Before listening to Wait For Me, take everything you know about Moby as an electronica superstar and completely disregard it. Following a brief detour back to club music with 2008’s Last Night, this is arguably Moby’s most organic album recorded entirely his “bedroom studio” in his Lower East Side of Manhattan. Of course, Moby would be pained to remind you that his first decade’s work, including the multi-platinum Play, was recorded at home as well. That dichotomy of pop pariah perception and homespun reality is exactly what Moby is now trying to overcome, and Wait For Me, with its dark and occasionally obstinate presentation is the sound of an artist insisting that he’s not the character he played on TV a full decade ago.
Taking inspiration from a speech by director David Lynch (who created the album’s first video, “Shot in the Back of the Head”) about the commercialization of modern artistic creativity, Moby decided to compose a much more introspective, “mournful” collection to embodied a greater personal devotion to his work. The result is is sullen and foreboding, ominous and fragile. While it may be Moby’s darkest record yet, Wait For Me should, at very least, serve as an optimistic sign that Moby’s independent creative juices are still flowing.

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