Vanish is Julia Reidy’s yearning, fat debut for Editions Mego. Since 2019, Julia’s bubbling 12-string guitar work - sighing streams of crystal plucks drawn closer or echoing on - has moored a tactile, ever-lusher sound. On ‘Guitar’, the Australian, Berlin-based musician melts down sharp synths; electric fuzz and flex; uncanny found sounds; and autotuned voice and harmonica in a heady, overpowering potion.
Reidy’s music sweeps you up. It’s restless, always travelling on. Lonesome tones into machine chorales into hesitant hum. The LP’s side-long cuts sway between scenes but are always rooted: Julia’s guitar and vocal lines seem mapped to the natural ebb and flow of breath and thought, they lull you as they push through vast and secret spaces.
Vanish completes a trio of releases begun with last year’s ‘brace, brace’ (Slip) and ‘In Real Life’ (Black Truffle). The delicious unease, the anxious burning of the preceding volumes has settled, becoming more wide-eyed and resolute. For all its poise, the album’s sense of build - electric licks rasping into glistening synths, punctured by distant kicks - feels freshest. When 'Oh Boy'’s smudged whistle comes, it has fought its way out of the thickets, and hits like heartbreak.