The pairing of Chemical Brother Tom Rowlands and Norwegian pop star Aurora sounds interesting but not, on paper, like the formula for something extraordinary. Tomora’s debut album kicks such presumptions to the kerbside. It feels like a project they both urgently need, a vital escape from their “day jobs” which they dive into with effervescent giddiness, whether embracing the android-ethereal or the thunderously bangin’.
The Chemical Brothers’ last two albums have showcased a unit who, three decades into their ravey career, are still alive to the possibilities of electronic music, to pushing sonic boundaries. One senses that Rowlands is the leader in this. In Aurora he’s found a singer ready to flail with similar abandon at her vocal capabilities, whether she’s revelling in glossolalic shriek-singing on the enormous 1990s-style techno explosion of “I Drink the Light” or giving vent to multi-tracked, Sinead O’Connor-esque heart-wrench, as on the slow-drone, spooked, cyber-folk of “Wavelengths” and “Side by Side”.
The enjoyably battering, shouty single “Ring the Alarm” gave warning of what lay ahead, but there’s so much else for the listener to wrap their ears around and be surprised by: “Have You Seen Me Dance Alone” recalls the electro-flamenco of Rocío Márquez & Bronquio but with more gypsy dubstep burlesque; “The Thing” combines the studio gnarl of Amon Tobin in Two Fingers mode with tribalism, Vangelis vibes and operatics; “Come Closer” offers a kosmische, spirit-elevating sci-fi hum-song before exploding into visceral robot noise and human howling.
The genius of Come Closer is that both participants push their input to the point that, when combined, everything should collapse in an unfocused mess. Instead, the duo teeter at the precipice, maintaining pinpoint excitement, nailing pop melodies, finding beauty and emotion amongst the enormousness and possibility of it all. They revel in this wild sound they’ve found. They have birthed a gorgeous monster.
Below: Watch the video for "Somewhere Else" by Tomora
