by Germar Derron
This is the type of music that you have to hear live. But don’t for a second believe that the recording is in anyway flawed. It’s just that type of music. You can’t capture this in ones and zeroes. You have to feel it. From the first few bars, I wanted to grab a cold domestic. Then, I could very vividly imagine crescent shaped pearly whites and worn leather tapping. To really appreciate these tracks, I have to see that obligatory vein protruding from Jas Patrick's neck every time he stretches into his upper range.
No, this isn’t something that I’d pick up at wherever they sell CDs now. Itunes? Spotify? Pandora? But it taught me that my ears obviously needed a reprieve from the static thump-thump-thump of today’s digital based artists that dominate the millennial soundscape.
And though this is one complete piece of art, I appreciate the subtle distinctions present in each track. It’s clearly the same dude, but on “Inky Ovine,” the vocals hit highs unheard on any of the other tracks—pitch and polish. Some parts of some songs dwell in sparsity. Others are complex stacks of standard instrumentation. Both work.
The backing vocals in “Harpy” make it a stand out. I’d hoped to hear that throughout the EP. This sound is perfect for that warm choir-like blend or stack, and vocal harmony. But for most of the project, we get just Jas. Also, sometimes the vocals ride a little high or separate from the instruments. And it sounds dry throughout—or maybe a bit cold. It’s not that the vocal is unprocessed, it’s just lacking a certain needed warm round Lexicon drip (ask any super sound engineer).
If I heard any of these tracks on any radio station, I’d call them “okay.” But I feel like if I heard them at any venue, after tossing back a few, I’d tap and nod so hard that I’d be sore for days. So, if you’re thinking about downloading a track: first, buy a couple sixers of Duff; then, call over friends—pretty ones; finally, blast it through those Bose speakers that you paid too much for.