The record opens with “Neon Pulse,” inviting the listener into a dreamy, orchestral world that flows seamlessly into “Rapture in Blue,” where singer Cecile Believe’s delicate vocals breathe air into slowed-down breakbeats. Guitar melodies lurk, waiting to pounce, on “Haze,” featuring Ellie, which bleeds into “A Silent Shadow,” featuring bdrmm—and they do, with a fierce clash of drums and electric riffs. While Avery has emphasized the distinction between his recorded output and his work as a DJ, the shape of Tremor’s tracklist mirrors a set that gradually builds, shaping a pyramid stacked with desire. While the album’s grit is softened by the rounded, flowing synths on “A Moon Starts Shaking,” it comes at the cost of interrupting Avery’s teeth-grinding flow at a pivotal halfway point.
When asked about his particular taste, Avery has only been able to whittle it down to “music that sounds unreal.” And an otherworldly, electric current runs through Tremor, which, at its best, showcases Avery’s skills at reshaping the textures of his collaborators into new, distinctive forms. Mosshart’s sultry vocals melt into the muddied synths of “Greasy Off the Racing Line,” while yeule’s plaintive pleas grow even more wistful against the backdrop of Avery’s hazy, immersive production. And on the album’s most distinctly shoegaze-influenced track, “In Keeping (Soon We’ll Be Dust),” Avery creates a playful melody that gives shape to Schreifels’ earnest vocals before exploding into loudspeaker fuzz. The song’s instrumental parts flow into “Tremor,” where they are meant to stand alone. Yet as it stretches on, it begins to drag, and Schreifels’ absence is keenly felt.
The album’s penultimate track, “A Memory Wrapped in Paper and Smoke,” creates an orbital soundscape that brings us down to earth and nods to opening track “Neon Pulse,” the only other song created solely with Avery’s long-time collaborator James Greenwood. But Avery doesn’t close out Tremor by tying it in a neat little bow. Instead, he makes his departure on “I Feel You,” with Art School Girlfriend, like he does behind the decks: with a grand, synth-heavy crescendo—taking you higher and higher, out of your world and into his.
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