Hypo : Kotva

Good-humoured Parisian exotica

It’s wise, of course, to take precautions. Like [I]American Psycho[/I] Patrick Bateman, you cover the floor in wipe-clean plastic. You hook the protective mask and overalls out of the closet,

and have a stiff drink. Only then do you place the CD in the machine. But there’s no sudden mental crisis. No messy physical collapse. Instead, the sounds emanating from Hypo’s debut album are rather enjoyable.

This is not what you expect from Spymania, the London-based musical sick-bay that has, in the past, offered up the asylum sounds of MDK and Cassette Boy. Instead, Hypo – Parisian furniture salesman Anthony Keyeux – deals in pretty ambient melodies that only occasionally have you re-adjusting your mental health ambitions. ‘Wundersingle’ could be a forward-thinking carol; ‘Texmex’ is the chatter of friendly robots; the fluting ‘Beauloop’ is almost the soundtrack to a garden party waltz. Of course, there are lurking traumas: the sinister jazz of ‘Fffff’ and the boxcar field recording of ‘Animaux’ are just punishment for letting your protective visor down. Still, it makes a change from Huey Lewis And The News.

Victoria Segal