When an album named Disniblud (pronounced Disney blood) lands in your inbox, you simply have to give it a spin. The title alone raises questions—will it be ethereal and transportive, or laced with chaotic maximalism? In this case, it’s both, and all the more captivating because of it.
This self-titled debut marks the first collaboration between guitarist/producer Rachika Nayar and composer/multi-instrumentalist Nina Keith, and is released via Domino Records’ electronic/dance imprint, Smugglers Way. The duo met in Brooklyn’s tiny yet vibrant Maria Hernandez Park after fan-girling over each other’s work online. They quickly bonded over a shared affinity for Buddhist and Hindu philosophies and a teenage obsession with the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack. That chance meeting—and the creative chemistry it sparked— led to a rich, shape-shifting album that feels beautifully out of step with easy genre boundaries.
Like anything that lingers with you long after the final note, Disiniblud resists straightforward description. Sonically, you’ll find yourself drifting on a sea of dream pop bliss. That is, until Keith’s sudden surges of rave-ready electronics crash in like tidal waves. It’s a compelling push and pull, where the delicate and the disorienting walk hand in hand through a fogged-up dreamscape. Not to send you reaching for a sick bag, but this really is an album best experienced in full. It’s a journey in the truest sense. Sure, you could cherry-pick a track or two for your “Chill Out” playlist, but you’d miss the full, unpredictable arc of these 11 tracks of skewed brilliance.
“It’s Change” is about as close as the album gets to a pop song. Featuring contributions from Katie Dey, Willy Siegel, and Julianna Barwick, it brims with manic energy reminiscent of early Grimes. Then, just as quickly, it dissolves into a haze of lo-fi hypnosis. Even at its most accessible, Disiniblud stays eager to surprise, pulling the rug out just when you think you’ve found stable ground. Fans of ambient soundtracks and field recordings will gravitate toward the brilliantly titled “as is most (bimbo it out),” where Nayar’s minimalist guitar weaves around haunted piano motifs to eerie, meditative effect.
It has to be said: Disiniblud saves its finest moment for the closing track. “My flickering gift to you” encapsulates the record’s delicate balance of introspection and grandeur, with Osaka artist Tujiko Noriko’s otherworldly vocals lifting everything skyward. It’s a fitting finale to a record that feels like an extended, transformative sigh. Strange, shimmering, and completely absorbing.
Albums that walk the tightrope between experimental and electronica often risk tipping into self-indulgence—or worse, plain boredom. But Nayar and Keith elevate each other’s approach. One anchors when needed; the other offers a calming balm when things get too frantic. Lucky for us listeners, their shared love of surreal cinema—and each other’s music—has resulted in a spellbinding listen. It’s a record that feels especially welcome in the strange days we find ourselves in now.
CONE Score: 78/100
Byline: Sam Walker-Smart