It’s strange the memories that stick with you. I saw Purity Ring in concert two years ago, but the structure of their setlist and the sound of their performance elude me. I do remember, though, the fragile papier-mâché lanterns decorating the stage. I remember the audience, enshrouded by half-darkness and glazed with sweat, swaying to the music as though time had slowed down. I remember wandering to the merch desk at the end of the night, and spotting these dainty hand-made singlets for sale – hand-made, in fact, by Purity Ring vocalist Megan James. The singlets, softly folded in a loose pile, seemed like an impossibly perfect encapsulation of the electronic duo’s aesthetic: personal, idiosyncratic and charming.

But Purity Ring aren’t wearing bespoke singlets anymore. On their sophomore album, Another Eternity, they stride onto the stage in a glamorous nightgown glowing under a mirror ball. The fragility remains – beneath that celebratory veneer, there’s a prominent edge of regret and reflection – but we are no longer swaying gently: this is a dance party, motherfuckers.

Continue reading my review at The Essential.