Dominae

Unashamedly retro, undeniably inventive.

There’s more to admitting your deepest desires and fears than just saying them out loud, of course, and the record’s most affecting moments are when it fully commits to its confessions—when you can believe that she, or Ejecta, is singing as truthfully as possible without drowning. It might take a moment to sink in, but it's there.

Macomber’s steadily otherworldly ether balances that pompous pomp for a hallowed New Wave tent revival worth getting excited over.

Worryingly, there’s a niggling feeling that nothing on ‘Dominae’ is ear-worming enough to make them as successful just four years on.