Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith
Gush
Album · Electronic · 2025
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s steady evolution from the neo-New Age of albums like 2016’s EARS to the flirty effusions of 2025’s Gush actually makes a lot of sense: In every case, Smith comes off as a composer preoccupied with the bodily possibilities of synthetic sound, never mind whether that body is upright on the stationary bike, seated on the meditation mat, or supine on linen sheets. The clublike psychedelia of “Gush” and “Both” feel new for her, spurts of romantic attraction that coalesce into the pulse of something like love, but it’s her sense of play—of the celebratory, almost childlike possibilities behind her high-tech sound—that holds it all together (“Lay Down,” “The World Just Got a Little More Big”).
Gush
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s steady evolution from the neo-New Age of albums like 2016’s EARS to the flirty effusions of 2025’s Gush actually makes a lot of sense: In every case, Smith comes off as a composer preoccupied with the bodily possibilities of synthetic sound, never mind whether that body is upright on the stationary bike, seated on the meditation mat, or supine on linen sheets. The clublike psychedelia of “Gush” and “Both” feel new for her, spurts of romantic attraction that coalesce into the pulse of something like love, but it’s her sense of play—of the celebratory, almost childlike possibilities behind her high-tech sound—that holds it all together (“Lay Down,” “The World Just Got a Little More Big”).
