I feel like I should love this; it's DjRum, which alone makes it a product of uncompromising ingenuity and creative inventiveness. But realistically, Seven Lies fails to fully capitalize not only on the (justified) hype surrounding Felix Manuel, but also on that delicate "post Burial" atmosphere that Manuel has so eagerly made his own. That gritty "noir-ish" fog that's slung itself so vividly over the London skyline is almost entirely absent here - as if long form has robbed DjRum of his almost shaman-like powers. By no means the greatest thing since sliced bread, but a tasty loaf nonetheless
1 Bumps | Bump |
