Feel It Break

Stelmanis brings a more musical sensibility to the formula, even if it's still miles away from mainstream pop.

In the end, then, it's as if Austra are old hands; Feel It Break could be them overcoming difficult second album syndrome with aplomb. Goodness only knows where they can go from here; such peaks represented the end of the road for The Organ.

As a debut and a fleshing out of Stelmanis' previous eponymous work, Feel It Break is a solid place to build from and a reason to expect good things from Austra in the future.

On this consistently hypnotic debut, Austra carve out a place of their own among their contemporaries.

With the cool-o-meter currently set at all things synthy and coldwave-y, Austra look set for big things.

What ultimately makes Feel it Break such a pleasure to explore is their inclination to consciously move away from making this a record that only works as a showcase for a distinctive singer.

Stelmanis, bassist Dorian Wolf and drummer Maya Postepski have created something that plays as a carefully balanced, organic whole, like an inadvertent concept album. That's more a testament to the skill with which it's been put together than because it lacks standout moments; in fact, half the songs here could be released as singles, as Austra are as melodic as they are melodramatic.

it might be the best introspective rave album of the year, which is certainly saying something.

Nevertheless, one wouldn't call Feel It Break straightforward: Stelmanis is mannered enough to keep listeners on their toes, without tipping over into being irritating, adding a dash of spice to a record capable of intriguing both art and pop crowds.

Somewhat Gothic, but for all its dark corners, this debut gleams with a pop lustre. [Jun 2011, p.77]

It's unlikely that the album will be a big hit, but the best songs will grow to have a life outside of Feel It Break, on dancefloors and party playlists, which I'm sure is something Stelmanis would approve of.

While it would have been easy for Feel It Break to fall into new wave hero worship, it succeeds thanks to the singularity of Stelmanis' vision. Feel It Break announces her as a force to be reckoned with.

Austra is best when all three influences expertly converge or when none of them bother showing at all.

Upon first listen, Austra's debut album Feel It Break comes off like a cross between The Knife and a gothier version of Florence and The Machine.

On Feel It Break, they've got that creeping cinematic synth-psych style down cold. Moving forward, I'm curious to hear what else they can do.

As the album thumps on, though, listeners who prefer dynamics over beat matching will lose patience.

The odd misfire aside, Feel It Break is self-assured and utterly consuming. At this rate, she'll be leading the pack soon.

her band's seedy synth pop more often recalls Kate Bush's dramatic art songs and the Knife's ghostly techno-pop (and more specifically, the soured vowels of frontwoman Karin Andersson).

All in all, Feel It Break as a whole is a little uneven because Austra still seems to be looking to strike the right balance between its different parts.

Feel It Break feels a bit front-loaded: its second half sags a bit with more ballad-oriented material, but closes on a strong note with "The Beast."

Stelmanis is her own woman and on Lose It and Spellwork there's enough regal clatter to elevate her from being a mere cult concern. [Jun 2011, p.107]

Students of the 19080s Brit synth-pop and Gallic cold wave will find Austra a contemporary champion. [Jun 2011, p.97]