The London electronic duo cross the final frontier into AI-assisted production on their second full length. Could this be the logical conclusion of their drawn out social experiment?
If you aren’t already aware, Two Shell are not to be trusted. Roughly seven years after they seemed to inexplicably spawn in South London, they’re still operating under the same modus operandi of deliberate deceit and blurred lines between their own individual identities and musical authenticity. This included a number of high profile stunts, such as when they infamously sent in two random blokes to perform for them in disguise at a Boiler Room event in Barcelona for Primavera Sound. Using your moment in the spotlight as one of unwavering self-sabotage is as bold as it is hilarious, and in doing so cemented their positions as dance music’s biggest tricksters.
In the years since, the duo have seen their stock rise as their unmistakable hybrid brand of hyperpop, speed garage and dubstep gained heaps of attention and airplay. Plenty more decoys have been deployed for media engagements, which has naturally done nothing but heighten the sensation around who on earth these two are. Building a schtick around deception and subversion has proven an airtight marketing strategy which Two Shell have executed to perfection, as people’s insatiable desire for mystery and perplexity remains as strong as ever. It’s been done before, sure; but the very specific comment which the duo are making on the fallibility of artist personas becoming so integral to dance music is a valid, and original one.
The problem is, their games are getting a little bit old now. Leading fans down an endless labyrinth of lies and puzzles works for as long as it’s accompanied by music which makes the treasure hunt a worthwhile payoff. The efficacy of hyperpop seems entirely mood dependent; if you’re not in a particularly cynical headspace, then the shrill vocals and choppy production can be intoxicating. If you’re not feeling it, the natural reaction may be far more inflammatory. With Infinite Now, there are moments in which both outcomes seem completely plausible; although I’m sure Two Shell are completely aware of this.
Frustratingly, it should not sound as good as it does at times. There’s a duality within it which feels as though it has the capability to make you scowl and smirk in equal measure; if you were to hear on a large system at a festival, it would either send you packing for something less ridiculous or suck you in with its unbearably catchy vocal chops. Two Shell seem to be completely in control of this conundrum, and in spite of all the purist naysayers lamenting their flippant attitude towards production and DJ’ing, the duo couldn’t seem to care less. If you’re going to openly admit that AI produced a significant amount of your new album, then clearly you’re past the point of giving a toss what people think.
Among the inane vocals are some incredibly catchy songs which feel like a throwback to the golden-era of clubland. Opener The Nightmare could have been plucked from 2006 (even though it was more than likely cheffed by up an LLM), Thing About You has a glitchy trance vibe which you can picture absolutely exploding in a festival crowd, and Rhythm & Sound has a vaguely Daft Punk edge to it, which annoyingly sounds awesome. That said, there’s also a fair few tracks which do sound like AI-slop – but rather confusingly, the same logic could be applied to the whole album. They also choose to deploy the same tactic as in their DJ sets, by intercutting the climax of buildups with random hot-mic chatter which completely distract from any reasonable tension which is set to release. Deliberate sure, irritating yes.
It’s hard to make sense of Infinite Now. There are moments which drag you in, whether it’s willingly or not. But seeing past the surface level pop-sheen production, it’s also difficult not to look at this album as painstakingly generic. And yes, what began as a pretty radical and energising statement on the rampant self-promotion and growing emphasis on personalities in dance music has now diluted into a musing on the controversial rise of AI into the music industry. By making an album which is openly AI-assisted, have they just brought the curtain down on their own experiment? Or is this just another genius subversion of dance music dogma? Either way, it’s going to rub some people up the wrong way.
