anticipation has surrounded Untrue since the first whispers of its release emerged. While Burial may not have garnered similar column inches within Australian shores, the discerning forum stalker cannot escape the buzz regarding this enigmatic, mysterious recluse.

In many ways Burial is an anomaly within the dynamics of dance music culture, as his allure is marked with contradictions. While he’s one of the most revered artists of his genre, strangely, his tunes are rarely played at events within his scene. People who don’t listen to dubstep listen to Burial. Switched on fans as varied as Gilles Peterson, Thom Yorke and Bloc Party have lavished praise, the latter two having recently commissioned remixes from the anonymous producer. Perhaps part of this appeal lies in the fact that Burial’s slinky rhythms refute the snail-paced lethargy that has taken centre stage within dubstep for the past few years.

Untrue expands upon the template laid down in Burial’s debut release. Futuristic, yet retro, bearing stylistic hallmarks of 2 step garage but replacing the glossy sheen of that era with a ragged edge. The ever present clicks, crackles and hisses of his debut make a welcome return and there is little doubt as to who is at the controls. The most marked difference between Untrue and it’s predecessor is the increased presence of vocals. Indecipherable voices, like smeared handwriting renders lyrical content null and void in favour of an approach that utilises the vocal as a purely aesthetic device. Untreated, the lyrics would exist purely within the realm of sugar-sweet saccharine RnB and garage. Thankfully Burial tweaks them to sufficiently diminish the cringe factor. Yet so adept is Burial at creating emotion through sound alone, that the inclusion of vocals at points seems superfluous and detracts from the musical content.

Tracks such as Ghost Hardware absolutely kill, gaining weight with each repeated listen. Rimshots, wistful female vocals and a whole lotta fuzz converge to create a vibe which is brooding and sinister. As one becomes accustomed to the crackle and hiss of his compositions, they fade into the background only to re-emerge into consciousness as the mind lapses back into awareness. With a delicate melodic sensibility the eerie Endorphin and Dog Shelter provide a beat-less respite from Burial’s skewed garage revisionism.

There is no question that the reclusive soul behind the Burial alias has an unmistakable sense of groove, derived from countless hours spent dissecting the beatplay of El-B, Steve Gurley and Photek. What is remarkable about Burial is that his work appears to emerge from within a vacuum, largely unaffected by the trends that influence the scene which has embraced him as their own. His work flies in the face of much dubstep which has about as much nuance and subtlely as being hit repeatedly with a wet bag of cement. Instead Burial revels in a sound which is as nimble as his contemporaries are overt.

To its detriment, Untrue is several tracks too long. As the album progresses, each track starts to feel like a dilution of the former with certain sounds and textures making ghostly reappearances. This repetition instills a feeling that Burial is following his own formulas, filling in colour between the lines. Burial by numbers, if you will. As such Untrue feels much more like a consolidation of his distinctive sound than a grand evolution.

Perhaps not as blindingly revelatory as some overzealous blogsters might profess, Untrue is the sound of an artist who has found his niche in an awkward netherworld between the dancefloor and the living room. And it’s set to be one of the year’s finest albums.

For a taste, have a listen to Ghost Hardware...

And check out the tracklisting…
1. [untitled]
2. Archangel
3. Near Dark
4. Ghost Hardware
5. Endorphin
6. Etched Headplate
7. In McDonalds
8. Untrue
9. Shell of Light
10. Dog Shelter
11. Homeless
12. UK
13. Raver