British songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Tom Vek popped up in the mid-2000s as part of a wave of clever, twitchy, studio-centric punk-funk acts following on the early success of the Rapture and DFA. He wasn't necessarily part of that scene, but he benefited from having a fashionable context, and so his debut album, We Have Sound, was a modest success. After that record, Vek essentially disappeared from the pop landscape as he went about setting up his own studio and gradually piecing together his second album, Leisure Seizure.
Waiting six years to follow up a debut record is not usually a good move, but it has worked out well for Vek. Since indie music fashions have moved on since 2005, he no longer comes across as being part of a larger trend, and his idiosyncrasies are more apparent. He's dropped a lot of the post-punk tics of his debut, but his emphasis on rhythm remains, with nearly every track built around a crisp, precise beat. His compositions are neat and tidy; he cycles through textures and sounds but avoids clutter and unnecessary doubling of parts. There's a ruthless efficiency to his music that can be very attractive, but even at his best, Vek sounds like a producer just on the verge of finding his own distinct style.
Vek's voice, often flat and heavily accented, is alternately one of the most appealing and most off-putting elements on Leisure Seizure. He's very good at affecting a petty, bratty tone, and this suits the bitter, confrontational character of album highlights "A Chore" and "Aroused". Vek has a limited vocal range, but it's obvious that he's put a lot of thought into how to play to his strengths and switch up his technique. At some points he exaggerates his flatness for effect-- for one particularly successful example, he drags out his syllables over the swinging beat of "We Do Nothing" to convey a sense of boredom. He's most compelling when he employs a sinister singsong on "A Chore" and the semi-rapped "World of Doubt", casting himself as something of an antagonistic presence.
Unfortunately, Vek's voice outstays its welcome by the middle of the album. Leisure Seizure is front-loaded with its best material, such that the second half of the record becomes rather tedious. "Close Mic'ed", a slow-moving ballad, is an admirable experiment in pushing for greater range, but his voice just isn't fully suited to the material and ends up spoiling the track's subtle dynamics. Other cuts on the second side, such as "You Need to Work Your Heart Out" and "On a Plate", just feel overworked and uninspired. There's a spark missing on these numbers, and the most exciting elements of Vek's style become grating as a result. It doesn't spoil the high points on the album, but it does make us yearn for a more consistent and fully realized Vek record. Hopefully we won't have to wait until 2017 for that.
