Profondo Rosa

Aylu’s music has tenuous relationships to a number of different genres – juke and footwork; vaporwave; toytown electronica; post-Autechre, intricate IDM – but it’s the way this Argentinian producer merges those forms, and then muddies them playfully, like a child drawing their fingers through a paint palette, that makes Profondo Rosa a compelling listen. It can be hard to pin down exactly why it works – why the sax lines in “D’oro” feel like vapour trails of smoke, not easy listening fluff; why the clicky tickle of “Grigio” has more character than hundreds of glitch producers – perhaps it’s something to do with a light touch, a capacity to make the intricate seem effortless, to let complex elements join together as they fly through the air, as though they’re weightless, freed from convention.