If a meal is good, it’s worth making twice, right? That’s the approach taken by Krzysztof Wołek on his latest album Cookbook for the Modern Boygirl, where the song cycle is interpreted twice. The ingredients are straightforward: one girl (Agata Zubel), one boy (Chad Sloan), and a variety of electronic elements carefully assembled not simply to complement but also contradict each other. As for the recipe, that comes from poet Bunny Morris, in the form of seven texts exploring the body as a site of vulnerability and conflict.

Desire versus repulsion is the central tension running through the song cycle. Wołek accentuates this by atomising the vocal part, which doesn’t so much sing as gasp and stammer, its never-ending contortions enclosed in an atmosphere that pressurises the voice as much as it allows it to radiate.

Eruptions of sharp glitch fragments sound as both celebratory fireworks and shards cutting into flesh, playing into the songs’ continual blurring of food allusions with animalistic reflections on the body’s limbs, processes, sensations and fluids. As if to counter the challenges, the voice often resorts to overelaborate ornamentation, elsewhere receding into hissing whispers as if to hide from them.

The two interpretations are strikingly individual, Zubel leaning into frenetic histrionics, like an unhinged bird, Sloan into impassioned lyrical agonism. Though seemingly emanating from parallel universes, both versions unite in the impossibility of knowing what’s desperation or ecstasy, epitomising the fundamental instability of identity at the core of these dazzlingly visceral songs.