Die in New York lebende Gitarristin und Producerin Rachika Nayar bringt Ende August ihr nächstes Studioalbum “Heaven Come Crashing” heraus, dessen gleichnamige Single-Auskopplung mit Vocals von Maria BC und Samples von Rafael Anton Irisarri bereits digital erhältlich ist, auch als Video unter den Regie von Will Hart. Einmal mehr beweist die seit ihrem letztjährigen Debüt gefeierte Künstlerin ihr Können als “master of lush guitar manipulation” (Bandcamp Daily) und erweitert ihr bekanntes Repertoire in gut dosierten Abzweigungen in verschiedene, oft tanzbare Richtungen. “Heaven Come Crashing” ist auch eine Auseinandersetzung mit satark emotionalen Zuständen, wobei die Künstlerin bewusst die Grenze zum Melodramatischen zieht: “I both love and feel so wary of melodrama, because its entire premise is to be uncritical. Taking your most massive emotions at face-value feels so fraught when they partly originate with structures you can’t control, with structures you maybe even feel at war with.” Das Album erscheint auf Vinyl und digital bei NNA Tapes.
“Heaven Come Crashing finds the protean guitarist and electronic producer expanding on the ghostly netherworlds of her acclaimed debut, Our Hands Against The Dusk, and the intimate guitar miniatures of companion EP, fragments, with vivid, fluorescent, cinematic maximalism. [...] The title track offers a glimpse of Nayar’s sharp left-turn on the album towards explosive electronic, as she melds her signature granular guitar contortions with haunting vocals from ambient pop artist maria bc and a sampled synth from Rafael Anton Irissari — the result is an atmospheric fantasia evoking reverence-filled arenas, a slow build to kinetic breakbeats that crescendo with wild abandon. Heaven Come Crashing retains Nayar’s mangled guitar stylings but expands the color palette by looking not so much to the fretboard, as to the dance floor and the silver screen. Influences enter into the frame ranging from ’90s trance, to early M83, to Yoko Kanno anime soundtracks. With its M1 piano stabs, supersaws, and glimpses of Amen breaks, the album charts a luminescent space between 5 a.m. warehouse raves and the urban freeways of its cover image—romantic, nocturnal, and reckless in its velocity and emotional abandon. [...] Within this conflicted relationship to its own theatrics, the album wages a battle between surrendering to desire and incinerating it. Heaven Come Crashing invites the listener to revel within fantasy, before helping light the match to burn it down—one final embrace in the dream world before it shatters to pieces. (NNA Tapes)