Actress | Ghettoville [ALBUM REVIEW]

Imagine for a moment what it might be like to suddenly find yourself in a decrepit, leaky, underground sewer tunnel below an abandoned factory, in the worst part of Detroit, in the not-too-distant future. It’s completely void of light except for the occasional beam of sun penetrating the cracks in a random manhole and faintly bleeding down into the black. The place feels like an oily catacomb. A bleak maze that defies logic or reason, like it was built by an insane city planner. The worst part is you have no idea how you got there. You move quietly and fearfully because you’re not sure what’s in front of you, or behind you, or beside you, or above you, or below you. It’s an endless, claustrophobic labyrinth and you don’t know where you are going. In the distance you hear a distorted, uncomfortable moan that’s barely audible. It almost sounds like a human voice; like Charlie Brown’s teacher on horse tranquilizers. Like I said, almost human. It’s getting louder, weaving in and out of the cold air around you. It’s sad, chilling, and strangely beautiful. Like a subterranean siren’s song calling you closer. The only question is, what will you find when you get to the end? This is exactly what Actress’s new album Ghettoville sounds like and I LOVE it.