Album cover for Little Bark, USB.
The moment USB (which stands for Unique Sonic Broadcast, not a piece of office equipment) opens with Modern Love, you hear a flicker of Swedish electro-pop diva Robyn, a touch of David Bowie, a flash of Kylie Minogue, and also something distinctly Kiwi, with mentions of Crown Lynn and an
lyrical accent that's hard to place.
With a wide palette of vintage synths, deep, lush bass lines, drum tracks steeped in the 80s, and a cinematic approach, Little Bark (aka Sophie Burbery) has created a sprawling, assertive record that manages to be jubilant and tense, shadowy and punchy. It's a timeless piece of work that echoes the kind of grand, emotive, electronic statement M83 and Fever Ray proposed, though it's brasher than both.
She mixes instrumentals among the lyric-led songs, but avoids losing momentum by keeping the tracks relatively short, and using instrumentals to build the atmosphere rather than as an interlude.
Burbery's very beguiling, sweet yet husky voice does make the songs stand out though, and the aching melodrama of Poly is very hard to resist, while final track Crystal Ball has a dreamy finality to it which evokes all sorts of film endings, and Arpeggiator has a swirling sorcery that feels like the apex to a dark, Lynch-ian film.
