Since the release of his debut album, Dawn, in 2016, the soft-sung introspection of RY X has exploded onto stages worldwide. Such a rise has even bagged the Australian singer-songwriter a remix of Rihanna’s ‘Love On The Brain’, as well as a performance at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony as part of the anti-nuclear art project, ‘The Bomb’. Needless to say, there has been huge expectations for RY X’s second album, Unfurl.

Here, RY X’s experimental vocabulary is developed with more beat-driven and sonically-enriched tracks, whilst the essence of his leisurely murmurs and floating falsettos are still brought out to full effect. The lead single, ‘Untold’, falling second in the track listing and providing the album’s first point of fixation, is paved with thrilling shrieks which are dragged above a malleable percussion line, stretched to the point that it springs. The greater focus on such rhythmic dexterity becomes more apparent as the album progresses, as the polyrhythmic binaries of guitar and piano chords against the straight drum beats unfold on ‘Coven’ and ‘The Water’.

Yet interweaving through these pulse-driven tracks rest ‘Body Sun’ and ‘Hounds’. Rescinding slightly more into darkness, the gentle and floating vocals subsume like a shadow that invites you into a hidden sphere, left with nothing but the dense and poetic intimacies of Ry’s utterances. Out of this umbra, though, arises a palette of strings, integrated aptly to create a fuller sound underneath the thick layers of vocals. Yet the addition of string instrumentals, ‘Body – Ambient’ and ‘Sun – Ambient’, strike as being detrimental to the overall coherence of the album. The former’s placement at the start of the album only seems to delay the initiation of the album in full body, whereas the latter brings its momentum to a standstill, earning little more than the sort of nod of acknowledgement which you might aim towards a forgettable acquaintance.

The apex of the album, however, arrives on ‘Foreign Tides’, with driving drum lines and a more assertive vocal delivery propelling the album forwards, just as one fears that Ry’s voice is on the verge of becoming languid. This rising force is carried further on ‘The Water’ and ‘To Know’, as syncopated piano chords gradually build into some of the album’s most evocative sections, as reverb-laden flourishes ripple above mellow dance beats.

Unfurl certainly contains Ry’s most experimental work to date, with bolder decisions in regards to soundscapes and drum beats being made. Such experimentation manages to carry a penetrable force throughout the album’s duration. Yet the result of other decisions, notably the lacklustre ambient instrumentals, create disappointing segues from track to track and ultimately leaves Unfurl with a diminished sense of structural cohesion.

[3/5 Stars]

Kieran Blyth