During a rocky comeback in 2023, Skrillex struggled to find a middle ground between his signature festival drops and new-gen emo rap across not one but two albums. So when the bass provocateur surprise-released F*CK U SKRILLEX YOU THINK UR ANDY WARHOL BUT UR NOT!! <3 two years later, the newfound ease in his mischief-making came as a relief. Released as a goodbye letter to his label of 15 years, Atlantic, F*CK U SKRILLEX was tight but freewheeling, charging from one bite-sized sample into another over the quake of rumbling wub. It was effortlessly funny and exceedingly fun, the sound of Skrillex finally hitting his stride. The Los Angeles producer’s latest album, SOMA, opens with many of the previous record’s strengths: He displays a masterful grasp of what makes a killer rhythm tick, and his experimental instincts have rarely sounded sharper. But his cruise control sometimes sounds like autopilot.
Released last week without warning, the new album reflects Skrillex’s increasingly global well of inspirations. A poster boy for the “when you cool with everybody” meme, he has in recent years made music with his pal RHR in São Paulo, booked studio time in Uganda with singeli producer Jay Mitta, and worked with Dominican rapper Tokischa on her latest dembow-pop album, AMOR & DROGA. SOMA spills over with brostep, techno, jungle, Latin EDM, and a lot of Brazilian funk; it frequently reads as Skrillex’s “come to Brazil” album. Much of it is fantastic—“Pente Rala” barrels forward with giddy tamborzão rhythms, and on “Thistle,” his track with Blawan and Randomer, he samples “Queen of the Flows” MC Dricka over rollicking Miami bass. “Tranki” nimbly binds gnarly low end with the robotic, bubbly rapping of mysterious AD 93 outfit Tracey, which he interweaves with the voices of Argentina’s TAICHU and ANITA B QUEEN—a mix of contrasting accents and intonations as dynamic as Skrillex’s cut-up beats. But on “É o Bonde,” a collaboration with UK main-stager Chris Lake, feverish Portuguese-language rap is all but drowned out by bland tech-house.
No score yet, be the first to add.
Skrillex frontloads the album with some spectacular drops, which is obviously what we’re here for. The opening track, produced with Nitepunk, is a slingshot right into his customary world of blood-bursting adrenaline. The roaring bassline slithers beneath a wavering flute note before the floor gives out, and the song begins its fast and furious descent. Somewhere between hard techno and brostep, “Smoke” tears up everything in sight, as a small but mighty chipmunk vocal snarls, “Bring smoke to the—,” before dodging the sound of a million bullets. The topsy-turvy momentum of this first chunk fades quietly into the misty-eyed IDM of “Cheeni,” which stands out like a rose blooming from concrete. The ethereal vocal loops of Indian singer Naisha recall early-’10s progressive house that was once made for hugging your wide-eyed friends under festival lights. It’s a perfectly engineered taste of bliss.
