Boards Of Canada fans who had waited patiently for new music for 13 years were finally rewarded in 2026 with the duo’s fifth album, Inferno. At 70 minutes of chill electronica, it shows a more mature yet less subtle growth of the band’s sound, and it promptly made almost every Best of 2026 list and more than a few comments on such Facebook articles.
Is it worth the hype? One could argue that an album with a 13-year wait comes with unrealistic expectations; either you convince yourself it’s awesome because you waited so long, or you expect perfection and get made when it fails to deliver. One has to take the album on its own merits without the weight of history, and on that note, 
Inferno is a fine but not mind-blowing effort.
There is definitely a cinematic grandeur to the tracks, many of which slowly groove and pulsate to musical themes that are sometimes expansive and sometimes dark. You could easily anticipate many of these tracks on the soundtrack to a horror film during a suspenseful part or even the opening credits, such as the eerie “Memory Death” or the jittery pulse and occasionally atonal keyboard stabs of “Arena Americanada” that leave the listener feeling quite unsettled.
Whereas before BOC may have reached backward for inspiration, Inferno is very much an album of the moment, and it rewards repeated listens; unlike much electronic music, the songs don’t drag on for too long and the subtleties work their way into your skin. “Into The Magic Land” is probably the best example of this, with “Naraka” a close second, the latter being a slow-building world music pastiche of sorts. And then something like “Somewhere Right Now In The Future” comes along, all ghostly keyboard swirls and no beat, and you find yourself looking over your shoulder when walking down a dark hallway.
The vocal samples leave something to be desired, such as on “Father And Son,” the annoying “The Process” and the even worse “Age Of Capricorn.” Those who like BOC’s older sound may dig the slick synths of “Hydrogen Helium Lithium Leviathan” and “Prophecy At 1420 Hz,” both of which open the album and trick the listener into thinking that Boards Of Canda haven’t moved on since the late ’90s.
Though one may wish for a little more excitement and a little less slow-keyboard creepiness in the sound, overall Inferno leans toward compelling and thoughtful with a propensity for working its way into one’s head at its infrequent best. Shame it’s not more consistent and that the vocal-sample tracks drag down the proceedings, but fans who have waited a long time—or newcomers who are curious—would do well to check this out.