His third album in two years, “Everything Was Beautiful And Nothing Hurt” sees Moby return to the style for which he is best known. The past two records – a brief dalliance under the name The Void Pacific Choir – were rampant, generally fast, cheap rackets that betrayed a bedroom Moby with a budget punk rock band, and songs that seemed shallow, quick, and short-lived, and this, is perhaps much nearer the Moby you might recognise. Still, everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, is perhaps the most disappointing Moby record in a long while ; it lacks the urgency of some of his other albums. You can argue that no Moby record is compelling, but here, this is easily the least urgent, the least demanding record he has made in ten years. The styles tend to veer to a mid-slow paced ambient drone, a relaxed sadness.

Whilst highlights are probably “Motherless Child” and “The Sorrow Tree”, this is by no means a record worth picking up : as an avid and loyal Moby fan, one who even stuck around during the dated nostalgia rave wasteland of 2008’s disappointing “Last Night”, this is a sadly serious cliffedge drop level in effort. Moby himself doesn’t even seem bothered or passionate by this, and its the sound of boredom – the sound of someone making music because he needs something to do with his days and his time, experimenting with a vast array of technology and coming up with nothing compelling. Hell, if the artist isn’t appearing that interested, why should I?

If you want something that sounds like the last few songs of “18” ; a knackered and generally exhausted melancholy then sure, you could go for this, but why? There’s already something like 22 Moby albums : you don’t need another one.