Mappo is a phenomenon. Its a record driven by sprawling emotion, effervescent ebullition and genuine authenticity, things that evoke a vivid imagery somewhere between despair and hope or affection and rejection without even understanding what those sexy French words mean anyway. Each measure feels like the unfiltered distillation of its notes and rhythms, as reverb-drenched arpeggios drip on moody bass tones like drizzling rain that soon will turn into the thunderous outcry of crashing cymbals and aching screams. And yet, every part of this record feels completely rounded, carefully thought out and comprehensively written. There are no signs of predictable crescendos, kitschy instrumental passages or overstated wailing that might illustrate the lyrical content or underlying theme well, but ultimately hinder the song in flow and its dynamic range. Instead, Mapp feels like an even symbiosis of exciting songwriting and emotive peaks whose love for detail is never affected by the heart-wrenching riffs and passionate vocal delivery.