Midnight Juggernauts - Uncanny Valley

There’s little about Midnight Juggernauts that doesn’t ooze the aura of a spaced out cosmic stroll. ‘Uncanny Valley’ is exemplary of this. Presumably no accident, each song reverberates with a sedate out of this earth feel complete with twinkling synths, hushed vocals and universal echo. The album builds and flows well – sort of like an intergalactic journey – but the astronomical tinge grows tiring. The songs merge into one and there are few melodies strong enough or constructions varied enough to grab attention.

The first track to break the not-of-this-world comedown feeling is four in on ‘Streets of Babylon’, but this is only because the percussion is more club-orientated and gives listeners something to take hold of. The rest of the song drifts aimlessly, without gravity, like the rest of them. The songs are polished to the point where they all sound the same – effects and echo on vocals and synths remove the listener from the tracks creating a hazy filter over the music, which is a shame as they’d benefit from a stripped-back and raw approach.

Take ‘Master of Gold’. It begins as if it might break the mould with a delicate acoustic guitar intro, but then the same space synths are slathered over it, drowning the make up of the track. It’s endearing at first, but then it comes infuriating and grating. Sickly sweet.

Slick production and a consistency in sound may make for easy listening but if you pay too much attention it all starts to sound a bit contrived and cheesy. But so’s space, really. So, if you’re into that sort of thing, this’ll make a perfect dreamworld soundtrack for staring out into the hazy, light-polluted night sky. Otherwise, it’s a bit dry and lacks any real emotion.