Rustie - Green Language
Second album release from LuckyMe producer features canny cameos and more giddy exuberance
Electronic producer Rustie’s lauded debut three years ago, Glass Swords, was like shoving a few packets of fizzy Chewits in your ears; gaudy, exuberant, mildly nauseating, giddy; a kind of aural sugar rush. It was rightly heralded as being ground-breaking and invigorating, even if it was a bit toilsome; like one too many goes on the waltzers. It had a charm though, a febrile and untethered day-glo ecstasy.
His follow-up reaches for those same woozy heights and largely succeeds; the landscape it emerges onto is different however. The US’s gauche love-in with EDM has seen an amping up of the stakes, and it has undoubtedly influenced Rustie’s productions. Green Language has the necessary braggadocio and canny cameos that will no doubt soon see the Glasgow native performing at next year’s Electric Candy Mollycaust (tbc), flying to Las Vegas in private jets while being grilled by Annie Mac on what exactly is his favourite sushi bar in Pollok.
The album drips with that grandiose ambition. It opens with a pair of short synthy swashes (like EDM via OPN) before the obscenely euphoric ‘Vaptor’, with its hulking peaks and troughs, recreates the sensation of listening to Daft Punk’s ‘Indo Silver Club’ while trapped inside a tumbledryer. ‘Paradise Stone’ is a relatively delicate vignette which segues into a pair of rambunctious guest MC spots, from D Double E, and then the incorrigible Danny Brown at his most shrill and wearisome, rapping at you from his high chair. ‘He Hate Me’ featuring Gorgeous Children is a more seductive effort while ‘Velcro’ channels Rustie’s penchant for anthemic arpeggios with big build-ups and even bigger drops. ‘Lost’ in contrast is a futuristic G-funk ballad with Redinho crooning on vocoder and ‘Dream On’ is an R&B slow jam filtered through some more brazen synths. The record closes as it begins, with some earnest ambience.
It doesn’t have the impact of his debut, but the swagger and the capriciousness on offer is still intoxicating. Stop the ride I wanna get off? Not just yet.