{"id":17681,"date":"2020-04-27T11:15:00","date_gmt":"2020-04-27T15:15:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/?post_type=records&p=17681"},"modified":"2020-04-27T16:22:55","modified_gmt":"2020-04-27T20:22:55","slug":"sister-ultraista","status":"publish","type":"records","link":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/en\/records\/sister-ultraista\/","title":{"rendered":"Sister"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Select Ultra\u00edsta\u2019s \u201cSister\u201d, press play, and dive into the deep end, that\u2019s what the first notes of the album Sister<\/em> suggest. Note that it can be listened to in a small bathtub just as well, even if its tempo is primarily danceable. The whole balance between the desire to dance and the desire to lie down and let yourself float comes from the sound of the synthesizer, which also has the experimental touch of Nigel Godrich, the producer of Radiohead’s albums. If a quick listen to the album doesn’t leave an indelible imprint, Laura Bettinson’s voice is ultimately hypnotising. Unless this lullaby effect comes from the haunting, metronomic drums? The simplest thing to do is to let the album’s tracks roll by, and let the keyboard notes sparkle and the violins unfurl on \u201cBumblebees\u201d, before landing smoothly with \u201cThe Moon and Mercury\u201d. The disco ambience of the early tracks then turns into a sensory excursion with a cuddly texture. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If the album finally took eight years to be released after its eponymous predecessor, it’s because inspiration sometimes takes time, as does attentive listening, but nothing says you can’t get lost in it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n