R.M. Hendrix crafts a consuming atmospheric prowess throughout YUKS, whose production is often dark and unsettling — though beautifully so. These productions succeed from the more radiant art-pop yearnings of “What Do Boys Become?” to the trip-hop hypnotics within “A Heat Surrounds the Hive,” in addition to tracks that embrace steadily unraveling drones and inventive sample infusions. Icelandic producer Valgeir Sigurðsson co-produced four of the album tracks, and also handled mixing and mastering.
“I wanted an album that was equally lyrical and instrumental, melodic and chaotic,” R.M. Hendrix explains. “The tracks progress through crumbling psychological landscapes.” YUKS thematically plays as a follow-up to 2020 album War is On Its Way. Since that release, Hendrix has moved to Iceland. “When I was working on ‘War…’ it came from a claustrophobic headspace trapped in the middle of a mess,” he says. “Moving to Iceland gave me a clearer view of what was happening in America, and YUKS reflects this in the music and lyrics.”
A whirring swell of sound emanates on the opening “The Yellow Dwarf Sleeps but the Judge Never Does.” A bass-laden warmness complements the second half, furthering a feeling of nocturnal unease that sets the album into intriguing motion. “A Heat Surrounds the Hive” follows seamlessly, following the opener’s buzzing intensity with a contrasting piano-set elegance that grows into a trip-hop rhythmic spell. A spacey, lonesome character persists alongside as weepy synths and drip-drop effects linger artfully, into a foreboding vocal presence that refers to a “fever behind your eyes.” The mid-point is especially haunting, as ghostly wordless vocals send chills into the final sequence; the album quickly showcases its strong atmospheric grasp in its opening one-two punch, between the opener’s ambient darkness and the delectably ominous art-pop of “A Heat Surrounds the Hive.”
“Thing Fellow” also stirs in its variety between bursting synth expanses and eerie subduedness. A shifty effect glides into a string-like resonance, as submerged vocals follow. A grimy, drum-and-bass envelopment emerges with tactful precision past the first minute, then intertwining the sweeping synth elements with seamless cohesion. A solemn, lush conclusion bolsters the already-impressive tonal range, continued with more fragmented intensity within “Moderate Rain Warning.” Throbbing synths traverse into blaring horns, as a mysterious vocal sample plays underneath. The brass elements thoroughly captivate, fading as the more rhythmic “Murder of Crows” comes into view. Dreamy vocals, continued brass, and drum samples combine with a sense of late-night charm.
YUKS never lets up in its creative atmospheric directions. “Sniper, Cert.” is inventive in its audio samples — drawing from sounds of gunshots within sporadic percussion and ethereal backing vocal infusions. R.M. Hendrix previously caught our ears with the track “Drugs” and its critiques on the profit-gouging medical industry, and “Sniper, Cert.” feels similarly poignant in its utilization of arms/military-related sampling. “The Cult that Eats the World” ensues, bringing listeners back to a more drone-friendly engrossment. “You don’t know who I am,” the quivering vocals let out, building into a wonderfully unsettling second half with anxious strings and crackling electronics.
The release finishes impactfully with “I Scratched My Blood” and “Will the Sun Rise?” — both embracing the more spacious spectrums. “No one can rebuild but me,” lyrics of vulnerability unveil on the former. Second-half moody guitar additions complement forlorn orchestral components with satiating allure. “Will the Sun Rise?” is a gripping finale, building patiently through a fog of ambient synths that fluctuate in intensity, before a rain-like gentleness washes away the pain. Full of innovative soundscapes and compelling structural expanses, YUKS is an enthralling overall listening experience from R.M. Hendrix.
