LA dude Afterhours has offered a mid-tempo comedown capsule with his Lowlife album (out through - you guessed it - Not Not Fun). It is a timeloop, reminding you of the cerebral highs and cushioning the head-crushing lows. Samples weave in and out of each other, melding together into a narcotic syrup, an amber treacle to trap the ride before it ends the way it probably should. After all, you put that in your body, right? Its an album that is easy to loop back in itself also - a neverending playlist of pharmaceutical solvents for your bruised synapses, caressing your shattered psyche, crooning to your gutted ego. Exultant in the soothing throes of sunrise before retiring into the cocoon of a blackened bedroom, Lowlife is likely to extend your life - at least for another night, anyway.
Lowlife is here.
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