Malibu is the ambient alias of French experimental artist Barbara Braccini. Working with regular collaborators celebrated cellist Oliver Coates and gifted guitarist Florian Le Prisé, she released the 5 song set Palaces Of Pity back in 2020. Expanded to 6 pieces, this recently received a sellout vinyl pressing, while a second is currently available to pre-order.

Opening number, The Things That Fade, will tell you all that you need to know about Malibu’s modus operandi. This is a siren’s song woven from seductive, spectral sighs, drones, which come in waves and rushes, and looming, booming low-end. An ethereal sheen of reverb and delay wrapping its swooning romantic melancholy. The harmonic hum of So Far Out Of Love is like Brock Van Wey meets 10cc. Atlantic Diva has a hymn-like quality, choral harmonies and graceful, gossamer guitar. Cheriosa ’94 is a short of sampled surf, symphonic swells, spoken prose, and bass eruptions. Iliad sends up shimmer like ocean spray, smashed against Tim Buckley via This Mortal Coil’s breakers. Braccini’s voice rising, emerging from the musical mist, as if tearing free of tides and currents. On the vinyl this is briefly reprised, extracted from the studio ether, as a cello-accompanied poem. Taken in one hit the full 30-ish minutes are a heavy dose of sonic narcotic. A heady dissociative, where you’ll find a fix, a moment of relief, respite, and safe, warm, sanctuary inside.

Palaces Of Pity is a very special thing. I don’t suppose that it does anything anything new, if anything it’s retro, but what is does it does so well. So often modern takes on this sound – post-rave, post-classical, electronic post-shoegaze – seem compelled to throw in something jarring, discordant, as if making them more difficult to listen to somehow makes them more “serious”. Everything here, from start to finish is beautiful. Like the Cocteau Twins travelling, lit, on Burial’s night bus.

Malibu’s Palaces Of Pity can be ordered digitally from UNO NYC, while the vinyl is up for pre-order at Boomkat.