![]() ![]() I can, however, try and make good an album that wants to make good but in the final estimation can’t: this failure is one of the albums strengths. ![]() I can’t promise a thesis or intimation of such I can’t even really promise a suggestion of how to tackle it. Which is to say this is a difficult, dense album. It’s a good thing the album is so damn good or I’d have given up in frustration. I feel constantly alert listening to this in a way I do very few albums, trying to untangle the noise and reach something concrete but, as in a dream where the closer you get to something the more it recedes from view and grasp, or where a hand connects with another only for the other to dissipate in a puff of smoke, that connection of ideas, bodies, proves elusive. With each locked door finally opened comes another room, another puzzle or riddle, another irreconcilable enigma. Experiencing Safe in the Hands of Love is akin to finding ourselves in a spy or mystery novel. Yves Tumor isn’t one for giving clues, let alone maps, to demystify his complex lattices and intersecting reticulations, but there are a couple. ![]() Review Summary: Yves Tumor will absolve you - but only if you offer yourself for condemnation first ![]()
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