Too many cuts are lost in the middle. [Jun 2018, p.115]

Little Red’s desire to tread new ground is admirable and, in principle, the idea of Katy going head-to-head with US r’n’b singers is great, but the quality is simply not as dynamic, hook-laden or convincing as the first five songs.

A richly listenable collection.

A texturally rugged selection with plenty of technical dexterity along the way maintains a bumping tempo--in turn, completing a solid trio of mixes themed around one of the Capital’s leading residencies.

"If in doubt, smile and dance" is the agenda.

It's not 100 per cent coherent, but especially if you get the bonus instrumental disc you'll find proof of an important talent spreading his wings.

If you’re a little refreshed and in the midst of a heartfelt festival singalong, things might sound different. But it’s hard to get caught up in some of the grandiose gestures on offer here.

At points it’s utterly lovely--you can’t beat the combination of strings and Tony Allen’s drumming--but at others it’s slightly silly.

An oddity, sure: but a fun one.

It drifts from merely being waftily pretty to really elegant to sublime and back with the greatest ease, which can be frustrating--but those sublime moments are enough to make you come back for more.

There are some moments of absolute beauty here but all too often the vocalists don’t bring the character of a Horace Andy or Tracey Thorn (or indeed 3D or Daddy G), and overall it all feels a bit slick.

It’s absolutely breathtaking in its audacity and intergalactic ambition, and even breathtakingly beautiful in places. But... it’s bloody tiring too.

The only trouble is, it all feels a little... dated.

This is a largely dejected and sombre affair that is perhaps only for those of a darker disposition.

Too often--as on ‘The Last Of Goodbyes’, with its limp rap and doleful Burialisms--it sounds like Moby pastiching his old self. On the flip side, ‘Welcome To Hard Times’, a sunny Balearic soul shuffle, is lovely, and the ghostly piano haunting ‘The Tired And The Hurt’ contains the muscle memory of his masterpiece ‘Porcelain’, but they’re isolated sparkles.

Weirder tracks such as ‘System 100’ break the routine a bit, but it’d be nice to hear Moiré’s huge production skill with more variation of tone.

Fun, if a little two-dimensional.

There's no distinct personality to be heard, or the kind of dynamic ideas that could give it the ability to totally dominate a room.

The results, all shimmering synths and echo effects noodle along on 4/4, often for the best part of seven minutes, and we can't help but feel that some of this has been done before.

Funchess' extraordinary voice will get much attention, but this is the full package.

Reminiscent of a clumsier kind of guitar-drums-bass (plus synths) arrangement, the only remnant of Hung’s Fuck Buttons days is the privileging of drums in the mix. The rest of this unexpected foray is a trip into a post-punk and synth-pop past that needs no repeating.

There are a few tracks (including the two straight-ahead rap tunes and haunting closer ‘Suicide Pact’) where he does actually let the groove unfold naturally, but that just makes even more frustratingly clear how much better the rest of this record could be if only Shadow would just ease off on the tinkering and fidgeting.