Amazingly, our first use of the word “cronut”…
[Video][Website]
[5.50]
Micha Cavaseno: SBTRKT is an interesting figure when you consider he was instrumental in the passing of the UK scene from the murk and mire of dubstep’s battle with funky’s brash hip-flash of life into the yawn-inducing sagas of future garage to the current weird amorpho-house that London is churning out. Do I blame him entirely? No, because despite his ease in acquiring celebrity guests to bolster his tunes, there was always a playful razor’s edge to some of his work. Listen to him turn the toy grime of Tinie Tempah’s “Pass Out” into a track that’s equally bouncy and road as all hell. You can’t get that from the bland nerd faces of Disclosure, I’m sorry. So to hear him recruit Ezra of Vampire Weekend, for a mission where they re-envision David Essex’s “Rock On” getting dissected and reassembled by Liquid Liquid, providing the first song by NY hipsters about New York that sounds less like coke parties in Williamsburg on a Friday night than the pneumatic senses of a homeless man’s ragged days beneath those infernal lights that never stop? Yeah, I’ll take it, and then some.
[9]
Anthony Easton: A hot asphalt late summer ode, dumb and cryptic, but with pretty much perfect vocals.
[8]
Josh Love: Really tests my theory that I’d happily listen to Koenig sing the phone book, or at least a Cheever short story. This is practically Ezra Koenig Mad Libs, with its unilluminating references to Israelites and Manhattan and allusions to the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center, like something Koenig scribbled down on the back of a napkin in between bites of his cronut. That said, I’d still be willing to buy in if the music wasn’t even more lacking in purpose or direction. Rostam Batmanglij, you’re officially forgiven for Discovery.
[5]
Iain Mew: If you made a song like Vampire Weekend’s most cryptic, most punk songs, and slowed it down and took out all the melody and energy, you would… why would you ever do that??
[3]
Will Adams: Like my own prequel to “Vermillion,” when the city throbbed enticingly with near-surreal images of gargling gargoyles while drums clattered and oil bubbled up from underneath; a city that loomed ominously but from which I couldn’t quite look away.
[8]
Hazel Robinson: Do they have gargoyles in New York? I ask because I can’t really imagine them. But this is awesome, muttered, chaotic nonsense, the hubbub of a party full of in-jokes that you’re just in on enough to be laughing at.
[8]
Josh Winters: A hallucinogenic romp through the urban jungle, with Ezra spitting out his usual gobbledygook as a cast of nightcrawlers accompany him on his walkabout.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: New Jersey, dull blursy. New Haven, unshaven. New Paltz, such putz.
[1]
David Sheffieck: I appreciate Koenig’s willingness to do features, some of which — like 2009’s “Warm Heart of Africa” — are both genuinely great and the equivalent of signal-boosting a lesser-known artist. Neither quality is apparent here: Koenig begins the song in strong form, but as soon as the reverb drops and he starts chanting he sounds out of his depth. He never recovers, and while SBTRKT’s production has some interesting touches that suggest found sound, they’re not enough to propel the song beyond its non-starter of a singer.
[5]
Alfred Soto: The rattling and rolling beats, big fat bass, and FX are the stars, and Koenig obliges with a “fun” vocal that verges on the cloying, notably when his voice cracks.
[6]
Patrick St. Michel: Almost saved by the way Ezra Koenig’s voice gets warped and the generally skittery beat…but geez, this is just an incredibly corny David Byrne impersonation.
[3]
Scott Mildenhall: No idea what you’re on about Ezra (though the actual title of “Diane Young” took about 100 plays, so that might not be your fault). The habitually shaky pots-and-pans percussion is nice, but rubs against everything else awkwardly. The disjointedness isn’t all that enjoyable; “Carby” and the Basement Jaxx mix of “White Sky” are much more fun.
[5]
Brad Shoup: Koenig’s definitely the dude who’s studying Evernote on the car ride to Hot 97, but he can definitely #getit here, even if he’s talking Lower East Side gallery nonsense. SBTRKT conjures alleys and Latin parades, all percussive echo and shadowy bass.
[7]
Rebecca A. Gowns: This is what the stream-of-consciousness of a total dork sounds like. New Dork? No, nothing here is new.
[1]