Until now, the music that Stuart Howard has put out as Lapalux has masked his tendency to labor over details until he’s achieved perfection. The London producer built his previous two full-lengths and four EPs on a solid foundation of beats and melodies. On Ruinism, his third full-length, Howard abandons his trademark emphasis on grooves, vocals, R&B, hip hop, and jazz in favor of a less immediately listener-friendly blend of abstract sounds. This move isn’t as drastic as, say, Amon Tobin’s like-minded shift from jazz breaks to Foley-based sound sources on his 2007 album The Foley Room. Still, Lapalux fans will likely be scratching their heads wondering where the meat of his sound went.
Whether or not those fans take a shine to Ruinism, Howard’s determination should be applauded. Lapalux’s debut full-length, 2013’s Nostalchic, and preceding EP, 2012’s When You’re Gone, also drew from Foley sources and field recordings, but they weren’t the main focus. Howard appeared content to make sultry, soulful songs that owed a great debt to groups like Zero 7 and Morcheeba. Lapalux’s mix of tentativeness and a strong pulse made it the ideal soundtrack for that headspace when you’re either getting ready to go out clubbing or just coming back—this decade’s answer to chillout with a kick of adrenaline.
The time, the mood shifts dramatically. Howard’s last album, 2015’s Lustmore, gets a jump-start from singer Andreya Triana right off the bat, her smoky voice as full-bodied and looming as a pipe organ resounding in a church. By contrast, the first sounds to take center stage on Ruinism track opener “Reverence” are a repeating loop (a kind of digital version of a railway station bell) and a bouquet of strings. The strings increase in tension and come to a near-boil, but the track simply dissipates, never developing into a hook or even a form.
Singer GABI makes an entrance at the outset of the next track, “Data Demon,” her wordless, operatic chants blending with strings to mimic the sound of a theremin or musical saw. GABI’s voice soars to the uppermost reaches of the human register (at least it sounds that way), but again no hook emerges. And when Howard adds some bass drops, he does so as a harsh counterpoint, a kind of punching-bag effect in the middle of a classical concert hall.
By this point, it becomes obvious that Howard isn’t making a pop record here. Several of the new tunes feature guest vocalists—JFDR, Louisahhh, Talvi, Raphaelle Standell-Preston, Camella Lobo, and Szjerdene Mulcare all appear—but few of them supply a conventional “lead” vocal. Similarly, Howard’s beats don’t ever quite cohere into grooves, while the overwhelming majority of the album pushes the fabric of its sounds in front of everything else. Other than the Talvi feature “4EVA,” it’s even fair to say that Ruinism doesn’t actually consist of songs. Which leaves little left but Howard’s attention to detail, now strikingly and undeniably apparent from start to finish.
Following "4EVA," Howard’s dance side tentatively returns on the holographic house groove of “Essex Is Burning.” From there, the album features beats more prominently. But even then, Ruinism lingers in a state somewhere between classical and a kind of post-electro mindset characterized by non-functional beat-making, as if the stuttering pulse of the songs were emanating from broken pieces of machinery. It is to Howard’s enormous credit that he is able to make this music flow given the secondary role that rhythm, harmony, and structure take.
Though far less accessible than his previous material, Ruinism isn’t the clinical listen it could have turned into. Its performers are never spotlit and yet its textures never lack a human soul. It is the kind of album that tends to frustrate a fanbase while cementing its maker as an artist for that very willingness to alienate the faithful. You could say that Ruinism is Howard’s coming-out party as a composer, but even that incorrectly implies an adherence to tradition. With Ruinism, Howard sets out on a whole new path to conceiving his music.
