One on One

It’s hard not to surmise that Mira Calix’s relatively low profile among her then exclusively male WARP counterparts is down to prejudice among electronica nerds of the time. Because this, her debut album, is the equal to anything the label put out in this period. In particular it matches Boards of Canada for weird, complex texture and Plaid for insidious melody, but it has a character completely of its own in the odd rhythmic metre and infinitely melancholic composition which pre-empts folktronica and hauntological sounds of the later 2000s. Sometimes it’s deeply harrowing (the closing “Slip Sliding”), sometimes it’s very beautiful indeed (the velvet piano motif of “Schmyk”), but it’s always endlessly listenable and re-listenable. Mira would go on to reach millions of ears via her sound art, but she deserved — deserves — to have her records heard more widely too.