- Much loved and long-lived duo of Aussie beatmakers Hermitude have greeted the end of the pandemic with a record put together just before it. They were, at the time, a bit tired already and looking to take a step back, even just a little one, from the demands of their music industry commitments and the all-encompassing maximalism of their craft. Heading back to their home in the Blue Mountains and a simpler way of doing things, their latest album, Mirror Mountain, is a soulful tribute to both.

Like old rockers picking up an acoustic guitar, Hermitude left behind the largest part of their studio hardware, in favour of a very simple setup combining one synth, one laptop and a Moog Matriarch. So much, so nostalgic, but looking back, this return to roots, it brings with it a different emotional inflection, too. If euphoria is one of the key elements of Hermitude’s toolkit, here it’s a mellower joy. Honestly, who doesn’t get a bit that way when thinking about the past?

It affects all the music here, I think. Even at its most over-the-top -and Hermitude are still pounding out the bangers on the first half of Mirror Mountain- a song like Promises is cut with a kind of uncertainty, thanks to the vocal contributions of fellow Blue Mountains local, Andie. “Promise me the world and no lies But baby don’t go back on your promises.” It’s pure dance anthem, but you can’t hear those words and not wonder if everything is really okay in paradise. There’s a circumspection on the other big team-up, too, this time with The Jungle Giants on When You Feel Like This. It’s like the day after reaching the summit of your feelings. Hey it still feels good though and when it sounds like this -as if someone gave Hot Chip a shot of super-charged disco, well, don’t argue.

The second half of Mirror Mountain is, after making all that effort, happy to give up the energetic charade. Golden Hour really does sound like an echo of the old days and the early 2000’s instrumental hip hop of a record like Tales From The Drift. Hermitude go on to infuse it with extra layers and production magnificence, so you can still imagine them breaking it out on the festival stage without sending everybody into a coma. The introspection only grows as the record progresses, the nostalgia really is tinged blue. It’s strange to hear the lyrics of a cut like Flush With Love: if you switched them up with Andie’s moodiness on the otherwise ebullient sounds of Promises, everything would make more sense. Here, however, being ‘flush with love’ sounds like a bit of a burden and confirms the bittersweet taste that’s slowly overwhelming the rest of the flavour. In that way -and I’m not sure that anyone even cares about the record as a format at this point- it’s an interesting choice in tracking, to slowly drain away Hermitude’s trademark ecstasy, like, no matter how good the gig is, you know it’s going to end.

If I was going to be a jerk about it, I’d say that Hermitude’s contributions to bass music and dance were much more vibrant and on the cutting edge than their instrumental hip hop ever was; you could argue Mirror Mountain confirms that. As successful as they are, however, Hermitude can do what they want. As a late-middle career outfit taking a breather and a journey back home, it’s bound to be a bit of an emotionally complex experience. They are the Blue Mountains after all.

- Chris Cobcroft.