Carrier’s debut album features eight elegantly rude arrangements that dance in negative space between Photek’s frictional syncopations, Rhythm & Sound’s dubwise minimalism and Torsten Pröfrock’s fractured dynamics, bolstered on two tracks by contributions from Voice Actor & Memotone, summoning a noirish, jazzier frisson to his signature metrics and temporalities.

Since hard-snagging our ears and feet in 2023 with 12”s for FELT and his own eponymous label, Guy Brewer’s Carrier has become the go-to project for anyone who had almost given up on chasing these sort of ultra-subtle but vitally distinctive new permutations in dance music. For the past two years, his unpredictable variations within a style have kept us all tip-toed and seat-edged with organisations of a finely chiselled percussive palette and smouldering ambient noise that distills the salient aspects and spirits of D&B, dub techno, electro-acoustic music and trip hop with unique traction. In effect, he’s enacted a clear leap of imagination from previous work issued as part of Commix and solo as Shifted that only continues to reveal hallucinatory psychoacoustics on this first album detail. 

‘Rhythm Immortal’ sees Brewer tilt the project into slower, resoundingly more atmospheric realms, better to luxuriate in the instinctive guile and integer-stepping style ’n pattern of his incredible sound. At the album’s poles, a vocal cameo by cult gynoid Voice Actor follows from Gavsborg’s on a preceding 7” single to ideally model his sound’s mutability and compatibility with trip hop forms, and Memotone helps seal the deal with a hovering glow lent to ‘Offshore’, whilst Carrier jostles the reins throughout with masterful control of his thing, crisply purposed to the album canvas. In that context, it’s perfectly adaptable to bodies both supine or in motion, ushering a hypnagogic sway with ‘A Point Most Crucial’, and hingeing around the slightest interplay of 16th note hi-hat ruffles and recoiling reverbs on ‘Outer Shell’, or blissfully stepping on knife-edge 2-step on ‘Wave After Wave’. 

The album conveys a deeply personal pulse and spiritual devotion to that kind of all-tension-no-release mode typical of so much music we love - from Kode9’s earliest re-factoring of Prince to Photek’s ‘Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu’, from T++/Dynamo and Traktor’s asymmetric dynamics to Burial’s shockout debut - refactored with a rare conviction in its unspoken powers to activate the eyes-shut imagination. Unmissable stuff.