There's an unmistakeable vibe on Active Child's Mercy -- insouciant and imperious, with Pat Grossi singing in a rich Michael McDonald-esque upper register over shimmering plastic guitars. The group began as a solemn project, a choirboy playing harp and singing in a feather-delicate voice over clicks, but as the project has drifted, Grossi has explored more escapist sounds. Mercy, surprisingly, feels like the soundtrack to a beach that is never too far away, so the taste of salt is still on your tongue. It sounds like...yacht rock.
"Yacht rock" probably isn't a tag any musician seeks out, since it carries more weight as parody or flat-out insult than genre descriptor. But there's something loose and happy to the energy, particularly on the album's first half: "1999" is built around mid-temp pianos and the soft clicking of unobtrusive percussion. "These Arms" boasts a slinking, slow-dancing drum line, as does "Never Far Away", where it pulses behind rounded, coke-straw guitars. The fried electronics of "Mercy" add a jolt to the slightly sleepy, all-around lushness. All of these sounds are secondary to Grossi's voice, which does not sacrifice body for altitude; operating in and around the falsetto, Grossi less resembles the fragility of How To Dress Well than the aforementioned McDonald. He has a strange way of condensing out of his chest voice into his head voice, like a rising updraft, and the split between the two is astonishing.
"Midnight Swim" marks the beginning of Mercy*'*s more active second suite; weird and crystalline, the song conjures an alien beauty—like jellyfish in underwater caverns—and rides a thin line of eeriness and pulchritude. From here Mercy takes a decidedly more dance-y turn, maintaining the relaxed vibe while amping up the tempo. "Temptation" is sexy, carried on the strains of organs in lieu of harps, one hagiographic instrument swapped for another. It's a stronger sound, yet still casual; like the album itself, it seems just shallow enough to wade into and just deep enough to linger awhile. Mercy is studiously lovely, like a brochure for paradise, and over its course it begins to feels like a sunset in Grand Theft Auto V: beautiful, but a replica.
