D_rradio return to the public ear with their third studio release Parts, and considering that their output has never exactly been aimed at the hardcore UK raver, is it reductive to say that their latest is more ambient than their previous offerings?

Well, it’s definitely a more contemplative affair, chilled out glitchy synths being replaced by orchestral swells and less melody, more harmony. It’s quite beautiful in parts, almost more akin to a 20th century classical symphony than an alternative indie album. Warm, graceful and meandering, it’s an open invitation to lose yourself in Parts’ eddies of sound, though first time attendees might expect a little more in the way of continuity or payoff.

For D_rradio’s devotees and/veterans, it’s a quite natural evolution of their music. Dissimilarly to previous efforts, it’s difficult to pick one track out, as in effect this is a concept album, wherein the parts (ah, see what they did there?) are almost interchangeable. If you’re in the right mood (and you do certainly have to be), the effect of sitting back and letting it wash over you is powerful and affecting. This means it can be considered a complex and inaccessible album just as easily as it can be considered mood music. I’m uncertain whether this is a good thing, but it’s testament to how D_rradio are still one of the few bands playing totally by their own rules.

To chart the course of the album as a whole; it all starts innocently enough before the third quarter introduces more menacing motifs and the album blooms due to the more dramatic turn. The instrumentation is uniformly varied but proves particularly lush in the latter half, thrumming bass and horns giving way to synths and languorous woodwinds.
This album asks if you can slow down and be absorbed; for many the task won’t sound too arduous, and for those of you for whom it does I beseech you try anyway. Essentially, what you put in you will get out, and there’s potential to really reach into this record. Parts ends as it begins; softly and beguilingly, and despite its title feels remarkably whole.