Machinedrum - Human Energy (2016)

Why Listen?

If Machinedrum’s earlier works were the shadowy underbelly of a neon-lit city, Human Energy is the sunrise after the storm—a euphoric, technicolor explosion of sound that feels like plugging your soul directly into the cosmos.

Known for his intricate footwork beats and sample-heavy experimentation on albums like Room(s) and Vapor City, Travis Stewart (aka Machinedrum) flips the script here, delivering an album that trades brooding introspection for radiant optimism. It’s as if he took his signature glitchy chaos, doused it in liquid sunshine, and let it run wild. The result? A genre-defying journey that feels like a spiritual awakening on the dancefloor.

From the very first track, you’re launched into a kaleidoscopic realm where shimmering synths and celestial arpeggios swirl around skittering percussion. It’s not just music—it’s a sonic baptism, cleansing your ears with waves of effervescent energy.

Tracks like "Angel Speak" and "Do It 4 U" radiate an almost spiritual warmth, blending soulful vocals with hyperactive beats that feel like they’re dancing just ahead of your heartbeat.

Technically speaking, this album is a marvel. The production is razor-sharp, with every synth stab and drum hit polished to perfection. Stewart’s use of FM synthesis gives the album a crystalline quality, while his knack for layering intricate rhythms ensures there’s always something new to discover on repeat listens.

But don’t let the technical wizardry fool you—this isn’t an album that hides behind its production chops. At its core, Human Energy is about connection: between artist and listener, between collaborators, and between the raw emotions that make us human.

Listening to Human Energy feels like stepping into an alternate dimension where joy is currency and music is the universal language. It’s not just an album—it’s an experience, one that demands to be felt as much as heard.

Curator's Note:

It's such a weird album, but I think it's worth sharing. This guy who's known for his dark and gritty music moves to sunny LA and has a baby. His priorities and disposition change, and he makes this album. It's like the paternal instinct etched on wax. Give it a spin.