Perturbator is a project that crosses borders: though near-everything about records like ‘Dangerous Days’ and ‘The Uncanny Valley’ screams synth-wave, the French producer often finds himself gaining favour in alternative circles, and even with metalheads across the globe. Not unlike a group like Nine Inch Nails, James Kent straddles the line between accessibility and sheer industrial chaos, packing each album with dance beats and thunderous crescendos in equal measure. Though 2025 sees Perturbator bucking some trends, one thing remains clear— ‘Age of Aquarius’ stands at the pinnacle of its genre.

Compared to its predecessors, Kent’s new release dials back on the furious drum loops and pounding synth hits: these eleven tracks tend to be steadier, skulking through atmospheric ambience towards their next climax. Opener ‘Apocalypse Now’ is a spot-on tone-setter for the record, slowly introducing the complex synth tones and mysterious melodies that come to define ‘Age of Aquarius.’ Kristoffer Rygg (of Ulver) handles lead vocals on the cut, bringing even more emotional depth to this despairing number— his wearied delivery of “the war to end all wars” fits the song’s surprisingly catchy chorus about as well as it does its deafening final leg, steeping both in a quiet despair. Much of the record falls into this liminal space, where the record is booming and overpowering, yet always feels reserved and despondent at the same time. Just take ‘Venus,’ which bounces its decidedly heartbreaking lyrics and overall mood off a sound portrait full of crackling synths and agonising harsh vocals (from Tristan Shone of Author & Punisher): the way ‘Age of Aquarius’ rides that knife edge is honestly jaw-dropping.

Such an accomplishment wouldn’t have been possible without some top-of-the-line sound design, which is why it’s so reassuring to listen to Perturbator: the sonic threads this man can weave transform into only the richest of tapestries, and Kent’s 2025 output is no exception. The record shows absolutely no fear when it comes to distorting and destroying its various core elements, as demonstrated by the crushing synths that come careening in on ‘The Glass Staircase:’ nothing is off limits if it’ll make the song bolder, bigger, more all-consuming. Every snare hit on lead single ‘The Art of War’ sounds like a gunshot going off, making this one of the most arresting cuts here— Perturbator will, always, make you move when he wants you to. On the other side of the coin though, Kent takes to the gentle themes of ‘Hangover Square’ like a duck to water: the way the saxophone wanders in and out of those floating synth layers is simply magical, and comes as a much-earned respite among so many intense moments.

‘Age of Aquarius’ does a little bit of everything across its full hour of material, wrapping the entire package up in sweet sweet melancholy— this is the most beautiful Perturbator album to date, going to great lengths to establish and maintain its thick, evocative atmosphere. ‘Lady Moon’ is like an out-of-body experience, sure to turn even the most mundane of days into something stylish, dangerous and neon-lit: Greta Link’s vocals are absolutely divine, with her repeated refrain of “and you say a little prayer, but it won’t save you” scoring a crescendo more wondrous than it is loud. The closing title track— a ten-minute colossus featuring the likes of Alcest— pulls off a similar effect, indulging in the synth-equivalent of an angelic choir to close the album out on its single most powerful note. Of course, the song probably didn’t need to build for quite that long, and poor pacing might be the greatest sin ‘Age of Aquarius’ is guilty of in places: when the next passage of pure bliss is always so forthcoming though, it’s an easily forgiven flaw.

Perturbator has evolved significantly since he put out a hit like ‘Future Club’ more than a decade ago: nonetheless, it’s reassuring to see that Kent’s knack for furious percussion and endless rhythmic displays remains as sharp as ever. ‘Lunacy’ is a shot of pure adrenaline in the record’s first leg, driving its way through wave after wave of synthesised mayhem. The cut is absolutely a fan-pleaser, though its serene melodic lines and generally clean presentation do wonders to blend the song in amongst its peers— for all the sounds that ‘Age of Aquarius’ toys with, the record always manages to tie its ideas together. The likes of ‘12th House’ and ‘Mors Ultima Ratio’ will both scratch that dance music itch, even if the overall impression they leave couldn’t be more different from one another: the latter, in particular, may be the most apocalyptic on the entire record. Perturbator’s sound has come a long way here, and yet no fan has been left behind in the process of that evolution.

Sometimes, an album just clicks for you: for us, ‘Age of Aquarius’ is such an obvious thumbs-up that it’s difficult to expand upon that thought. The album deals in such weighty and timely themes as individualism in the face of rising global tensions, yet somehow manages to elevate even those ideas. If you have any interest in synth-wave, or just in music that pushes boundaries in terms of writing, production or presentation, you owe it to yourself to become a fan of Perturbator post-haste. ‘Age of Aquarius’ is transcendent: it is the album you need right now.