Clay is another chapter in UK musician, producer, and DJ Matthew Herbert’s unique, expansive, experimental catalogue, this time collaborating with drummer, producer, songwriter, and vocalist Momoko Gill, resulting in an album of gentle, soothing, tender and often simply beautiful songs that hint at dub, folk, jazz and DJ/dancefloor genres too. 

Much of Herbert’s music has been about texture and timbre, coaxing melodies, harmonies, and rhythms from unlikely sources, his productions defined by a creative agility resulting in levels of sonic freshness and originality that most electronic/dance music producers struggle to reach — and it’s the same here. Songs are built from bubble sounds, softly undefined synth chords, plucks and chimes with questionable provenance, hard-to-place angular percussion, with Gill’s drums carefully entering the sound field and providing either subtle drive or rhythmic fire when required.  It’s dance music adjacent with reduced 4/4 beats pulsing gently on some tracks, but much of it is sparse and still, deftly moving from the most skeletal arrangements to rich, effusive, casually gorgeous soundscapes. Clay feels like a patient album, taking its time, holding back its understated but exquisite musical hooks, and drip-feeding the melodic bliss in a most economical fashion. Equally, it’s deserving of some time and patience; many of its subtle charms are instantly striking but many more are lurking unassumingly, waiting to be activated by a few lonely listens on solitary drizzly train journeys.