With his 2016 debut,
Mutate Repeat Infinity
, Toronto-based experimental pop musician
Scott Hardware
took inspiration from time he'd spent living in Berlin, bending the influence of the city's techno culture and all-night energy around his softly crooned ambient songwriting. The album was intimate and hazy, not quite appropriating Berlin techno sound as much as borrowing elements from it to support
Hardware
's dreamlike songs of growth and pain. With sophomore album
Engel
,
again turns to Berlin for roundabout inspiration, but in a much different way and with far dreamier results. Upon returning to his hometown of Toronto from Berlin,
watched
Wim Wenders
' darkly romantic 1987 film Wings of Desire and became obsessed. The film (which takes place in Berlin before the falling of the Berlin Wall) fired
's imagination, and
mirrors its bleak yet beautiful tones. Instead of the club-inspired beats and house piano chords of
's sonic palette is lush and expansive. An ambient intro sets the pace with drifting washes of detuned synth, clumsy electronic bursts, and field recordings of softly spoken conversation. When
gets into more traditional songcraft on "Millionaire," his gliding falsetto harmonies and chime-like guitars combine for a rich cinematic atmosphere. "Blu Again" brings the vocals into sharper focus, intermittently moving between breathy verses with acoustic guitar and glitchy electronics and parts with ambling drums and reverb-coated textures. The song lands in an angelic territory that recalls both
Atlas Sound
's distanced melodies and
Talk Talk
's pastoral pop. Live drums and flute samples give "Joy" a dynamic push, and
's vocals are more prominent against a romantic and restless background. For all its floating qualities, the entire album is highly controlled. The moments of scattered electronic chaos are woven into delicate organic arrangements with intention. The two drawn-out songs that close the album, "Bound Together" and "Survivor's Guilt," drive home the album's cinematic construction. Waves of electronic noise rise and fall as
's vocals alternate between soft melancholic wails and sung-talked monologues. There's almost the same quality as an offscreen voice narrating at times, guiding listeners through the album's arc. When it's over,
feels like waking up from a sad but beautiful dream. It's an immersive album-length atmosphere that's easy to get lost in, lending itself well to silent introspection and spaced-out moods. ~ Fred Thomas