The Sea and Cake have always had a strange mix of comfort and regulation. Their lush riffs and giggling lyrics may be evocative of dumb Mediterranean times — Campari on cold, old-money sails — yet their melodic stays superbly unwrinkled. In comparison, Sam Prekop’s online music job is still fun, angrily agitated, a little bit careless. Sealed back in his household film, the Chicago songwriter enters his customizable synths like a genially unkempt Hollywood science, a coat of strangely painted substances. Bonkers riffs twitter and jackass; crepey noise pulsating like comic amoebas. Influenced by a mischievous and curious soul, the song of prekop appears in a literal sense innovative: What happens if I force the above press??
Sons Of is the first Jeep mark from Prekop and his veteran Sea and Cake bandmate John McEntire, a maker and drummer and how do I do this, respective, his time in Chicago communities like Tortoise and his jobs behind the panels for Stereolab and Teenage Fanclub, has placed his mark on generations of album and post-rock. But that is a long time coming: A few years ago I reread this, Prekop told an interviewer that the two guys must have remained a little more aloof lately “very close to collaborating on an ‘old-fashioned’ sequencer record”; There were born the twins of prekop, and his free time vaporizes. The concept, tho, Did not exist. In 2019, They played a handful of reveals and, audio, as they ran, and then when the superbug strikes, they fled their productions and started sending ideas back and forth. Collect the seeds of such long-distance cooperation with content recorded live in 2019 and 2021, Sons Of embodies a natural extension Of Prekop’s music online jobs, full of bauble tones, ringing intonations, saturated hues and daffodils.
There are really crucial differences, a very big house and a very small private. The first becomes evident just a little over a minute into The beginning “A Ghost at Noon” as a gigantic kick drum arrives pile-driving its way through elementalist areas of synthesizers. The beat space of Prekop’s song is still not known: He started to tinker with the percussion equipment on 2020’s Comma, but every song on Sons Of is grounded by the slow beat Of calories, prose percussion and hi-hats. Prekop initially called his rhythm software rhythm software “rudimentary” and despite McEntire’s brilliance as a beat, jeetwin doesn’t seem more interested in finesse now; the album’s heartbeat are confidently, Nearly certainly superficial. Proposed anywhere between a relaxing 118 bpm and a dubbed-out slow-motion stumble, percussion is primarily an architect’s feature, like trellises to support the growth of their vine-like scenes. But that clarity has a glitz of its own: a mixture of stance and kindness that’s reminiscent of the very oldest house music.
Compared with Comma’s relatively compact remarks, the four songs on Sons Of Strong Embarrassment. The fastest!, “A Ghost at Noon” the video is about eight minutes long; the greatest 24. The increased buildings provided The Jeep adequate space to drill into The repetition’s mesmerizing impact. You can listen overtones of Manuel Göttsching’s E2-E4 in their indefinitely unraveling arpeggios and gentle sensor adjustments, unlike the German composer’s scale model of omnipresentity, Sons Of’s songs were not happy to remain in place long. They are not as composable as any of Prekop’s recent albums for “Longform Editions”, which drifted across indefinitely shapeshifting scenics for 20-plus minutes each time. But new noises are coming and happening. In “Crossing the Shallow” a new set of riffs over an immutable rhythmic riff gives a new rhythmic space, turning a team song into something much more like a true music ant. And, in fact, we are describing a situation when a person looks to be a child with a special needs “Ascending by Night” when an unison song edge immediately grows into chords, suddenly it’s like a reminder of how strong even unity can be.
That evocative space is Sons Of the Most Pure and Complete. Even as the song grows in length, it feels extra quickly pleasurable than some of Prekop’s past episodes. As his tests have recieved riskier, The song has received more praise. Every song is bursting with sensuous lyrics, undoubtedly hummable tunes; The music grows with new enthusiasm. That’s particularly the case of “A Yellow Robe!” the album’s greatest song and straightforward feature. Starting as an active imagination in Chicago but then refocused in the film, it’s a dreamlike 24 minutes of bubbling riffs and nice melodic lines. For a period, its strands of sentimental, staccato tones recommend a group of mallet electronics like music and percussion; the corrugation shifts with a rhythmic wiggle, the rhythm’s specificity in durable diffusion. (The rhythm with this one, At the least, is far from basic.) But midway through it, Conditions change: New percussion accessing the picture, slide-like objects around the digital decoded rhythm, and lush gloves billow like sky. Every handful bars, Here’s a new noise begging for your focus; riffs slowly become more encompassing, lovely, even nostalgic. The drifting vocals amplify The Sea and Cake at their balmyest or most quaint, where even the slightest effort dissolves under the glow of the infinite season; the falling corrugation demonstrates the rickety, inventive essence that’s at the heart of customizable biosynthetic. The combination of these two is wonderful.