Leon Vynehall – Rare, Forever review

Sometimes the line between artist and individual is easy to see; stardom and being famous are after all in an age of 24/7 exposure a performative way of life. Leon Vynehall however presents blurred lines; Rare, Forever as a title represents the idea that human beings are in a state of constant flux, a perception symbolised by the use of an ouroboros snake on the cover, one forever eating it’s own tail.

If this suggests output which is regurgitative however, then that impression is a false one. After his 2018 debut Nothing Is Still was met with so much critical goodwill there must’ve been a temptation to continue with it’s dynamic – echoes of long-dead raves, late night jazz, gorgeous textural ambience – but guided by an inner principle he can only describe as “Velvet” it’s follow up is even more willfully genre-shredding.

Placing it’s content relative to anything else is therefore a pointless exercise; Dumbo, Snakeskin ∞ Has-Been and Worm (closer and closer) posit rusty fragments of house and techno, as if the listener can see themselves dancing on some grainy footage captured on a landline. Meanhile, Vynehall has said that the mournful sounding drone Farewell! Magnus Gabbro is as close to revealing himself – or himself in that moment – as anything he’s ever released. Rare, Forever is another layer of skin being shed by an artist who it seems will never be in this same place ever again.

You can read the full review here.