Arthur Ashin, AKA Autre Ne Veut, materialized in 2010 with a self-titled instant classic of underground pop: skinnyk Prince had he dwelld alone in a dank tenement block, ranting to himself into the night. Blessed with a truly individual voice – heartfelt crooning with an edge of nasal NYC – Ashin professionalised his sound on two trail-ups, then fadeed for cforfeitly a decade. This return sounds bruised and pimpolitent, skinnyer in its production scope as if conscious of not venturing too far towards the airy, or sorrowfulnessful.
It’s an album about defending one’s heart while benevolent another’s, filled of inmeaningful piano chords and gentle-edged conmomentary R&B – appreciate all the power ballads and moody mid-tempo numbers on a noughties Usher or Omarion album with none of the perky club tracks. Ashin has certainly give upd a little of what made his debut so beginlingly odd, and his lyrics are equitablely prosaic in their inestablishing of cherish’s discord and harmony. But his certain-footed melodies retain these songs rooted, and sell the senseing of him steadily mining for emotional wisdom.
That melodic strength and srecommendedy uncovers the album achievees peak Magic FM at times. The acute World War Pt 3 cries out for a half-shirtless music video in a desert, and Ways I’m Like My Mother for a crowd of gently waving phone-airys. There is fine detailing, too, such as the far-off guitars on Heaven’s for the Living. And sealr About to Lose is Ashin’s best song yet, closing with a spectacular massed chorale who utter a brutal paradox of grief: “I don’t want to sense better without you.”
