You know those music writers who twist meaningless metaphor around meaningless metaphor in a futile attempt to recreate the music on paper? Wander/Wonder is basically that kind of reviewer’s wet dream. But it also a bear-trap for anyone who thinks they’re going to slide along without using the word “arrangements” – dammit Pitchfork, wtf does that even mean?!? So I’m going to try my best not to fall into douchebaggery and be completely straightforward about this intensely beautiful album.

Balam Acab (Harry Potter spell? Really nasty skin problem? Name of a Somali Pirate King?) is a 20-year-old producer who’s managed to express himself emotionally in more ways than I’ll be able to when I have grandchildren. Alec Koone’s music is 100% abstract electronica; he floats somewhere between instrumental hip-hop producers like Clams Casino and the R&B-infused rhythms of How to Dress Well. (As you might expect from most ‘intelligent’ electronic music, his songs are awash with stretched out, ethereal vocals.)

All right, I can’t hold it any longer; I’m bringing in the over-extended metaphors. If Bon Iver’sFor Emma, Forever Ago brought with it the sounds of a lonely log-cabin, Balam Acab takes you to a dark secluded cave and tells you not to come back until you’ve gazed at the stars, stubbornly resisted the morning sunlight, and thoroughly indulged every nostalgic fibre in your body.

If you know what Pitchfork writers are talking about when they say “arrangements”, tweet me @kadhimshubber. If you’re similarly dumbfounded, tweet something irritating and boorish @pitchforkmedia. Better still, tweet @thebalamacab and say “thanks for the sweet album, bro!”