In a recent Rising feature, Anthony Naples accurately remarked that 18 months was "a lifetime" in the hyper-accelerated domain of electronic music. By that metric, Bristol's Guy Middleton—who records as Guido—is knee-deep into a third reprise since his debut full-length dropped. While that particular strain of dubstep has fallen so far out of fashion in the interim as to be a virtually non-existent facet of the wider conversation, this affords favorable conditions for a follow-up. Neither long-since-advanced compatriots nor the decomposing remnants of a scene connive to make the sophomore effort look like a sore-thumb relic. On Moods of Future Joy, the only thing Guido is up against is himself. But that amounts to a tougher battle than expected.
Anidea was graceful, accessible, infectious, and above all immensely fun; a superb record that still stands up as perhaps the peak statement of a short-lived era. The marriage of surging bass swells and enormous hooks, sketched in tones cribbed from R&B and bastardised P-funk, radiated color and not just the "purple" sound with which it become synonymous. That tag came to hamstring Gemmy and Joker, fellow Bristolians in the triumvirate, whose blatant desire to shift away resulted in ill-fortune—total stasis in the case of the former, misguided crossover hybrids aimed at U.S. gamers in the case of the latter—something unwisely attempted in the sagging middle of Moods with the third rate TNGHT blare of "NRG". During the heat of widespread interest, when sparkplug Joker was leading the pack with jagged bombast, Guido appeared more content to mosey behind, eyes fixed toward the sky, conjuring up moments of opulence, clarity and downright loveliness. Those exist here, but are populated more sparsely, and often take dull slogs to prise out.
Traditionally, Guido's classically-attuned ear has helped push his songs beyond the limitations of a relatively rudimentary digital setup. The healthy balance struck between floor-filling and after-hours appeal is an uncommon trait when juxtaposed with the sawtooth aggression of his then-peers. So it's disappointing to find Moods padded with a clutch of amateurish numbers that wouldn't warrant more than brief pause during any given Soundcloud trawl. The aforementioned "NRG" is one; the underwhelming "Midnight Savannah" another. Both vocal tracks prove to be missteps: Lead single 'Green Eyed Monster''s snaggy synth and lowpass scree make an awkward fit for Emma-Lou's undercooked contributions, and "Letting Go" would provide better support for her thin voice were it not for the lack of dynamism, letting flat beats topple weakly.
Guido's approach to embellishing tracks has lost some of its nuance, supplanted by a more clumsy approach to gluing certain elements together. Full-bodied percussive timbres, subdued pads and an echo-drenched guitar lead all build to a thrilling climax on "Afrika Pt.2", but only after a leaden UK funky beat is allowed far too much time to calcify while nakedly exposed, negating the final triumph. It's a recurring problem, weakening other strong set-pieces across the board. The grin-inducing bridge on "Heartful Dodger" evokes sinking into Super Mario pipes, but only as an escape mechanism from vocoder'd lyrics that fall worrying close to Chromeo's whiny talkbox. Confusingly, the same cheap effect is utilised in a similarly irritating manner on "Lucky Git", distracting from a bouncing bassline and pensive synth lead that wouldn't sound out of place in an unearthed 2-step treasure from 1997.
Only two cuts really shine outright, and its no coincidence that both map out a softer deviation. Grandiose tom rolls bring the immensely cheery lead on "Same Road" crashing through stained-glass windows, working in a classic Guido lineage that feels like a familiar hand on your shoulder. It shares a dainty atmosphere with the germane standout "Kalm", a billowy number that melds a gooey centre with hobbling, plucked strings that leave delicately textured contrails as they fade. It would round proceedings off tastefully, but the serenity is allowed no time to manifest before the thick, adventurous "Squeaky Jungle" storms through. It's a decent track in its own right, but a perplexing choice to close the album out.
Nothing on Moods of Future Joy is overtly bad, but there's scant to get especially excited about. Guido is still an adept producer with a canny knack for a pleasing melody, but treads water far more than he should. On Moods Of Future Joy he settles for a middle ground, diluting a winning formula. In doing so, he repositions the remaining streaks of brilliance as frustratingly slippery.
