Brooklyn resident Matthew Young, aka Seafloor, conducts his Infinite Machine debut with submerged savvy, as per his namesake. Though somewhat indebted to the likes of Machinedrum/Sepalcure, Sibian & Faun, etc. (in terms of blending jungle and post-juke into backdrops for lyrical, melodious affairs), Seafloor's sound is distinctly less aloof, and more wistful and playful. There are certainly no punches being pulled in terms of production, with heavy sub-bass, frenetic rolling breaks and lush, soulful vocal cuts as the bread and butter of his songwriting; Matthew, however, additionally conjures up a overtly magical (read: fantasy) quality infrequently heard in electronic music (only the work of Druid Cloak and some choice Liar jams jump to mind).
"Heart Thief" is an escalating, saccadic roller, marked by a sense of urgency and seasoned with teaspoons of acid here and there – tension unrelentingly builds up (toying with you via early, brief introduction of climax elements followed by abrupt return to the junglist frenzy). The melodic release is soothing, reminiscent of glory-days IDM, yet subverting that via the incredibly poignant vocals, appropriately chanting "you took my heartbeat from me". Repeat.
"I Won't Love You"'s clap-happy beat, house vibes, and airy, nasal, unearthly vocal treatment create an equally futuristic and suncaked soundscape, broken up by corpolent pads and funk-smeared tambs.
"Krakatoa" employs reedy bass, cuicas and expert manipulation of the "Think" break into crafting a dreamy, hurried contemplation on faraway rave and grime. The main bassline hook is weirdly inquisitive, inducing shoulder-shrugging and daft smiles, while shaky pads provide snow-capped emotional contrast.