Like Pavlov’s dogs, the listening public has been trained to respond to piano ballads as the sine qua non of heartfelt authenticity. Machines, though, can be kaleidoscopic conveyors of emotion. Witness Bj?rk’s Vulnicura, an analogue/digital hybrid of untrammelled pain, or the proliferation of suffering digital dudes, best exemplified by Kanye’s 808s and Heartbreak and much James Blake. Enter Dirty Projectors, longtime dwellers on the cusp where twitchy hipster modishness and post-classical composition meet at R&B. A couple of years ago, main man David Longstreth (extracurricular credits: David Byrne, Solange, Joanna Newsom, Bombino, Kanye) and his erstwhile Dirty Projectors foil, Amber Coffman, broke up. The fallout cascades spectacularly all over this record, both in words – many of them pained and harsh – and as digital shrapnel. These nine tunes come strafed with audacious noises (squeaky toys, found sound) and elegant playfulness (witness Work Together’s sour Middle Eastern fantasia). There is dissonance, yes, but Longstreth is far too ninja-level to merely turn his guitar amps up into a sulk of post-breakup feedback. Instead, Dirty Projectors takes the breakup album – as sonically redefined by Beyonc? – and runs with it.
