Sex & Food

Sex and Food is a beautiful introspection and a far better answer to the day’s political malaise and helplessness than my usual response of embarking on an enraged and slutty food binge.

Nielson is comfortable enough in his own songwriting to settle into airtight grooves--with the assistance of the clattering, shifty drums from his brother--and allow them to simmer for a few golden moments. His guitar playing is sensational, and his use of warping effects to achieve the right mix of tightness and sensitivity gets better with each UMO record.

Ultimately, Sex & Food is a very impressive record from not only Nielsen but also just to possess during these troubling times. There’s a lot to be scared about right now, but there’s also a lot out there to love, and thanks to UMO, we now have a soundtrack for that.

Showing not only progression and honing of a craft, this record goes from a hulking shredding Goliath to a reflective funk record in the space of a few minutes with wonderfully engrossing results.

It's hard to fault the album overall; even though there's a trend for magpie-esque records, Sex & Food still has an instantly identifiable sound. It may not reach the peaks of the previous album but it's stuffed with ideas, and proves that Nielson's consistently shifting tone finds creative strength where others might stretch themselves too thin.

This is a smorgasbord of an album: one to be indulged, and one to be savoured.

Multi-Love's frequently tremendous follow-up. [May 2018, p.92]

Sex & Food gives the audience a closer look at the chaos-wrapped disco frenzy inside Ruban’s mind.

Sex & Food might be reluctant to fully reveal itself, but in being the most uncompromising album in Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s discography it also feels like Nielson’s most honest musical statement to date.

Sex & Food is best in this spaced-out zone, where alienation sounds genuinely alien. The record’s disembodiment is precisely what makes it intriguing and, occasionally, unlistenable.

Sex and Love is best when self-assured but not arrogant, and when Nielson offers up confidently subdued melodies which give space for his production to ring out.

Although Sex & Food’s heavy-lidded moments can occasionally meander too far afield into somnolence, the record’s sharp observations about life, politics, and society are focused.

On Sex & Food Unknown Mortal Orchestra are inventive, ragged, sometimes tiring, and very cool.

Sonic derangement figures on this accomplished, disjointed record.

This more paired-back approach isn’t always successful, mind: certain parts of Sex & Food--a bit like inviting whipped cream into the bedroom--seem like a really good idea at the start, but turn into a bit of a sloppy mess along the way.

Sex & Food comes with a handful of missteps, like the forgettable ‘Not In Love Were Just High’ and ‘This Doomsday’ in the album’s final third. But by and large, it sees UMO pushing their sound impressively, bending the rule book as crudely as they can before the spine break

While Sex & Food is a disjointed effort with Nielson's usual ingenuity wavering at times, fans will undoubtedly find favourites in certain tracks. It's an anxious, up-and-down affair, with moments of reward sprinkled within its lethargic haze.