Sudan Archives, the project of singer/songwriter/producer/violinist Brittney Parks, has been quietly crafting one of the more diverse discographies in contemporary music. Since her signing to the illustrious Stones Throw Records a few years back, Parks has proven to be a restless creative spirit with a stubborn refusal to repeat herself sonically. This approach forces the artist to stretch her string-infused loops to imaginative heights, like the hypnotic atmosphere of her 2019 debut, Athena, and the organic, lively energy of her 2022 sophomore effort, Natural Brown Prom Queen. Three years have passed since Parks released a full-length, and the artist’s unpredictability is only one lump of coal in the furnace of anticipation for THE BPM, the long-awaited third instalment of the Sudan Archives story.
Parks does more than craft a concept and follow it for her albums; it’s more akin to method acting. THE BPM follows a futuristic musician capable of the otherworldly bounce and infectiousness due to their intimate relationship with technology and dance music. Parks explored various corners throughout the history of dance music, pulling nostalgic electronics from fruitful electro-dance scenes like Detroit, Chicago, and New Jersey. All of these moving parts and influences, when placed in the hands of an artist with the individuality Parks possesses, are distilled into a honed 15-song LP brimming with mesmerizing percussion, smoothed over by acrobatic vocals.
THE BPM is Parks’s riskiest and most rewarding album to date, and proves that the artist can manipulate her tendencies into whichever form she pleases. Don’t let the “dance music” label fool you; these are not the type of party-starters to throw on in a crowded club. These 15 songs are more equipped for dark house parties, a soundtrack as you roam through familiar faces and dimly-lit corners with a confident rhythm and innate swagger. The moodiness of THE BPM never dims the bright LED lights and pulsating tempos, allowing the tracklist to maintain an immersive consistency while continually evolving to fit moments of vulnerability, like on the downtrodden yet dynamic “SHE’S GOT PAIN,” and stadium-sized celebrations, like the one featured on the chaotically fun “THE NATURE OF POWER.”
To call THE BPM a simple departure from a past sound would do a disservice to the nuanced approach Parks took to her third album. Her soulful roots are present, even as her vocals get drenched in robotic textures, like on the R&B-tinted moments “DAVID & GOLIATH” and “YEA YEA YEA,” and her patented violin break free of loops to add cinematic flair to these loose compositions. Therein lies the true magic of THE BPM. By completely surrendering herself to the concept, Parks can draw on memories from her past selves and incorporate them into the worlds she crafts, proving that a sound no one can take from her is always present underneath her daring sonic leaps.
With stellar highlights like the nimble and romantic “A COMPUTER LOVE,” the colorful waves of “A BUG’S LIFE,” and the neck-breaking drums of “NOIRE,” Parks emerges with another runaway success on THE BPM.
