A trip through advertising sensations that haunt childhood memories and stick around forever. The Avalanches mine this concept imaginatively, even if the individual songs and overall flow sometimes fail to impress

The Australian plunderphonics group use commercial jingles and analog technology as a counterpoint to the false, grotesque fantasies generative AI induces

At 31 tracks in 52 minutes, it plays less like an album than like an evening of channel-surfing in 1998, with the remote in the hands of someone who has had a great deal of sugar

All these jingles, disk-drawer sounds, error parps and proprietary signatures might be the first elements they’ve used we can all relate to directly. Just another route to joyous shared experience

Patching in audio logos and advertising dialog without interrupting the dreamlike sampledelic flow, the Australian band’s new album summons nostalgia for the era of truly mass media

Structurally, this is chaos by design

The Avalanches sift through fragmented memories, advertising jingles and an unlikely cast of collaborators on a fourth album whose sunny exterior conceals a restless undercurrent

The outfit's fourth album explores nostalgia, childhood imagery, and the hypnotic power of modern advertising. As a commentary on consumerism, it's a fascinating achievement

It’s masterful because it feels like the last party before the end times

Mad, joyous and utterly absorbing, ‘No Bad Memories’ proves that more than two decades on, The Avalanches can still surprise, and still make a concept this heady feel like pure play

The album transforms obsolete technology and jingles into a euphoric exploration of nostalgia

The dance duo’s fourth album is their most eclectic and chaotic to date, for better and for worse

It still forms a cohesive whole, never wavering from the basic concept - no matter how disorientating and claustrophobic it may become