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On April 7th electronic luminary Nathan Fake presents the new longplayer ‘Crystal Vision’ on his own Cambria Instruments imprint, which features collaborations with Clark and Wizard Apprentice.

This is music for music’s sake – recorded without angles, agendas and themes – so Fake was free to simply continue honing his craft and express himself non-literally. Aptly titled, there’s a clarity of execution and ambition, and a peak effectiveness to the record that just sounds right.

Continuing to set a personal bar higher and topping his own best, the mark of master craftsperson is everywhere, but that doesn’t mean it’s polished; There’s plenty of rawness evident, with spiky sonics keeping ears on high alert – full of endorphin-flooded rave energy.

Following a short, scene-setting ‘Arrival’ – a simple major chord arpeggio played on a Jupiter 6 which sounds like curtains opening at dawn, things begin apace with ‘The Grass’, which hurtles like a precision-tuned bullet train through Arctic tundra. The undulating effect of compression is emphasised by the classic techno trope where 2 rhythms jar yet interlock, creating an exquisitely disorientating strobe-like flutter. On the track’s guest, Fake comments, “I fell in love with Wizard Apprentice's ‘I Am Invisible’ and felt our musical styles were similar. Their vocals are smooth and clear and sharp at the same time. They’re like a calm within the storm.”

Inspired by Italo disco but sounding wholly alien and futuristic, ‘Vimana’’s fizzing buzzsaw arpeggiated bassline, popping snares and bright whirling melody are equally an electro trance melange, with an effervescent major chord Arp that kicks in midway.

Reminiscent of what used to be called ‘funky techno’ but with sparklier sounds, ‘Boss Core’ blinds like sunshine bouncing off ice. Using his trusty Boss DR550 drum machine, and inspired by Autechre's ‘Vose In’, the track peaks by reaching that melancholic/euphoric axis for which he is loved.

With chugging slow breakbeats not a million miles from Board Of Canada or trip hop, ‘Crystal Vision’ rolls along, with the melody opening up, revealing more hidden notes as it progresses, building into a fractal, kaleidoscopic mosaic.

An emotional outpouring with serotonin surging through the circuitry, classic breakbeats and layers of lazers, ‘Bibled’ has all the hallmarks of a classic. This is a bonafide festival-set closing, hugging-your-mates, moment – or, with its guitar solo, “a power ballad” – as Nathan calls it.

A minimalistic moment of calm midway through the album, ‘CMD’’s gently comforting dreamscape is conjured with FM stacked and detuned sine waves which are left to breathe, whilst the chunky Chicagoan house jack of ‘Hawk’ brings to mind classic Relief records, but even more detuned and wibbly, and laden with synths.

As the title suggests, ‘Amen 96’ is in Fake’s own words, “me having a go at jungle. I grew up listening to it, and I remember as a teenager it sounded like the most intense and otherworldly music ever. It still does. This track is an experiment to see how my melodic style works against amen breaks”. Closer to the braindance end of the spectrum than ‘proper’ jungle (and all the more interesting for it), Fake channels the spirit of Squarepusher but makes it his own, brimming with melodious twinkle.

A collaboration with Nathan’s close friend and genuine musical hero Clark. ‘Outsider’ finds this dream team alchemising pure gold that’s bigger than the sum of their parts. Skittering, intense, far-reaching end epic, the pair close proceedings on a grandly dramatic note. In 2020 Nathan released the album ‘Blizzards’, which was described by The Quietus as “his best work”, and “his best LP yet” yet by Resident Advisor. The equally well received ‘Blizzards Remixes’ EP which featured Afrodeutsche and Irene Dresel followed in 2021, as did a nationwide UK tour.

An in-demand remixer, Fake has added his magic to tracks by Radiohead, Clark, Perc, Jon Hopkins, GoGo Penguin, Dominik Eulberg, Christian Löffler and Damian Lazarus, working for labels including Ninja Tune, Domino, Warp, Blue Note and Kompakt.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.