Jeff Mills doesn’t just play music - he orbits it, bends it, sculpts it like gravity warping spacetime. With Spiral Deluxe, his freeform electronic jazz-fusion collective, he trades the rigid structures of techno for something more fluid, more human - a cosmic dialogue between musicians, unfolding in real-time. "The Love Pretender" is not so much an album as it is a snapshot of creative telepathy, a moment of collective intuition etched into high-fidelity soundwaves.

Mills, of course, is at the helm, but this is not a solo expedition. He is joined by Gerald Mitchell (Los Hermanos, Underground Resistance) on keys, Yumiko Ohno (Buffalo Daughter, Cornelius) on Moog synthesizer, and Kenji "Jino" Hino on bass, forming a four-piece constellation that moves like an intricate, jazz-infused solar system. Each element orbits the others in a delicate gravitational dance - at times chaotic, at times hypnotically aligned.

And yet, "The Love Pretender" is not an album about control. Quite the opposite: it thrives on surrender - to improvisation, spontaneity, the thrill of not knowing where a groove might take you.

Opening with "Society’s Man", featuring the late Sylvain Luc, the album immediately expands into deep space, where jazz-fusion guitar glides through warm cosmic currents, its laid-back California Coast feel subtly laced with nostalgia. It’s a fitting tribute to the guitarist, whose effortless touch adds another dimension to Spiral Deluxe’s sonic nebula.

Then comes "The Soloist", a masterclass in collective improvisation. Here, the musicians communicate in subtle shifts, nudging each other into new rhythmic terrains. It’s jazz without a roadmap, a conversation that never feels forced, only fluid, breathing, alive.

Elsewhere, "Uptown" (featuring Toku on cornet, trumpet, and flugelhorn) drifts into a post-bop groove, reimagined through an electronic prism. There are echoes of Miles Davis’ late-‘70s electric period, but filtered through a Detroit techno sensibility - it swings, it shuffles, but it never quite lands where you expect.

"Paris Roulette (Long Mix)" does exactly what the title suggests - it spins unpredictably, shifting gears, teasing form and dissolving it again. Meanwhile, "Shapeshifters" feels like a moody nocturnal walk through a city that only exists in dreams, its pulsating synth textures and warm keys creating the illusion of movement even when standing still.

Then there’s "The Drive", a track that never stops evolving, pushing forward in an almost cinematic fashion, as if scored for a film that has yet to be made. It’s futuristic, yet deeply rooted in jazz history - John Coltrane by way of sequencers and drum machines, a reminder that Mills’ futurism has always been grounded in tradition.

If "The Love Pretender" is about anything, it’s about trust - trust in instinct, in the unknown, in the idea that the best things happen when you stop trying to control them. The title itself seems to hint at this paradox: is all music, in some way, an act of pretending? A trick of perception, a fleeting moment given the illusion of permanence?

Yet, despite its improvisational nature, "The Love Pretender" never feels aimless. Instead, it carries a quiet confidence, a sense that whatever is unfolding is exactly what was meant to happen.

Jeff Mills has always sought to break boundaries, to explore the outer edges of music. With "Spiral Deluxe", he proves that the most exciting discoveries often happen not in meticulously planned compositions, but in the fearless act of creation itself.

This is not background music. This is an album to be immersed in, to be absorbed by, to be experienced as a moment of pure presence. It’s music that reminds us that sometimes the most thrilling part of any journey is not knowing the destination.

Score: 9/10 - Best enjoyed with open ears and an open mind.