In an age of potential endless editing the infinite weight of possible permutations often break an album’s spine. BEAK>’s first record, like its sister record, Portishead’s Third, felt born from the earth, a long lost Amon Düül cassette picked up at a Munich carpark. Album number two does not break from the jamming orthodoxy, but offers a more spacy, more Tangerine twist. There is magic in this.
