Some records are defined by the time and place of their creation, but Young Magic's piecemeal approach has the opposite effect. It doesn't sound like it came from a certain somewhere, but rather everywhere. And it's a surprisingly cohesive work considering that it was recorded in several different countries and sutured together from singles and B-sides that have been around since 2010. So yeah, Melt-- that's a great word for Young Magic's debut, but "blur," "smear," or "dissolve" would also be acceptable.
I suppose it goes without saying that Melt might inadvertently align itself with hyphenated genres many of you are looking to conscientiously avoid. It's a reductive, but not completely off-base, assumption. Sure, these tracks are underpinned by West African rhythms ("The Dancer"), Brainfeeder's non-quantized drum smacks ("Sanctuary"), and the stutters of dubstep ("Drawing Down the Moon"). But for all of the trio's globe-trotting origins (two are Australian ex-pats, one is a native Indonesian, and all have traveled to multiple continents), there's an introversion and physical distance which bring to mind kids looking for the perfect beat while hunched over samplers and laptops in their apartments.
But while the reverb is ample and the edges are soft, it's a choice more functional than fashionable, a conscious production decision to solder together disparate sounds into a textured whole. The rare times they're present, guitars are tremeloed and processed to sound like balalaikas as opposed to chorded instruments, and while the melodies are often pumped out by harsh, exaggerated synths, the percussion most often takes the tone of household objects-- rattling coins on "Sparkly", pitched water jugs on "Slip Time", alarm clocks and cell phones elsewhere.
It's a cushy listen, if not only always distinctive, particularly since the shorter tracks often amount to a cooled, deep-blue gelatin that holds the previously released singles together. But those three tracks instantly stand out less because of their familiarity and more because it's where Young Magic really leans into the listener rather than kicking back. Aggression isn't really their game, so the chain-gang lurch of "Sparkly" effectively starts Melt on a slowly menacing opening note, while the warped war chant of "You With Air" undergoes subtle digital damage that gives it tonal ambivalence. The centerpiece "Night in the Ocean" has a fairly self-explanatory title, but an accurate one-- at once pulverizing and pristine, it's an HD stunner amidst mostly Hipstamatic surrounding. These are also the best showcases for the interplay of Young Magic's vocalists: Melati Malay's coo flutters and glides as more of a shoegazey texture than a vessel for communication, and while certainly not as pretty, Isaac Emmanuel has something of a wounded half-rap that's ultimately more distinctive. Particularly when they trade off stoned mutters and airy ecstasy on "Night in the Ocean", you could imagine Salem, had they formed during the best semester abroad ever.
But Melt can just as easily be seen as pragmatic, offering solutions to questions left unanswered by some of the more disappointing trajectories taken by fellow indie psych travelers who once called NYC home: Are you a Yeasayer fan who instantly felt buyer's remorse the moment "The Children" introduced the wonky electro boondoggle Odd Blood? Wished High Places still sounded as, well, high as they did on their EPs? Just wanna see Here We Go Magic underwater? Melt has got your back. But those comparisons are every bit as useful for contrast-- you could get a sense of these bands' personalities beyond the manner in which they arranged their sounds, and it's tougher to parse what Young Magic have to say. Are Young Magic hippies? Naive adventurers? Shut-ins obsessed with looping pedals? Melt conjures these admirable comparisons while avoiding any sort of concrete answer, but ultimately Young Magic can aspire to more by letting us know where they're coming from in a figurative sense.
