Terence etc. - Vortex (2LP)

Terence Nance has always worked like a quiet magpie, gathering images, ideas, and feelings, then stitching them into something that moves in its own logic. As Terence Etc., he brings that sensibility to a debut long player that feels both handmade and cosmic. V O R T E X arrived in 2022 on Brainfeeder, the independent label founded by Flying Lotus that’s long been a home for genre-fluid tinkers and dreamers. It suits him. The record sounds like the inside of a sketchbook, but a sketchbook that hums with groove and patient intention.

You can hear the filmmaker’s instinct for pacing in the sequencing. Pieces slip into one another, vocals float in and out like characters walking through a scene, and the whole thing carries a narrative arc without shouting that it’s telling a story. The production leans warm and intimate. Guitars purr rather than bite, synths flicker at the edges, and the rhythm section plays with that slight human wobble you only get when people are in a room together. Nance sings in a soft, pliable voice, often stacked into choral clusters that feel devotional. Not churchy in a strict sense, though there is gospel in the bones. More like a study in how the human voice can hold tenderness and doubt in the same phrase.

If you came to him through HBO’s Random Acts of Flyness, you’ll recognise the same blend of curiosity and critique. The songs circle romance, memory, and Black creativity as lived practice. It never settles into a single style for long. One moment it’s featherlight soul, the next it tilts into jazz phrasing, then breaks open into something closer to experimental R&B. That movement is part of the pleasure. The grooves are understated, but they tug at you. I kept finding my foot tapping without noticing.

Brainfeeder releases often reward close listening, and V O R T E X is no exception. Headphones reveal tape textures, breath at the mic, the squeak of fingers on strings. On a decent system, the low end is a cushion, not a thud, which makes the record a lovely candidate for the format fetishists among us. The Terence Etc. vinyl pressing brings out the air in those layered harmonies and the wood in the drums. Spin it late at night and the room changes temperature. It also helps that the album flows as a whole piece. You can drop the needle anywhere and find a pocket, but letting a side play straight through is where it really blooms.

There’s a community feel to the playing, even when the arrangements are sparse. You sense friends in the studio, passing ideas back and forth, laughter between takes. It’s easy to imagine these tunes being workshopped on small stages around New York and Los Angeles, the kind of nights where you look up from your drink because something quietly beautiful just happened. Nance has been known for collaborations across film, visual art and music, and that cross-pollination shows up here as confidence with space. He knows when to leave a line hanging, trusting the listener to lean in.

As a debut, it’s strikingly self-possessed. Plenty of first records try to prove range by piling on. V O R T E X shows range by restraint. It has that Brainfeeder DNA in its willingness to sit between lanes, yet it never feels like a label exercise. It’s personal, candid, and a touch mischievous. The love songs are reflective rather than sugary. Even the interludes feel earned, little breaths that make the whole more human.

If you collect modern soul with a crooked edge, put this high on your list. Vortex vinyl tends to disappear from shelves, so if your local Melbourne record store has a copy, don’t overthink it. And if you need to buy Terence Etc. records online, there are still reputable shops shipping across the country, which is good news for anyone bolstering a shelf of vinyl records Australia wide. For those building a broader shelf, Terence Etc. albums on vinyl sit neatly alongside Thundercat, Moses Sumney, and Solange’s more exploratory corners, but still occupy their own little weather system.

More than anything, V O R T E X plays like an artist letting his many practices talk to each other without hurry. No grandstanding, no panic to fit a trend. Just a patient, generous record that keeps yielding small, satisfying discoveries each time you return. If you’re curious about Terence Etc. vinyl, this is the one to start with, and the one you’ll end up recommending to friends who think they have Brainfeeder mapped out.