If the advancement of technology within the music sector brought us anything, it was a wave of creatives who previously may not have gone down the road of learning an instrument and collaborating in that fraught and fractious rite of passage known as being in a band, finally having the door open to them.

It doesn’t mean that anyone can make music just because you put the tools in front of them. Still, it does mean that those with imagination and dedication can broaden the horizons of what music is, or can be, ushering in new sounds, styles, genres and approaches. Mr. MiLK is just such an artist.

If you are one of those people who needs their music neatly tagged and tied, then albums such as Supersticious, I mean, look at his wonderfully flagrant disregard for spelling, which is a perfect indication of his attitude towards traditions and rules; I mean, they are just letters, man, does it matter that they are the right ones, I mean, you can still understand what the word is! Cantcha?

And so his approach to music takes a similar anagramatical and outside-the-lines approach, bouncing between classical ebbs and ambient flows, which in turn are often shot through with industrial abrasiveness or avant-garde digital jazz forms or made up entirely of electro-rock excess.

It’s different, that’s for sure, but it shows just how vast the canvas is for so-armed digital artists. Just don’t ask me where to file this in the record store racks. (Do we still have such things?)

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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