Four Tet - New Energy (2LP)

Kieran Hebden has a knack for making electronic music feel human, and New Energy is one of those rare records that can hold a room at 3 a.m. then soundtrack breakfast a few hours later. Released 29 September 2017 on his own Text Records, it arrived after the longform meditations of Morning/Evening and the club-forward singles that had been anchoring his DJ sets. The title sounds like a manifesto, but the record plays like a carefully tended garden, small ideas allowed to bloom into something quietly luminous.

He opens with Alap, a fitting nod to the slow, free-time preludes of Hindustani classical music. It sets the tone, unhurried and spacious. Then Two Thousand and Seventeen slides in with that dulcimer or santur-like loop, a melody that feels both ancient and brand new. Critics fixated on this track for good reason. It is simple, almost austere, yet it carries the emotional pull of a folk song remembered from childhood. Hebden has long been a master of texture, and here the drum programming sits like soft footfalls under a rippling string figure that never wears out its welcome.

LA Trance stretches out with a patient build, all glowing pads and gauzy motion, then Planet snaps the focus back to the floor. Pinging bells, clipped bass, handclap punctuation, and that sense of buoyancy you hear in Four Tet’s most beloved singles, the ones that seem to levitate a crowd without shouting for attention. SW9 9SL, named for the postcode of O2 Academy Brixton, goes harder. It has the sinewy, peak-time energy of a set piece, yet you still hear his ear for detail, the way a hi-hat pattern shifts just so to open a new lane.

What makes New Energy stick is the balance. Hebden can still fold a breakbeat into a track like a chef folds in spice, but he resists blunt gestures. Lush earns its title with chords that glow at the edges, a soft-focus palette that recalls his early 2000s work without leaning on nostalgia. Scientists pushes into a brighter, almost pop cadence, proof that he understands melody as deeply as rhythm. Even the interludes feel purposeful. The sequencing flows like a well-planned DJ set that refuses to grandstand.

By 2017 he had a decade and a half of records behind him, and the reception matched the craft. The Guardian praised its warmth and restraint, Resident Advisor noted the clarity of his ideas, and Pitchfork highlighted the way it pulled strands from across his catalog into something newly coherent. It is not a victory lap, more a recalibration, a reminder that you can make dance music that breathes and glows without chasing trends.

A lot of listeners discovered these tunes in the wild. SW9 9SL turned up in big rooms, a wink to Brixton from a producer who knows London clubs intimately. Two Thousand and Seventeen crossed over to people who might not usually wade into instrumental electronic albums, shared across playlists and late-night conversations. Planet became one of those festival moments where you see strangers lift their faces to the lights at the same time. Yet the record also works in quiet spaces. Put it on at home and the air changes.

If you collect Four Tet vinyl, this one belongs in the stack. New Energy vinyl pressings tend to get snapped up whenever he tours, so it is worth grabbing when you see it. Anyone looking to buy Four Tet records online will find that his catalog is unusually consistent, but this LP offers a generous spread of the things he does best, from the featherlight ambient passages to the club-ready rollers. I have spotted copies tucked into staff-pick bins from New York to a Melbourne record store I wandered into on holiday, and it always felt right, a record for crate diggers and casual fans alike. If you hunt for vinyl records Australia shops stock, keep an eye out, because this album has a habit of disappearing and then reappearing like a friendly ghost.

Hebden once said in interviews that he builds tracks from small loops and bits of sound until they click, and you can hear that patience all over New Energy. It is generous music, interested in how people move and how they rest. Not many electronic albums from the last decade age this gracefully. Spin it next to his earlier work, or next to whatever modern club records you love, and it still hums with life. That title was no accident. New energy, same steady heart.