The music project called Trust was formed in 2010 by Canadians Robert Alfons and Maya Postepski, who – having been signed to Toronto’s Arts & Crafts label – put out a 2012 debut album of dark electronica which received a series of good reviews, including a pretty decent one from Pitchfork. Since then, Postepski left to pursue her involvement with electronic trio Austra, leaving Alfons to make Trust’s second album by himself. The result is a twelve song collection that will inspire nothing but an intensely jaw-breaking series of yawns, or perhaps the idea that maybe listening to Nickelback’s latest album isn’t such a bad alternative. There’s no point even analysing each song or pointing out high or low points; the entire record is one big homogeneous dull mess of beeps and blunt clicks that’s the musical equivalent of a spilled tub of yoghurt on a dirty pavement; you’ll have no interest in picking out the less shitty bits. One thing that Joyland achieves and must be admired is its ability to evoke a feeling of such utter indifference to every song; that and its lack of a single shred of memorable musicality in any form whatsoever. I’ve just listened to the full album twice in a row and I can’t remember a single second, other than the feeling that I’d rather be doing possibly anything else in the world other than listening to these songs. Alfons himself describes the album as “an eruption of guts, eels and joy”, but this album is about as joyless as music comes. (Create/Control)