at least Girls is fun? and it seems like that, at its few heights, is what translates the best for him. but even then, you can just smell the shiftiness, the nagging where, even as crunchy, flyaway synths rock throughout, you can tell that this is all clearly built upon a nostalgic corpse—or, even with all complaints of LCD Soundsystem worship particularly, corpses plural. it's just finally hit the point where new rave and dance-punk have been collectively missing from younger listeners' ears (bit of a self-indictment), and it can largely be brought back to life without care for any sentiments towards and from it.

sure, there's been creative fusions and explorations of these similar genre calling cards recently; Soul Kiss by Haru Nemuri & Frost Children, and WOOF. by Fat Dog immediately spring to light, and this year is the better for them. but those two projects at least had their hearts buried within their hardcore and EBM thrashings respectively, the care needed to make modern takes on their influences and growths mean anything at all.

this has none of that, it's a swing without a bat in hand. the keys to unlock more doors past this aren't here; this is a dead end. but it's catchy in its highlights, and at least if this interests you, you're all but bound to find something, someone else doing this with even a shred greater intent, execution, and anxious thrill. go find them, please—it's not like you can even glean any new insight to new york from this. this is transplant music.