For those looking forward to inertia. Cruel summer vibes just in time for the hopelessly out of touch romantics and their tawdry waterpark affairs. Leathered skin singed and sweating bullets, you can feel global warming breathing down the back of your neck and trying to steal your girlfriend. Remorselessly burnt by the sun, it’s scorching hot and you’re too high to remember why you’re here to begin with. Alone in a crowded pool, you order another daiquiri at the cabana and swallow the chill pill you were given earlier by that burner wearing sunglasses, who is now passed out on the inflatable shark near the deep end. Everything starts to blur as you sink into the water, and further into your own stomach.
Successfully quenched. Ross from Friends creeps into your head like a disease-carrying earworm, administering a certain kind of pulse that throbs and glistens. Siphoning beautifully flawed moments from the past blended together with an idiosyncratic vernacular to produce a subdued articulation of the present tense, crestfallen and drowning out. Warped at times, impurities are carefully maintained and calibrated throughout the mix. Leaving traces of tweeter-blown R&B stylisation personified by a murky, though elegantly lacklustre indifference, teetering between bedroom techno and hallucinating in an empty club.
Speakers submerged in water. Mediating strategically between consummate and low definition, an equal balance of tension is achieved with a refreshingly modest execution that is minimal and post utopian. Weaving together the disparate pieces of shattered dreams into an amalgamation of credibility that comes off a bit more nuanced than your typical acid flashback or moment of irrefutable déjà vu. Compositions are rendered beyond technical proficiency, all the while intentionally undermining an ability to execute seamlessly powerful moments of intoxication at the disposal of the listener. Chic and well-equipped dream-house that is brazen enough to make the walls melt, and you and your crew trickle down into a liquid gang of oversaturated colour.
7Stephen Proski's Score