Remix Artist Collective - Boy (2LP) - Pink/White Splatter Vinyl

RAC has long been the friendly face of indie pop’s remix boom, but André Allen Anjos is just as sharp when he’s steering the whole ship. BOY arrived in May 2020 on Counter Records and plays like a lucid daydream about growing up, leaving home, and finding your voice in new places. He’s said it’s his most personal work, and you can hear that in the way these songs feel both featherlight and quietly loaded, like a memory you’re still unpacking years later.

What jumps out first is RAC’s sense of colour. The palette is bright and aerodynamic, yet nothing ever blares. He still loves a tidy hook and a rubbery bassline, but the choices feel more reflective than on Strangers or EGO. There’s more air, more space for small textures to glow. Synths flicker like passing streetlights, guitars chime without crowding the frame, and the drums avoid bombast in favour of a steady, human pulse. It’s pop, yes, though pop built with the humility of a producer who has spent years making other artists sound like the best versions of themselves.

“Stuck On You” with Phil Good is classic RAC in its architecture, but it lands with a softer heart. Phil’s falsetto skims across a springy groove, and the chorus sneaks up rather than tackles you. It’s the kind of single that rewards repeat plays on a humid evening when the windows are cracked and the neighbours are doing dishes. Then there’s “Carefree” featuring LeyeT, which is exactly as weightless as the title promises. The vocal sits like a patient exhale while the synths glint and drift. RAC keeps the arrangement lean, so when a melodic counterline steps in, it feels like a friend joining the conversation rather than a party crasher.

That restraint carries through the tracklist. BOY is not chasing festival moments. It’s home listening pop that still snaps on headphones, the work of a producer who trusts the song over spectacle. His ear for detail is a treat if you listen close. A little percussive tick here, a ghostly harmony there, a bass run that only makes sense after the third chorus. He uses these gestures the way a film director uses light. Nothing showy, everything intent on mood.

The autobiographical tilt gives the record its spine. RAC was born in Portugal and later moved to the US, and you can feel that sense of distance and curiosity threaded through the writing. Even the way he sequences the album, with pockets of optimism followed by reflective pauses, hints at someone turning their memories over in their hands. It never gets heavy, though. He’s a generous storyteller, happy to let his guests share the spotlight and carry pieces of the narrative. That openness has long been part of the RAC story, from the early remix days to the Grammy win for his remix of Bob Moses’ “Tearing Me Up,” and it’s a big reason these songs feel like invitations, not monologues.

If you’re crate-digging for RAC vinyl and wondering where to start, BOY makes a convincing case. The mixes are clean but warm, and that translates beautifully when you spin it front to back. It’s the kind of record you can slip between synth-pop staples and modern indie in a weekend set, or put on in a quiet living room while you cook. No filler, just twelve little scenes that add up to something tender and lasting. I’ve seen it fly out of a Melbourne record store bin when someone needle-drops “Stuck On You” on a Saturday arvo, the room nodding in unison before the first chorus lands.

For anyone chasing BOY vinyl or looking to buy RAC records online, this album belongs in the pile alongside his earlier highlights. It also sits nicely next to other RAC albums on vinyl if you’re building a little corner of sunlit pop in your collection. And if you’re browsing for vinyl records Australia wide, keep an eye out. BOY has that rare balance of polish and heart, a record that makes even small moments feel cinematic without losing sight of the person in the frame. It sounds like the work of someone who knows how hard it is to leave home and how sweet it is to find a new one in a song.