Myth and vocoders, modernist theatre and conversational wit, soundscaping and pop: this is the moment that all the elements of Holter’s talent coalesced into something singular, pure and perfect. The Milwaukee-via-LA auteur had already demonstrated the breadth of her ambition on a variety of CDRs and live recordings, but this album — three years in the making — applied discipline and technology to truly realise it. The shine and totality of her sounds and (self-)production sound as expensive as, say, Fleetwood Mac, Paul Simon, Isaac Hayes or 10cc, but while there are wisps of nostalgia floating through the song structures — not to mention Holter’s habitual references to Greek myth — it’s entirely 21st century, entirely sci fi as well. There’s film noir, there’s Twin Peaks, there’s Edward Hopper atmospherics, there’s grand sweep and the most fragile of intimacy. The greatest artists are those who build entire worlds that you can only choose to enter fully or not, and with Ekstasis Holter proved herself to be more than capable of that.