electronic

Bittersweet Symphony (Arca, Arca review)

Posted on by Tim Kuefler

 

Let we forget, music doesn’t always have to have lyrics, and sometimes it’s even more beautiful when it does have lyrics, but we don’t understand the lyrics that we’re listening to. Because of language barriers.

Just something mull over in preparation of this week’s review.

Arca – Arca

released April 7, 2017
********* 9/10

 

Alejandro Ghersi, better known by his stage name Arca, is a Venezuelan electronic DJ, songwriter and producer. He has released three studio albums to-date, including the self-titled Arca (which I’m about to review). Ghersi has worked with artists like Bjork and Kanye West, so you know he’s legit.

Born into a wealthy family, Ghersi has previously lived in the United States and currently lives in London, England. His music is incredibly beautiful to listen to. Full of production value, interesting and complimentary sounds, and sometimes it is creepy as fuck too. Like that album cover, man does that ever give me the heeby jeebies.

This is the first album to feature Ghersi singing in Spanish, which is probably why it feels both foreign and familiar to me. I’m not completely without understanding of the French language, and there are some similarities between French and Spanish, plus my girlfriend understands Spanish, so I’d be remiss not to mention that. And I’m just going to out and say it, but I don’t know why electronic music is so capable of elevating itself to the same level as classical organ rich hymns, but Arca has managed yet again to entertain a strong reign over the spiritual, while upending it with his own battles of sexuality and identity.

Ghersi has been making music since he was young, and his dedication to piano as well as explorations of electronic landscapes have allowed him to transition from pianist, to synth pop teenage dream artist, to electronic guru.

Arca is a combination of those things, and also none of them. You can hear the pop throughout different parts of the album, and the amphitheatre effects are a credit of his technical training, but it’s when they are combined with his experiences as producer that we can see how the chaotic and vibrant sounds of electronic music can make this all work together.

I kind of hate to make comparisons, but it reminds me of the experiences I had listening to Sampha and his album Process a few month ago. The emotion is there, it is raw and visceral like when I listen to the track Child or Piel. There is humour found in Whip and simplicity within Coraje.

This is a soundscape and a place for intimacy. Ghersi admits that Spanish is the language he first learned to process emotion with, so it makes sense that we can feel the emotion in his lyrics when we listen closely, Anoche provides the most vulnerability that Ghersi is comfortable with.

I find myself oddly happy to be writing this post, because at first I thought I would have nothing to say about Arca and Arca. And yet, as I’ve mentioned this is an album without consequence of lyrics. Conceptually it makes me very happy to just enjoy the music and not get caught up in the intent, instead the production and emotion speaks clearly. I could see this being played at a club, in a performance piece, during a play, and even at an art gallery – it has that much range

Like an opera.

theories Summarized

 

Arc of the past few years would have expected you construct your own narrative from his work, but this time around, it’s all there on display for the world to take in and sit with. The majesty and the pageantry of sound that is Arca is both a backdrop and the main event. I don’t know you can listen to this and not be affected by it in some way, and I have this theory that no matter your personal outcome, Arca will get along just fine.

Tim!

A Confessional Space (Sampha, Process review)

Posted on by Tim Kuefler

There is space for soul music in the electronic genre. So much space for it that the music goes to great lengths to amplify our own souls. And yes it’s a lot to process, but it’s worth it, I know this.

 

Sampha – Process
released February 3, 2017
********* 9/10

Sampha is a UK Singer/Songwriter who lives in the worlds of soul, r&b and electronic music. With moody and beautiful tracks and an overwhelming sense of passion to boot. When it comes to emotional jams, I never know if it’s a really a cliche at mention tropes super early on in a review, but electronic music often gets dumped in with outer space, and yet Sampha knows how to combine that sensitivity in with heartbreaking melodies, beautiful piano sequences, and explosive instrumentation.

There is a fire inside these tracks and I don’t think there is a way to put it out.

With that mentioned, there are also a great many quiet moments rooted in the fundamentals of soul and r&b throughout, and opener track Plastic 100 Degrees Celsius sets it all up nicely as far as slowburner tracks go. Investigating his mortality through an unidentified lump, Sampha lets us know right away this is not going to be the typical self-gratifying album.

This is a guy who has collaborated with some of today’s most forward thinking artists. From Frank Ocean, to Jessie Ware, to Drake to 40. Not to mention both Beyoncé and Solange, and yes he’s made his voice known with Kanye too. Working behind the scenes, this guy has been actually been working on Process for years, a lot of it coming together while his mother fought cancer, and as a consequence it is gut wrenching to listen to.

A tour de force of production, sonics, and lyrics, Sampha has proved yet again that living in the alternative will do for R&B, hip hop and soul music exactly what it did for rock in the 1990s. Make them epic. This really has been a decade of emotion, process, and processing – Sampha and his piano, are at the centre of it.

Take in the track, (No One Knows Me) Like the Piano. It perfectly demonstrates this notion.

This is an album full of standout tracks, it’s hard to look at the whole without looking at the parts, as each song could be viewed on it’s own and dissected for hours. I kind of wish I had spent more time with it before I released this review, if I’m being perfectly honest. Maybe it’s that family weaves so clearly through each of the tracks and dovetails the message of going home when you need to with What Shouldn’t I Be?.

Sampha is haunted by insecurities just like any of us, Blood on Me proves it, but there is also warmth in his longings, wishing for more time with his mother on Kora Sings.

I especially enjoyed Take Me Inside and Under, which are explosive in their instrumentation while maintaining the pace of everything else surrounding them on the album. How he is able to clearly define both his image and perception of him is something due to patience and humility, and it’s in those two tracks, among others, where we see why the current greats have worked with Sampha.

It is both a process of musical production and of grieving, and it works excellently. An opportunity to join him in his own private world of sound, even as he feels stripped away from that which he knows best.

theories Summarized

It’s a weighty powerful album and invariably one of my favourites this year.

Process is an exercise in contemplation, one that demands you sit with it, come back to it, leave it alone for a while, and then binge on it over and over again, all the while daydreaming inside your own head. It’s incredibly intricate, and it’s a process all it’s own. My theory of course.

Tim!