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If the last album ('Glowing Mouth') from Brooklyn brooders Milagres was an essay on human frailty, composed in a haze of vicodin from a hospital bed after a climbing accident left lead vocalist Kyle Wilson incapacitated for months, the follow-up is about living life - a brave, bold fuck-you to mortality that seeps sex from its pores and dazzles in its gossamer alt-pop. "we could take a trip into a new country," he teases on 'Urban eunuchs', but forget that. The only record you'll hear this year (or any other) to borrow from both Heroes-era Bowie and southern rap hooligan Waka Flocka Flame, this new full-length release from the band sounds like a trip into another universe, full of trippy analogue synths, manipulated samples, punchy distorted guitars and heavy brass orchestrations.
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