Beatmaker, poet and designer, Mr Pigeons describes himself as a chameleon. It’s true, he’s almost endlessly versatile and sometimes you do have to look carefully to find him. Based in Berlin but with links to Zimbabwe and England, he has a slew of impeccable projects tucked away in different corners of the Internet. His tracks are like worlds to fall into, often dark and strange. When you come across one it can be a difficult space to stumble upon, but you’re always glad you found it.

‘Orange Light’ is no exception. Both sonically and lyrically raw, we hear Mr Pigeons picking himself and his art apart. Opener ‘Dr Strange’ pulls us into a sparse dystopian landscape of percussive abrasion. In the production each element is laid bare, instruments, voice and industrial sounds are introduced to each other, sometimes they compliment, sometimes they clash. We hear Mr Pigeons dissecting the musical machine to see how it works.

We find his voice full of doubt and anxiety, “narcissism is an artist’s prison/stubble won’t budge/mouth full of dust”. Exposed and vulnerable, we hear a confrontation of what it is to make art, the darkness and difficulty of finding a space for yourself amongst the self-doubt. The fragile honesty of the project can make for uneasy listening. But there is a real bravery that comes from challenging ego and musical convention. Crucial things are not always comfortable. Dr Strange’s repeated line ‘approaching the end’ which blends to become part of the beat, may seem like an unusual place to begin a project but it sets the transient tone of the EP. It looks inward but also moves forward.

Central interlude, ‘Danai’s House, holding a quietly epic, almost cinematic energy, marking a change in mood both sonically and lyrically. The production becomes fuller and warmer, the machines seem to work more quietly. The sense of forward motion continues on the jaunty ‘Ragner’, which carries us into the sumptuous ‘Butter’ with a gorgeous feature from Ivohé , another standout from Berlin’s underground scene. The richness of Ivohé’s voice contrasts with its narrative of betrayal, ‘baby I’m tired of this you can’t commit’. The track feels like submersion in warm water, a moment of relaxation, and suspension. You’ve become so lost in the melodic calm that you forget you’re in over your head.

The two voices are distinctive but seem to share the understanding of the vulnerability that comes from sharing yourself with another. A melancholy climax. We started at the end, but the track speaks of rebirth, “plant the seeds / feed me, feed me / fertilise fresh”, Mr Pigeons raps on the final bars of the project’s standout track. A blessing because ‘Orange Light’ leaves us wanting more from this chameleon poet.