Disclosure
Caracal

By their second album, the English siblings Guy and Howard Lawrence have already become quite self-assured, considering themselves ready to add a touch of artistry to the deep house fiercely revived with their previous album, Settle, a phenomenal success of 2013 that relaunched the careful work of revising past sounds updated for a new present. But the duo, known as Disclosure, stands out for a talent that borders on the antagonistic, and this Caracal makes things clear from the opening track, Nocturnal, a song that carries the tone of an edict for the direction of the album, shifting from typical electronic-house production with vocal additions to a full-fledged pop album. The atmosphere is set within the first minute, with a sound that evokes a large metropolis, lights, beautiful women, sophisticated drinks. Think about the prep music you put on while you’re picking out the right outfits and colors, and you’ve already got an idea. Compared to the previous album, the tempo slows down and expands for this shift from dance to contemplative hedonism. The groove and singing (with The Weeknd on vocals) are unmistakably black, almost conjuring up the silhouette of Michael Jackson, if only for a moment. The precise and crystal-clear production is worthy of seasoned producers when, in fact, we're talking about two twenty-somethings with relative experience in the industry, truly incredible.

The list of collaborations is stellar, simply because, as mentioned, the previous album was a triumph, and everyone wants to sing for the Lawrence brothers. It's no surprise then to find Sam Smith perfectly suited in Omen, the same singer who shortly after (we are in 2015) would snag an Oscar for his song written for the soundtrack of the movie Spectre, but that’s another story. The coordinates of Caracal change little or nothing, Holding On takes us down the stairs to the lower levels of the club, where a garage track sung and polished by jazz artist Gregory Porter is danced to. It's all really beautiful and perfectly clean, and not coincidentally, we're also talking about the single. The lineup of vocalists is impressively long, and as usual, the most promising figures from the indie market are present. Lorde is splendid and sexy in Magnets, opened with a hyper-slowed tribal rhythm and warped synths dragged to the brink of absurdity. The influence of the sound design from the previous album is quite noticeable, but as mentioned, the new territory to explore is that of pop, as demonstrated by the solid refrain. Heavy rubbing and high-quality drinks also in Superego, sung by Nao, a black schema as black as can be, while in Jaded, one of the brothers even takes the microphone, with excellent results.

The journey concludes with Masterpiece, a song with a very modest title that seems to go back even two decades, making it hard to discern the outlines of a modern production. The Deluxe version adds three more tracks: Molecules, Moving Mountains, and Afterthought. Caracal marks the duo’s foray into the realm of black pop music, with soulful and funky overtones but without forgetting the tight connection to revisited deep house and DJ and electronic origins. It's a seductive cocktail, a very sophisticated sound full of personality, which might concern those who see the signs of a mainstream sell-out, but the album, after the initial disorientation, is indeed less danceable but undoubtedly more mature, clear, and focused than the previous one, and it is a pleasure to listen to. The only criticism is that there is a lack of strong ideas in this runway-style celebration, and perhaps also a bit of fun, the danger of taking oneself too seriously is always lurking in these cases, especially for two very young individuals recording with the mentality of someone twice their age. But the talent is there, and I'm curious to see the next step of this promising Disclosure project.