Dance producers have a reputation for taking themselves very seriously (case in point) but Sepalcure are different. When I interviewed Travis Stewart and Praveen Sharma previous to the release of 2011's self-titled debut, the duo knocked back cocktails in the mid-afternoon while riffing on embarrassing screen names, potentially pornographic horror films, and, yes, the dance community's staunch seriousness. "You got to have fun up there, man," Sharma sighed after Stewart mentioned a negative review the pair received for "trying too hard" while opening for Jamie xx.
Indeed, while their level of on-stage enthusiasm may not be at the level of, say, Girl Talk, Sepalcure's sense of self-presentation differs from many in the bass music scene they're associated with, as they mouth along energetically to their own songs and frequently address the crowd (which very few DJs, for better or worse, care to do). Just before this past New Year's Eve, they ditched their originals-heavy set at a Manhattan gig for a solid hour-plus of euphoric house music; a year previous, the energy (and potential for clumsiness) at a performance at Brooklyn's Cameo Gallery was at a level that, for a minute, their sound system shut down, prompting some sheepishly enthusiastic apologies from the duo before things whirred back to life.
Sepalcure do very well with nightlife crowds of varying pretension, but their debut album's greatest selling point was how well it translated to the home-listening set. Sharma and Stewart inhaled a few different sub-genres of dance and expelled a romantic sound that approached pop (for bass music, anyway), fulfilling the promise of their early singles to create music that fused hard-hitting rhythms with pastoral touches and pink-cloud ambience. Their aesthetic had arrived confidently and fully realized, the work of two decade-plus veterans who, individually, finally found a distinctive sound by joining forces.
Last year, Sepalcure released a single for album cut "Eternally Yrs" that featured a new song along with a smattering of remixes, but Stewart and Sharma have suggested that, since the duo is separated by an ocean (Sharma's New York-based, while the somewhat nomadic Stewart currently lives in Berlin), there's no guarantee of the project becoming a long-term fixation. New EP Make You, then, is a welcome treat in existence alone, suggesting that, despite Stewart's relatively high profile due to work with Harlem pop-rapper Azealia Banks as well as his recent signing to electronic mainstay Ninja Tune, Sepalcure are still very much alive.
In addition to re-asserting their presence, Make You confirms that, at this point, Sepalcure aren't as concerned with growth as they are with refinement. The title track is a summation of what they do very well, as deep, belly-rumbling bass, a fragile percussive backbone, and evocative vocal samples coalesce perfectly before a fingerpicked acoustic guitar figure drifts into the mix. "The Water's Fine" elaborates on Sepalcure's slight fascination with juke's hypnotic stutter, as woozy synths and a pile of tangled vocal cries are washed in static and hung out to dry. "The Water's Fine" also stands as one of a few examples on Make You where Sharma and Stewart subtly expand their sound-- not in style, but in scope, as they allow plenty of space between the track's elements and make for one of their most emptily dense works yet.
If "The Water's Fine" represents Sepalcure dialing back their soft-focus tendencies in favor of something more sparse and direct, then "He Said No" finds the duo reaching total sensory overload, with dreamy keyboards and a twinkling sense of optimism resembling a hi-fi, bass-friendly version of Balam Acab (whose "See Birds" stood as the odd man out on Sepalcure's otherwise club-ready XLR8R mix from 2010). "Rumours" is something else entirely, as a whiplashed vocal sample gets chopped up and buried by atmospheric pressure before bubbling up to the surface again. Then, things change halfway through the tune, as the structure takes on a beguiling new shape with dark, piping tones and a percolating rhythmic bed swathed in ambient hiss.
By the time a few synths and manipulated vocal samples meander in, "Rumours" has completely changed, highlighting Sepalcure's undervalued ability to take listeners on a journey, regardless of whether they're on their feet. Similar to Sepalcure, Make You closes with contemplative ambience-- the fingerpicked guitar and dotted horns of "DMD"-- and although the EP's cohesive potency is can't match its predecessor's, the attempt to fashion a narrative underlines the duo's attention to detail. (One wishes that Stewart's Machinedrum, with its steady stream of ephemera, possessed this much quality control.) Sepalcure are still intent on having a good time, but as Make You's elegant expansiveness suggests, they're dead serious, too.
