Hard to describe, but easy to immerse yourself in, Blue Light is an introspective art piece from the Newcastle/Mulubinba artist.

I stopped short of calling Blue Light a “masterpiece” in the headline; those kinds of superfluous, clickbait titles can sometimes turn readers off. The last thing we want is for people to scroll past or skip this, as this album needs to be heard. There’s really no one in Australia doing what Carthew is doing right now—or at least, not at this level.

Breaking this album down song-by-song feels almost redundant. Unlike most collections of songs in the post-CD era, Blue Light is a cohesive work meant to be enjoyed as a whole. On first listen, the melancholic breakbeat tunes jump out, but after a few plays, the brooding interludes—parts you might normally skip—reveal themselves as essential parts of the album’s construction.

Stilted piano lines jut out against the beats, resembling a blend of Thom Yorke and Cosmogramma-era Flying Lotus (not a comparison made lightly), while saxophonist Mauricesax adds free-form jazzy blue notes that elevate the music. There are shades of darkness mixed in with euphoric and dreamy motifs, which is what gives in that deep in-ward looking sentiment – it’s personal.

It’s clear that Soul Wun is a visual listener who interprets what he sees into music. You only need to look at the track names; ‘Call Me By Your Name’ and ‘Everything All At Once’, combined with the album’s title to understand this. Listening to Blue Light you can almost sense these at-times washed-out and shadowy, smokey visuals.

Anyway, I’m running out of ways to say that this album is insanely good. Maybe a masterpiece? Immerse yourself here.