Walk Thru Me

Davis and Barlow’s commitment to experimentation remains. This album doesn’t entirely gel the way their previous LPs once did – Davis and Barlow used to sing together as part of their arch shtick regularly – but their enduring friendship is still palpable. That is something they have always taken seriously.

“Right Hand Over My Heart”, an irresistible number with moody Omnichord and synth motifs, and at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, the sinuous “Water Torture”, in which a disgusted Davis addresses his country’s barbarity practised in the name of world order. “Moonlit Kind” closes the set, an existential hymn with an agreeably lazy, Yeasayer-ish groove. [Jul 2024, p.30]

Still tuned in to an aesthetic of translating disparate ideas into fine-tuned songs, the Folk Implosion sound at home on Walk Thru Me, taking their music to new, strange places, as always, regardless of the years that have passed since the last time we heard from them.

Walk Thru Me’s idiomatic alt-rock composition feels too stable to properly channel it. At their best, Barlow and Davis wrestled with seemingly opposing interests in the primal and futuristic: After a long period of inactivity, they’re still finding their footing in the present.

This, somewhat muted, first album in 20 years lacks much of the Beck-like shuffle and experimental pop lustre of that early era, but boasts a mature earthy seam thanks to Barlow lacing its noirish alt.folk, 80s-inflected crypt rock and melodic drone and dub experiments with touches of Middle Eastern instrumentation. [Summer 2024, p.72]