Booka Shade
Movements

Oh old house, dressed in electro.

The most open opening there is, then a vaguely limping step. And gusts, at the nape of ragged movements of an oscillating timbre, of the minimal synthetic tide. Reminiscent (“Night Falls”)
Pulsating body language? Sprightly restyling of winning single: repeated and changing, small idea that has many (“Body Language”)
Still as if losing strokes to ignite flashes: mute dialogue in functional out-of-sync. (“Shimmer”)
Run and rhyme, teasing little thing pretending to be silly, pearlescent mocking smile, crackling light trick from an afterthought (“Paper Moon”)
And purplish spots for acidic shots: the time of a flash and the frame changes. Out of there, in a piano blue and humid apnea, floats an imitation of lady abandonment (“Beats And The Beats/At The Window”)
And it's immediately a sphere.
Dark.
Deserted dancefloor, nocturnal sequences and flashes of memories clustered (of another identity) in the mind of the cleaner, before or after the carnage (“Darko”)
Mischievous oriental postcard, hesitant holography, dry and floral, (“Hide And Seek In Geisha’S Garden”)
And rolls a multicolored spinning top in the eyes, swirling pulsation at the temples, drink to the subtle vertigo: dizzy but devised, perverted marimba (“Pong Pang”)
Insistent seduction, bounce and escape, micro-stumble, micro-ascent. Repeated insistence, layer upon layer and then stripped. Juice peel, broken apart and squeezed. Prestigiocus, because whole it is served (“Mandarine Girl–Album Version”)
Vocoder ticket office robot, for a circular journey with fractal vocation (“Take A Ride”)
Breath on lands of beats stuck in sidereal void, melodic déjà vu with a digital taste (“Wasting Time”)
Elementary, tiny clean endless box, single-seater capsule in rectilinear labyrinth (“In White Rooms”)
Twisted spiral with deep pulsation, doubtful temptation, mantric evocation, chorus that becomes wave (“Hallelujah USA”)
Carillion-like, immersed in dreamlike vapor, aquatic tunnel and stellar mantle, waves goodbye from afar as it vanishes (“Lost High”)

“Movements” (Get Physical 2006) today, here, sounded like this.
A pastiche, eclectic, not too unpredictable, by a duo who had already placed, after a debut album, two successful singles with “Body Language” and “Mandarine Girl”.
If you are frequent attendees and old hands in electronic galaxies with club temptations you know much more than I do. If instead you occasionally slip into it, you will probably appreciate the never redundant mastery of manipulated fragments, the slightly skewed architectures of the tracks, the mutable coherence of the flow. In short, it doesn't seem like an album built around two "hits."
I provide simple samples and a personal numerical rating: almost four.