Tomora’s Come Closer is an ecstatic love letter to 90s dance music

Before Coachella, Tomora wasn’t on my radar at all. It’s actually only by chance that I stumbled upon them — I opened the wrong stream because my TV was lagging like a MFer. I paused for a few moments, entranced by the two ethereal Nordic women banging on giant drums to a techno beat. I made a mental note to check them out the following weekend, because Drain was the priority (especially since the Sonora stage wasn’t streaming on weekend two). It was only later that I would find out that Tomora is a collaboration between Norwegian singer-songwriter Aurora and Tom Rowlands, one-half of the Chemical Brothers.

Suffice it to say, they were incredible, and I immediately checked out the record, Come Closer, after watching their week two set. Admittedly, the studio album can’t quite capture the ecstatic catharsis of the Coachella set (seriously, I need to see them live), but it’s still an incredible work. It’s a love letter to ‘90s European dance music, dabbling in big beat, trip hop, and techno.

After opening with a series of ghostly overlapping vocal drones, the title track kicks in, with an abstract purr of synths and Aurora chanting “come closer to me.” The song slowly builds, changing very little until about 1:55 mark, at which point Aurora belts out a wordless plea for human connection. Then the whole thing resets, and we get another build to the climax of the song — more of Aurora’s astonishing vocal runs over Rowland’s washes of buzzy electronics.

That’s followed by the trip hop-inflected “Boy Like You,” before finding full rave mode on the lead single “Ring the Alarm.” The relentless needling melody, the perfect sidechained kick and bass throb, plus the singular vocal performance render this an instant classic. “Ring the Alarm” might already be my most played song of the year, and I’ve only been listening to the album for two weeks.

“My Baby” and “I Drink the Light” feel like classic Chemical Brothers psychedelic plays for pop radio, living comfortably alongside “Let Forever Be”, “Wide Open,” and “Setting Sun” in Rowland’s catalog. In contrast to the live show, Tomora mostly lives in this lane on record. The songs may be dancey, but they’re rarely bombastic. Occasionally, they’re even slinky, as on the Massive Attack-esque “The Thing.” They leave plenty of room for Aurora’s harmonies and infections.

“Somewhere Else” and “In a Minute” are the only other pure four-on-the-floor ragers. But they’re both album highlights with gorgeous melodies that back up the beats. I challenge you not to dance your ass off to these songs.