Babelsberg

Rhys' words may be filled with dread but his music offers solace in its deftly executed songcraft and reassuring soft focus, which means Babelsberg can soothe the very emotions it stirs up.

The further you get into the album, the more you realise how integral the orchestral arrangements are.

It’s a record in its creator’s image; curious, insightful, eclectic and - most of all--good fun, against the odds.

It’s a heart that’s filled to bursting on Babelsberg: you can’t really imagine a better soundtrack for the end of the world.

Rhys trades some of his characteristic quirkiness, colorfulness, and experimentation for classier and more unified slices of orchestral pop. In doing so, he offers a wise and mature sequence whose refined yet complex splendor allows it to achieve its own identity while also offering enough trademark elements to entice fans of his past triumphs.

The lens of amusement and sympathy through which Rhys views the turning world around him brings new life to the lineage he draws and draws from.

Babelsberg is, without doubt, one of the finest expressions so far of Rhys's talent. [Jul 2018, p.90]

Even if there's a sense of darkness descending, in his best solo album yet, Gruff Rhys paints with bright and uplifting colours. [Jul 2018, p.109]

Babelsberg is ultimately a sorely-needed tonic. Mellow-sounding, but hefting weighty humanitarian concerns on its back, it boasts a you-are-here focus normally only accorded to those who are about to peg it.

The result is a rich, nuanced pop album that feels like something French from the late ’60s.

For all its lavish instrumentation and weighty subtext, however, Babelsberg never overwhelms Rhys’ preternatural gift for writing swoon-worthy melodies.

Whether or not it's a world that one would choose, Rhys gives it a better soundtrack than it probably deserves.

Babelsberg's ten songs comprise a confident, fully realized soundtrack to a quasi-fictional dystopia.