Here we have an album on which my feelings have changed the more I've thought about it: Gambler Hat's Alignment Failing. I don't necessarily mean this in an "acquired taste" sort of way, though it is indeed a challenging album that I have a more positive view of than when I initially heard it; it's simply an album that comes off as nearly impossible to have a clear idea of immediately following a single listen.
The opening track, "After the Black Hole," starts as a spacious, nocturnal-sounding waltz with muffled, reverb-soaked vocals. The whole affair feels less like I'm listening to it and more like I'm overhearing it, which is both fascinating and incredibly compelling emotionally. The second half is marked by the introduction of weak, distorted guitars that feel like embers struggling to stay alight, conveying an understated desperation or deep aching. As a whole, the song falls firmly under the category of "music that makes me want to make music," reminiscent of when I first started listening to electronic music yet still unfamiliar.
The following "Alignment Failing" shifts the overall feeling toward something more immediate and tangible, with a steady beat backing guitars that feel like something out of a spy movie. The vocals are much more present and clear, performed solidly but at times mixed too loudly or too dryly in ways that distract from the overall experience; this is a recurring issue, such as on "She Loves You (You Know She Does)," though its occurrence is far from a universal constant.
From there, most of the remaining tracks display permutations or hybridizations of the main stylistic directions established by the opening pair. "The Spiral," one of the high points of the album in my opinion, is centered around a thick synth atmosphere pierced by a clattering, plaintive guitar in a soundscape that feels like a prelude to something big (it wouldn't be out of place as a late area theme in an RPG). "Crashing It" follows a similar emotional palette, but this time is centered on atmospheric vocals fading around the mix while the guitar keeps a similar slow-burn timbre to the opening track.
Another moment that warrants special mention is "Mate Miller," which sounds like a burned-down, decayed Elvis Presley number. There's a pure audacity to the way the song sounds, especially among the other tracks on the album, that is startling and enthralling in equal measure. It's such a specific feeling to experience it in the context of the album as a whole that words can't really do it justice.
At the end of the day, Alignment Failing is certainly not for everyone, but those who do connect with it will be reached very deeply. It is an album with its share of issues, between the performance and production, but those problems are more than offset by a striking clarity of vision, emotional specificity, and artistic honesty that combine for something unlike anything I can remember hearing before.