Crush sees Sam Shepherd wring awful, liquid humanity out of his machines. The beauty of Floating Points' ambient electronics clashes violently with the suffering of his tools becoming conscious; there's writhing anxiety through Anasickmodular, a nastiness and jealousy in Bias, and a knife-sharp hyperfocus on LesAlpx. I love the way these sounds wrestle with eachother, coughing and tensing and barking and crying and chirping, deep in the disease of ill-gotten life. Floating Points orchestrates metamorphosis on this record, as many contemporaries do, but the difference is his music not only works in the club but dominates it. As some have pointed out it loses some steam in the back half, save for an oasis of hope provided by Birth, the best of the record's neoclassical synth arrangements. Hoping for a CD release of the incredible Printworks show that supported the release of this album.