Depersonalisation

Among this lo-fi production lies dashes of cinematic atmospherics and a mass of confused emotions. They need you near, but find it easier to push you away.

The Brisbane four piece can be a bit of downer, but they’re careful to insert enough lightness to counteract their album’s more brooding turns.

Depersonalisation plays with a kind of intense familiarity that goes down so easily that the record seems to end before it even gets started—like a fog that rolls through the room and evaporates before you realize it was there.

It’s not that there’s a shortage of good ideas on Depersonalisation; it’s just that, in its attempts to sound lo-fi and to shroud everything in darkness, a fair few of those ideas have been smothered.

It’s not as if Nite Fields are beyond redemption or a different outlook. The signs are there, but they just haven’t come together in a way that makes significant impact — at least not yet.