Blanck Mass

Animated Violence Mild

It is thrilling, a whirlwind of textures wrapped up in a relatively short run-time, with a sonic consistency that wasn’t always present in 2017’s World Eater.

It is all bark, all bite and Power’s greatest and most consistent release under the Blanck Mass alias, bearing a message that is as crucial as it is necessary.

Put simply, Animated Violence Mild is an excellent album which is imbued with righteous vitriol. This isn’t just the best Blanck Mass album to date, it’s also the best record that Power has been involved in, which really is saying something.

Animated Violence Mild is a powerful collection of music made in response to a phenomenon that is too pervasive to ignore in the world today, and one well worth the listen.

The past eight years have seen Blanck Mass creep forwards to slowly become one of the UK’s most exciting experimental producers. ‘Animated Violence Mild’ is the pay-off, a fantastic, delirious soundtrack to our demise.

Animated Violence Mild sounds and feels like a reaction, reflection and continuation of the teeth-baring protest of its predecessor.

Just like the grief it communicates, this album can’t be reduced to something linear, instead surprising you at every turn: one moment terrifying, the next, transcendent.

When the album ends, it leaves an odd feeling of relief that the unrelenting pummelling is over ... but also total enchantment, a need to listen again, to check that what you heard and felt was real, that the album wasn’t a fluke.

Power is just as skilled at finding the beauty in destruction, and that side of his music takes the lead on Animated Violence Mild.

Not surprisingly, many of the highlights of his fourth solo album – a treatise on capitalism and loss – nod to Power’s better-known band.