“Shoreline” is an atmospheric, stuttery bit of electronica with half-spoken lyrics that is evidently supposed to sound enigmatic and mysterious.
Evan Sawdey: I've been listening to Joe McBride's (aka Synkro) album for some time now, and it truly is a "lay in bed with the lights off and your headphones on" kind of trip. There's a lot of great mood, ambient texture, and walking-the-streets-at-night vibes going on, making it a pretty fascinating little item to drop in 2015. Unfortunately, "Shoreline" is definitely one of its lesser moments, a bit of flaccid post-Squarepusher beatmongering dressed up in ambient clothing. It's dark and atmospheric but also drab and uninviting. There are numerous great tunes on the full-length, but "Shoreline", sadly earmarked as a single, just ain't one of 'em. [4/10]
Chris Gerard: Manchester, England-based Joe McBride is the creative force behind the surreal electronics of Synkro. His debut album Changes will be available September 18. Featuring Robert Manos on vocals, “Shoreline” is an atmospheric, stuttery bit of electronica with half-spoken lyrics that is evidently supposed to sound enigmatic and mysterious but really comes off as dull and a bit unsure of which direction it wants to go. McBride has talent with electronics but translating that into actual songs that are impactful and memorable isn’t easy. [4/10]
Will Rivitz: I am unbelievably, unbelievably excited for Synkro's album in a few weeks, and I can think of no news I'd rather hear (aside from a promo copy of the album maybe landing in my inbox) than that a new selection from the LP is up for streaming. I'm so ready to let these overwhelming waves of sound pull me out to sea, and the stuttering breaks and jaggedly brilliant harmonies give way so perfectly to a half-time breakdown straight out of a lost ASC gem. I expect Changes to be utterly astounding, and "Shoreline" just makes me froth at the mouth a little more. [9/10]
Dustin Ragucos: It's nice to hear something that creates a world that's both cybernetic and expansive. At its start, there seems to be this sonic promise of something, for lack of a better word, epic. The mid-tempo vocals have the subtlety of someone doing a impromptu singing session in a train, not necessarily bringing discomfort due to its comforting maturity and smoothness. Each time "world can wait" is repeated, there's this expectation that the sounds will fluctuate and unleash a barrage of bass. Instead of fulfilling anything but comfort, the song drifts into its own abyss where nothing much happens, and if it were to occur, it might be too little too late. [5/10]
John Garratt: Ambient music with vocals is like spaghetti with a side of parsley. [6/10]