Knock Knock

He's arguably produced his near-masterpiece LP. [May 2018, p.114]

Knock Knock is full of surprises, and Koze is floating, in a meditative stance, watching over your shoulder as you revel in its resplendent glory.

The result is an eclectic mix of tempos and moods that maintain Kozalla’s sense of whimsy without sacrificing earnestness.

A record notable not only for its considerable length (16 tracks) but its sense of cohesion and staggering brilliance.

Koze’s superb imagination makes him able to mesh genres and styles that in the normal world shouldn’t work, but this is Koze’s world and we are just living in it--for now at least.

If Knock Knock is a more conventional album than the more psychedelic and twisted Amygdala, it’s also a more affecting one. The fact that some of the guests appear more than once (Murphy gets two turns, as does Sophia Kennedy, the vocalist who released her strong debut album on Pampa last year) lends cohesion, and the production is extra lush.

It probably wasn't hard for Koze to look beyond house, because it never completely won him over. Knock Knock makes a case for others to do it as well.

This is the kind of album you might find yourself less inclined to play all the way through than scroll through the tracklist and queue up songs at will, but there’s enough great music here that you could have a new favorite song every day.

The record isn’t immediately absurd, but rather keeps its composure and subtly turns convention on its head with a smile.

A set that's seamlessly transporting, front to back.

An absurdly emotional, innovative album.

This album continually bends and warps, jumps and starts, fully absorbing its antedecents and regurgitating a masterstroke of contemporary electronic music.

Solo productions add ballast to an already solid outing; Knock Knock deserves your response.

The magic of DJ Koze lies in the unique complex musical terroir he's built. [May 2018, p.93]

Knock Knock is a visionary blend of minimal techno and armchair psychedelia, jammed with canny features. [Jun 2018, p.117]

Favouring whirligig aimlessness, knock knock doesn’t repurpose electronic music like Amygdala; but in avoiding “things and sounds,” it never has aspirations otherwise. Pleasure both innocent and decadent is its prerogative.

It aims for the head more than it does the heart, and that's fine. It's an approach that makes it an easy album to appreciate, even if it is tremendously difficult to love.

When the album comes to a close--with pulsing bass and swirling vocal layers slowly fading out--it feels like the end of some strange Odyssean journey, one that you may want to embark on again before long.