In places, Lines + Colours hits a sweet spot that makes it all worthwhile. When that happens his scuffed loops have real longevity, as demonstrated on the ten-minute title track. There's some nice detailing to it—wobbly synth squiggles, the odd suggestion of a techno-like bleep—but it's really all about the way the creamy arp turns somersaults around a patient house thump. About halfway in you go from intrigued to hypnotised, and by minute ten you've forgotten what you were doing.
"Red Circle" is a safe but satisfying reprise of the producer's usual heavy-lidded funk. The sedated soul chords recline way back on the beat, and there's a hint of lazy menace in its bassline. The rest of the EP tentatively explores fresh ideas. "Brixton" feels unsure of itself; its jaunty chords sit oddly with pads that sluice in from the midpoint. "Mirrors" is better, its beat fading in not with the usual stoned swagger but the steady patience of techno. It's an association strengthened by looped toms and cool feedback trails, though the bassline still has that familiar old glint in its eye. At this point, we know what Moiré does best, and so does he.