Let me let Verses GT introduce themselves. Longtime collaborators Jacques Greene (Philippe Aubin-Dionne) and Nosaj Thing (Jason Chung) are officially stepping out as a duo with a self-titled album centered on collaboration. “Trust is the key word and concept around this project,” says Aubin-Dionne. Verses GT isn’t just an album, it seems, but an immersive audiovisual experience (live shows, music videos, light displays—“an all encompassing banner for a new collaborative world,” trumpets their Bandcamp) painstakingly crafted across a bevy of glamorous metropolises in hot pursuit of that elusive little thing called vibe. It’s a risky proposition: A concept like this can feel a little overwrought, a little too “creative”-as-noun, a little for sale, Wales Bonner Sambas, never worn. But Aubin-Dionne and Chung are gifted producers with extensive histories of creating banger after banger, and it’s no surprise that the music ultimately speaks for itself, album rollout be damned. Verses GT focuses their chameleonic, collaborative impulses, utilizing guest features and the duo’s signature R&B influences to gratifyingly moody effect.
As solo artists, Jacques Greene and Nosaj Thing have spanned their own respectively wide sonic ranges: the former often flipping ’90s R&B samples into glimmering, levitate-off-the-dancefloor tracks, the latter incorporating features from indie stalwarts like Julianna Barwick and Panda Bear into unusually sensuous, synthy mixdowns and producing for Chance the Rapper and Blonde Redhead. Together, though, the duo’s vision shines pretty singularly: Verses GT compresses the center of their Venn diagram to a fine point, layering UKG-esque breakbeats over a relatively subdued palette of synths that throb with a mixture of anxiety and hope.
Verses GT doesn’t just succeed in pinpointing a specific feeling: The whole album pulses with a mutable, introspective quality that brings palpable life to even the most stripped-back arrangements. Album standout “Left” is a triumph in steamy subtlety, with a few well-timed gasps and dreamy piano riffs cutting through to give us glimpses through the fog. And the stark choral ambience of opener “Fragment” ramps up the tension before giving way to the distant horns and breakbeats of “Unknown,” which skitters along at a very Burial-esque frequency (if perhaps in a timeline where Burial shook more ass).
Both Aubin-Dionne and Chung are typically adept at tempering vocals to each song’s vision, which they really flex on the soft grooves of “Your Light” (feat. George Riley) and the trip-hoppy “Angels” (feat. TYSON), melding their voices as languidly into their respective tracks as ever. It’s jarring, then, to hear the stridence of “Forever” (feat. KUČKA), particularly when sandwiched between the breezily distorted “Wan” and the six-minute “Found”—which, for what it’s worth, does such an excellent job incorporating a harsh breakbeat into soft synth melodies that it never feels a second too long. “Forever” could feasibly have worked as a neon-drenched standalone in the vein of tracks like Jacques Greene’s 2023 strobelight-conjuring tech-house anthem “Believe,” but within the hyperspecific context of Verses GT, it just feels like they turned all the lights on mid-show, to party-foul effect.
Ultimately, Verses GT finds its footing again as “Angels” fades out into the ethereal “Vision + Television,” where haunting strings and synth melodies circle vulture-like over sawtoothy basslines that seem to writhe in place. It’s a fittingly bleary-eyed end to an album that’s more Eyes Wide Shut than Project X, a club jaunt that invites us, maybe a little too eagerly, to stick around and get comfortable: lean into the blurriness, acclimate to the thickness in the air. But there’s no need for self-consciousness or over-explanation. Aubin-Dionne and Chung don’t need to tell us how to move; Verses GT compels us to.
