In a 2011 Wire cover story on L.A. label Not Not Fun, Simon Reynolds called Dylan Ettinger's last album New Age Outlaws a "splendid swansong for hypnagogia." Whether the music should be called hypnagogic is an open question-- "I don't even know what that word means," Ettinger told me in March-- but it turns out the record was a kind of finale. He's moved on from its elongated, abstract sonic adventures to something more pointed-- the unabashed synth-pop of Lifetime of Romance.
Focused on shorter tunes with heavy beats, melodic loops, and the most singing of Ettinger's career, Lifetime of Romance is a decided departure-- especially for someone only in his early 20s. But connections to previous work do emerge. He's still fond of repetition, letting his cycles stretch past the ends of his vocal lines. He still builds layers of sound that intersect without smothering each other. Where droning chords and rippling arpeggios did that job before, now squiggly synth lines overlap with similar alchemy.
Ettinger also hasn't abandoned his knack for telling a story with his songs. The mostly instrumental New Age Outlaws was purportedly the tale of a futuristic cop battling corruption. On Lifetime of Romance, Ettinger's thematic intentions are clearer. These are tales of failed love, cataloging the frustrations and disappointments of relationships past. While it's not always easy to glean literal meanings, each tune oozes with barbed emotion-- a gothic angst that evokes the brood of Bauhaus and the catchier gloom of Gary Numan or early Depeche Mode.
What this album reminds me of most, though, is the Cure. Not in terms of literal sound-- Ettinger uses only synths and pedals, no guitars-- but in the way Robert Smith and company turn repetition into trance, without letting a structured song become a wandering jam. So where "Fascination Street" feels both like a pop hook and a mantra, so do Lifetime of Romance tracks such as the soaring Neuromancer-referencing "Wintermute" or the buzzing "Arco Iris". The result is music that's tight yet open, compact yet expansive. And Ettinger injects it with so much character that even his coldest grooves feel personal.
All of which leaves him in a kind of no man's land relative to his peers. He's certainly no longer classifiable as chillwave or hypnagogic (if he ever was), nor can he be lumped into a new New Age. Even on a diverse label like Not Not Fun, his sound stands alone. It's a good sign-- Ettinger seems willing to follow his own muse rather than fly where the wind's blowing. And even though Lifetime of Romance has its influences and antecedents, what impresses most is its individuality.
