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Nathan Fake
Evaporator
InFiné - Cat No: IF1104STD
- updated:2026-04-28
Drawing on elements of IDM, progressive, and trance, Nathan Fake has spent two decades as one of the leading talents in electronic music — and now his new album arrives on 〈InFiné〉.
Track List
As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.
The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.
Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.
The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.
‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract.
There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.
The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.
Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.
The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.
‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract.
There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.
"Rising up out of the nocturnal underground spaces and rave catharsis of his past records, on Evaporator Nathan Fake resurfaces into the realm of daylight, conjuring the tangible sensation of air rushing against your face, big skies and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that ran through 2023's Crystal Vision is refracted here through a prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica and trance euphoria. Evaporator is what Fake thinks of as 'airy daytime music,' with each track registering a different barometer across the album's varied moods — vivid sunbursts, exhilarating rainscapes, and fine mists of clear melody. "It's not overtly confrontational electronic club music," says Fake. "It's very comfortable, very approachable. While I was putting the tracklist together, I was calling it a daytime album. It doesn't feel like an afterparty record." Over the past decade, Fake has quietly folded collaborations with heroes and friends into his solitary, singular working process. Border Community alumnus Dextro, aka Ewan Mackenzie, transforms the ferocious drumming of Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred chorus tones of "Baltasound." Meanwhile, "Orbiting Meadows" is a second collaboration with Clark, an eerily pastoral duet in which microtonal 18EDO piano klang slowly circles around wailing pads. Evaporator is a work situated at the meeting point of old technology and ever-fresh creativity for Nathan. Trusty "dinosaur"-era software, particularly Cubase VST5, has powered two decades of music and is almost never updated. "I used to feel slightly embarrassed about using such old software," he says. "But that's just how I do it. I love old tools and get the most joy out of them, though I'm bringing in new technology now too." When an artist builds up this much synergy with their instruments, making music becomes instinctive. As Fake explains, most of Evaporator was simply made off the cuff. The album title popped into his head at random ("it felt completely perfect. It's airy"). "The Ice House" offers a momentary glimpse into the sound world he hammered out in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint of jagged crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet weighty bass. "I just kept playing this riff I'd written out on the keyboard, over and over. The original track ended up really short. And then it's gone!" These unplanned flows of sound both evoke Fake's past records and perhaps get to the essence of his musicality. Opener "Aiwa" ("it's the most refreshing one," he murmurs) recalls the introspective sound that characterized Providence, while thrilling with the fire and hardness of Steam Days' textural experiments. "Hypercube" treads a similar chronological confluence, injecting relentless synth lines reminiscent of rave's golden age with the crackling, ecstatic energy of a modern festival anthem. Just as a liquid vaporizes into particles, everything Evaporator presents carries a mutational desire to be formless. The irradiated garage beat of "Bialystok" is pitched downward for a driving, bouncing effect, while "You'll Find a Way" warps stillness into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation before chords gradually erupt. This translates into a wider stereo field than anything Fake has explored before. "Slow Yamaha" saves the wildest, most kinetic transformation for last, with cymbal sibilance on the left, shaker rustle on the right, kaleidoscopic laser pulses and effervescence, a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums. Evaporation all the way down to purely excited atoms. In a world where music is increasingly becoming background content, making albums is Fake's lifeline: "It makes me realize how long twenty years really is! Twenty years is a long time! It's strange to see how much the world has changed. When I was a kid, the people making the electronic music I was obsessed with were so mysterious, and the artwork was so abstract. There was a great distance between you and the music, and that was an important part of it. These days being extroverted helps, and I'm not, but this is the first album with my face on the cover art. I'm very shy and I hate being looked at," he says. "But after twenty years, I thought I'd try something new. In a media world that favors people who are outgoing and seem interesting, I'm very lucky to have somehow survived. It's not my world, but somehow I'm still here." Evaporator continues to prove that Nathan is essential, delivering his most captivating, varied and magical music yet. (from the press release)"