Acousmatic Sorcery

While Acousmatic Sorcery is interesting and occasionally even great on its own, it ultimately it feels very much like a hyper-creative and gifted artist trying to figure out what he's doing.

Beal's vocals shift from Screaming Jay Hawkins wails to the lo-fi R&B melancholy of Cody ChesnuTT, while his chattering snake times rhythms summon up the ghosts of Moondog and Sun Ra, taking things to another level entirely. [Jun 2012, p.83]

Mesmerising. [May 2012, p.96]

In short, there's lo-fi, and then there's this album.

Acousmatic Sorcery won't propel Beal to Lana Del Rey levels of fame ... it's too weird, too spooky, too idiosyncratic for that. For those who do connect with Beal's gloriously skewed vision though, you're in for a treat.

This is a minimalist masterpiece.

There are moments worth latching on to but for the full effect, go stand in a club with him and watch him perform.

What comes through most clearly on the album is Beal's burning desire to be heard, however it was going to happen, and a confidence that his talent deserves it.

Despite (or maybe because of) his peculiar web of influences, Beal is a strikingly singular performer, synthesizing various muses into something deeply unique.

Despite a few missteps, Acousmatic Sorcery is still a unique debut announcing the emergence of a fresh talent worthy of the buzz Beal has been receiving.

At times it's testing, but there are flashes of phenomenal creative genius here that are destined to manifest further.

You'll either love it or hate it but, ignore the buzz, take it on it's own merits, and you might very well be rewarded.

Willis Earl Beal is a phenomenal vocalist, with a unique drawl and searing tone. Phenomenal in virtuosity, yet even more astounding with his delivery.

Beal's lyrics proves to be the major sticking point for an album that is quite successful. Most of these tracks follow the kind of topsy turvy logic of a Kaufman film.

What is present is that instant-click connection between artist and audience that only comes with the most naked of performances--Monotony is one such riveting recital, sketchy yet complete--and Beal's commitment to documenting the minutiae alongside the meaningful in comparable detail ensures that even-handedness permeates the entire set.

Out of its many blues like qualities the one that I see potentially defining the album as a whole is its rawness.