What So Not - Anomaly (LP)

What So Not’s second full-length, Anomaly, arrived on September 16, 2022, and it feels like the moment Chris Emerson finally threads every strand of his career into one vivid frame. He started this project over a decade ago as a duo, then carried it solo through festival-smashing singles and a confident 2018 debut. Anomaly is leaner and more personal, still heavy when it needs to be, but more interested in tension, negative space, and oddball chemistry than brute force.

That chemistry hits early with Mr Regular, a strange and addictive collab that throws Oliver Tree and Killer Mike into Emerson’s jagged mid tempo world. Tree’s hook is bratty and sticky, and Mike drops in with a verse that cuts through the metallic churn like a hot knife. It is the kind of team up that looks chaotic on paper, yet the production keeps it grounded, lots of rubbery bass and clipped percussion, the kick slamming without crowding the vocal. You can hear Emerson’s hand in the details, how he tucks small synth yelps around the phrases, how he opens the ceiling in the last chorus so it hits harder without getting louder.

The Change is the emotional core, with DMA’s bringing a rush of guitar sparkle and that aching, arms-around-your-mates chorus that Aussie fans know by heart. It has the pull of a classic big room tune, but it lives on breakbeats and air, not just a four on the floor thump. There is a classic What So Not trick in there, the drop swerves when you think it will charge, then snaps back with a bass line that grins at you. It works in headphones, it works in a car at dusk, and it absolutely works when you need to remember why dance music and indie rock have flirted for as long as they have.

As One, with Herizen, pushes the album into late night drama. Herizen floats over a skeletal intro, then the drums arrive in half time, all glass and velvet, the sub humming beneath like a distant engine. Emerson has always loved to make a room feel bigger than it is, he gives the vocal this flaring halo, then cuts the lights for a bar so the drop tumbles in. There is a cinematic quality to how he sequences these songs too, little connective textures that give the record a through line. It feels curated, not tossed together, and that matters for an album in a genre that often celebrates singles.

What sticks most is the sense of play. Anomaly is full of sharp left turns that feel earned. The sound design is precise, shiny in spots, scuffed in others, always serving the hook. You get rasping leads that bend like sheet metal, feathery pads that recall the woozier side of his early work, and percussion that swings just enough to feel human. He still knows how to blow the doors off, but he picks his moments. The peaks hit harder because the valleys have character.

If you collect What So Not vinyl, this one is a keeper. The low end is sculpted, not bloated, and the quiet passages breathe in a way that flat digital streams sometimes flatten. I have spotted copies of Anomaly vinyl here and there, and it is the sort of record you grab when you see it, because it turns an ordinary living room into a little club for forty minutes. If you like to buy What So Not records online, keep an eye out at your usual haunts, and if you are crate digging through vinyl records Australia style, the kind of Melbourne record store that files electronic and indie side by side is where you are likely to find it. It also slots nicely next to other What So Not albums on vinyl, a neat snapshot of where Australian dance music landed in the early 2020s.

Anomaly is not trying to relive past highs, it is trying to widen the lens. Big guests show up, but they serve the mood of the album rather than the other way around. The writing is tighter, the drops feel smarter, and the whole thing moves with the momentum of a proper night out, turns and all. If you have followed Emerson since those early singles, this is the satisfying next chapter. If you are new, it is a crisp introduction to a producer who can do maximal and minimal, heart on sleeve and tongue in cheek, sometimes all in the same track.