“Scurlage” is Mike Paradinas’ first full-length outing under his main moniker in almost a decade. 2013 to 2021 is a long time. In electronic years, it may as well be an entire epoch.

The caveat to this is that Paradinas has been a buzzy ever-present on the scene throughout the 2010s. If anything, his label Planet Mu has matured into an even stronger outlet than its initial flash-bang run of IDM, drill ‘n bass, glitch and whatever other confected genre tags were bristled at back in the day. The past eight years of Mu have seen Jlin, Ziúr, RP Boo, Mr Mitch, Konx-om-Pax, Rian Treanor release exemplary albums on the label, alongside a full spread of rummaging through Mike’s own ‘90s archives: see ‘Aberystwyth Marine’, ‘Challenge Me Foolish’ and ‘Expert Knob Twiddlers’ rescued and reissued in the past five years alone.

So we’re loath to burden “Scurlage” with the weight of Paradinas’ purported absence when the reality has been anything but. Still, what a joy it is to hear one of the country’s finest circuit-whisperers back in the hot seat for an LP of entirely new material. Ideated in the Welsh countryside during 2020’s lockdown. “Scurlage” is quite simply a victory lap thrown down by a singular producer, featuring the signature emotive melodies conjured from soft synths and scuttling drums.

Opening with ‘Blakers Loop’, a tense sci-fi vision cast on top of rolling 808s, it’s clear to see the rub-off effect of Paradinas’ ongoing work with contemporary producers who prioritise low-end heft, triplet drums and trap signatures. This is the µ-Ziq sound rebooted and retooled to both satiate a classic audience and greet a new one. Tracks like ‘Murker’ and ‘Cleaning’ channel the classic future-shock vibes of his earlier work in the form of frenetic dark electro productions, although Paradinas shows restraint, rather than pushing into sonic extremes as he might once have done.

If anything, being proximate to the water’s edge seems to have infused Paradinas’ music with a newfound tenderness. When you’re naming songs ‘Blauwasser’, that fondness for sea spray is hardly subtle. Both ‘Blauwasser’ and ‘Bentley’ sketch dynamic landscapes with their redemptive chords and beatific arpeggio lines, while ‘Strawberry Aero’ completes the narrative in contemplative fashion, the dramatic twists and turns a fading memory as we’re enveloped in soothing synth tones. Of course, any album made through the pandemic is set to carry traces of storm clouds, so this isn’t a completely doe-eyed reinvention. But “Scurlage”’s balance of optimism and moodiness is well judged, a see-saw of complexities and impulses that few could pull off quite as well as Mike. Just don’t leave us waiting until 2029 for the next one.