This is a confident record that focuses on beat and melody, while still allowing the group space to throw in other musical ideas.
In its least engaging moments, Platform feels more like a homework assignment geared to some equivocal set than an album. In its better moments, it’s electronic music for the fourth-dimension.
Lopatin still manages to stand out from the pack. Garden of Delete is another adventure watching your own sense of subjectivity drown in a pool of confusion.
In a U-turn from the cerebral escape of Blanck Mass, Dumb Flesh stretches tautly over gnarled techno bones.