Jazzy keys float in a Greg Foat interlude, their bell-like peal playing over clouds of sustain. Then the bass hits and sets the walls buzzing. Basic Channel rumblings underpining circular flute refrains. A 303 is twisted around punishing, almost military, drums. Melancholic Detroit strings pay homage to Rhythim Is Rhythim`s “Icon”. Heavenly synths dance with earthbound angels. A femme fatale is lost to shadow and hallucination. Insistent high hats and cymbal crashes charge a storm in Plez` forest, The Truth raining down celestial. Throughout “The Black Album” a 4 / 4 commands action while melody calls for calm. Understated, stripped back, and harder, more Techno-edged, than last year`s “Playing Without Moving” (there are no pianos here), the promo video appropriately captures a night drive thru Babylon (well, Berlin).