Arcadea ‘The Exodus of Gravity’ Review: experimental electronic trio featuring Mastodon’s Brann Dailor blasts off into the cosmos on sophomore album.
Arcadea’s self-titled debut back in 2017 was a wild tangle of prog-synth madness, like Rush and John Carpenter fighting inside an arcade game. Their new album The Exodus of Gravity (Relapse Records, August 22, 2025) tightens the focus, leans into thr groove, and cranks up the melody. The result? A cosmic carnival ride that’s just as strange as before, but more inviting and cohesive.
This time, Mastodon’s Brann Dailor fully takes over lead vocals (in addition to drums), and his soaring presence anchors all twelve tracks. The concept album’s storyline, featuring lyrics by the band’s multi-instrumentalist Core Atoms, unfolds five billion years in the future on New Arcadea, a planet losing its grip on gravity as machines awaken to consciousness.
The lyrics are as surreal as the music, but somehow relatable: in “Exodus of Gravity”, the line “Spinning weightless / Drifting shapeless / Phantoms with spasms inside myself” captures both the isolation of deep space and the human anxiety that results from it.
“Fuzzy Planet” is the euphoric highlight, a triumphant burst of warped synths and interstellar optimism. When Dailor sings, “Hug the night sky, kiss the moon goodnight… I’m falling back / The undulating surface pulls me back”, you feel the wonder and fragility of this new world. Closing cheers make it feel like a celebration beamed straight from another galaxy.
The heavier edge arrives on “Lake of Rust”, where Dailor’s vocals grow metallic and operatic. Opening with a distorted sample of He-Man’s battle-cry (“I have the power!”), it explodes into a synth-pop/metal hybrid. Lyrics like “Gravity pulls me down into sadness / And all turns crimson” give the track a dramatic, almost apocalyptic tension.
The band’s 80’s arcade game/funhouse soundscapes runs through “Shells” and “Sparks”, the latter layering carnival barker vocals with Latin percussion and spacey riffs. Prog leanings show up on “Galactic Lighthouse”, while “Starry Messenger” drifts into Muse-y synth washes and squiggly theremin.
“The Hand That Holds the Milky Way” feels like an emotional apex, with strings, powerhouse drumming, and Dailor’s celestial vocals reminding you why this band feels unique in both prog and electronic circles.
The album closes with “Planet Pounder”, a darkwave banger that feels like a sci-fi horror score brought to life. Through all the stylistic shifts, the eerie Mr. Bungle-esque carnival organ keeps things cohesive, and the lyrics anchor the story in emotion. Even when orbiting a world of machines and spores, Arcadea never loses the humanity threaded through the sci-fi backdrop.
With The Exodus of Gravity, Arcadea hit the sweet spot between synthwave, prog, and something intangibly other. It’s a record that’s as strange as it is inviting: space music you can both headbang and dance to.
