Some performers start playing it safe when the stages get bigger. Not Kieran Hebden—better known as Four Tet—the heady, tasteful, crate-digging producer who has taken his new arena-sized crowds as an opportunity to confound, delight, and troll. Behind the decks, there’s no move that’s taboo, no track that’s off-limits. A decade ago, that meant raising eyebrows by going back-to-back in the booth with Skrillex, Now that he and Sonny Moore have become an Odd Throuple with Fred again.., the BFFs’ B2B2Bs are Hebden’s opportunity to further subvert whatever you might have thought Four Tet is supposed to sound like. At Madison Square Garden, he dropped a mischievous minimal-house edit of Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” that he’d cobbled together for his daughter. At Coachella, he used the intro to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” as the setup to an absurdist punchline: Hol!’s “Country Riddim,” a dubstep anthem featuring a cartoonishly garish drop. (Hebden loves that song: At the trio’s surprise Times Square gig in February 2023, he unleashed the tune again—and then spun it back to the top of the drop, just to savor its ridiculousness.)
But however unpredictable Hebden might be on stage, on record he’s as reliable as they come. Three is his 12th solo album, give or take—the proliferation of live recordings, early-works anthologies, shadowy side projects, and experimental longform excursions complicates the count—and it embodies everything that has come to define Four Tet over the years. There are shuffling UK garage rhythms and moonlit pools of ambient, heavy-lidded head-nodders and floor-filling rave-ups, hand-carved breakbeats and harps, harps, and more harps.
A few years back, I found Four Tet’s consistency on his albums frustrating; I longed for him to switch things up, throw the occasional wrench in the works. I wondered, with 2020’s Sixteen Oceans, if he was getting boxed in by his formula. But on Three, the familiarity is welcome. The record is less experimental than 2020’s Parallel, which collected the 2-stepping club tracks and atmospheric experiments of his alias ⣎⡇ꉺლ༽இ•̛)ྀ◞ ༎ຶ ༽ৣৢ؞ৢ؞ؖ ꉺლ. But the trim, eight-track album is smartly sequenced and nicely varied, taking in virtually every style of music that Hebden’s made over the years—house, downbeat, hip-hop, and more, all given the customary Four Tet slant. Most importantly, he sounds energized, as though all that mischief-making behind the decks had taught him new twists in old tricks.