Charles Rehill files his dispatches from Cooperstown, New York. Not exactly the place I'd expect to find an electronic music artist who excels at expressing feelings that are perfectly encompassed by the title of this album. But Metropolis, of course, fits like a glove. Rehill's samples organically build into goth-tinged songs that occasionally verge on the industrial.

Lost Signal Anatomy of Melancholy (Metropolis)

The construction of these pieces is impressive. Even when Rehill's vocals come on to the scene, the music is constantly evolving and exploring. And as those vocals rarely stray from a semi-melodic monotone, the music had better excel. It does.

There isn't a singular peg to these songs, either. Sometimes they whirl around a beat, but other times they enter and depart into a background of fog or maybe a particular sample or melodic line. More impressively, this center often shifts more than once per song, and yet everything holds together.

An initial appraisal of this set might call it meditative and introspective. True enough, but there is so much behind that surface noise. The quiet part often finds itself shouted out, and at times that introspective thought flips into something are more grandiose. The shifting centers I described have a lot to do with that. This is the rare mostly quiet album that can scream--even when it is getting quieter. Again, this set is perhaps the best expression of the album title I've heard in ages. An all-encompassing, fully-engaging set of ideas. And it sounds great, too.