Proem: "Hope Is Great But We Need Caffeine"

Appropriately traumatized by the arrival of premature twin daughters, IDM stalwart Richard Bailey has rebelled: he’s opted to convert his angst not into crisp digital crunches but drone, sensibly electing that his latest LP bear the black “dark ambient” flag (or, as he likes to call it, sleepcore). For fans who crave his glitchy, trademark luminescence, that news went down like a one-legged tap-dancer. Their screams for a “proem record with beats and lushy melodies” were met with a stern “I like the dark” on Bailey’s comments page, the man having pulled himself through some restless nights by speed-completing Splinter Cell 3. And just as Amon Tobin’s eerie score helped accentuate Sam Fisher’s covert sneaking, Proem’s Till There’s No Breath helps those brave enough map their own subconscious vortices. Sleep-defying horrors lurk everywhere, from the sound of the wind becoming gradually sentient to faces in the far wall woodchip.

“Hope Is Great But We Need Caffeine,” then, is the horrors turning in for the night; some sublime starlight ushering in the sun. Rounding off Till There’s No Breath in horror-film-with-happy-ending style, it’s as close to the lush playful beats that Proem made his name with (just extra lush and minus the beats). Tolling like some brilliant slow bell, pads ring out like Christmas snow to give the insomniac a last chance for sleep. Lights come on, people sleep, clouds roll away into clarity. It’s all good. Suffice to say it sticks out from his dark mix like a pair of polished cat’s eyes, but after a night asking questions and making death-threats at your reflection, you’ll welcome it, believe me. Above all that, it’s a piece of music with a really honest title: you’ll need several shots of the freshly-ground stuff if you want to feel stressed again after this one.