Album Review: The Morning That Never Came by Alexis Nembrode
If you’ve ever wondered what it would sound like if a Portuguese electronica wizard got lost in time and space, The Morning That Never Came is your answer. Released in 2017 under the “Not On Label” label (because who needs labels when you’re this experimental?), this album is a wild ride through Techno, Breakbeat, Ambient, IDM, and Experimental vibes. It’s like someone threw a bunch of genres into a blender and hit “puree.” And honestly? I’m here for it.
Let’s cut to the chase: there are 12 tracks on this thing, but two stood out to me like neon signs in a foggy alley—“First Glimpse of Fear” and “Moonwater Madness.”
“First Glimpse of Fear” kicks things off with an eerie vibe that feels like walking into a haunted museum after hours. The beats creep up on you, subtle at first, then BAM—it’s all pulsing synths and glitchy undertones. You know those moments when you’re not sure if something’s following you or if it’s just your imagination? Yeah, that’s this track. By the end, you’ll either be reaching for your headphones to replay it or checking over your shoulder for ghosts. Either way, mission accomplished, Alexis.
Then there’s “Moonwater Madness,” which sounds exactly like its name suggests—a chaotic yet strangely soothing trip to the moon’s chill-out lounge. Imagine floating in zero gravity while breakbeats bounce around your head like rogue asteroids. There’s a moment halfway through where everything drops out, leaving just this shimmering ambient layer that makes you feel like you’re floating face-first into a cosmic light show. Weird? Absolutely. Memorable? Oh yeah.
The rest of the album keeps the energy high (or low, depending on how introspective you’re feeling). Tracks like “Shores” and “Signals From The Distance” bring the ambient goodness, while “Piltdown Man” throws some curveballs with its experimental twists. Honestly, it’s hard to pick favorites because every song feels like its own little universe.
What’s cool about The Morning That Never Came is how unapologetically itself it is. It doesn’t care if you “get” it; it just wants you to experience it. Listening to this album feels like stepping into someone else’s dream—or maybe their nightmare—and realizing you kind of enjoy being there.
So, final thoughts? If you’re into music that challenges your brain as much as your ears, give this one a spin. Just don’t blame me if “Moonwater Madness” convinces you aliens exist. Or if “First Glimpse of Fear” makes you sleep with the lights on.
Oh, and here’s the unexpected remark: Alexis Nembrode probably listens to whale songs for fun. Don’t ask me why—I just know.
