Moses Sumney came to the 2016 Pitchfork Festival with a guitar, some effects pedals, and not much else. He truly didn’t need more than his voice—a wafting, pitch-perfect falsetto that floats around space before tunneling deep into your soul. I remember watching his performance from the crowd, mesmerized by how he constructed such a gorgeous mosaic without over-the-top theatrics. Sumney stood up there alone, cracking a few jokes along the way, unpacking his methodical blend of electro-soul and folk. His vocals are so strong that he never has to form actual words; Sumney’s voice is its own instrument, a stunning mixture of Prince and Bilal, set against a rustic sonic backdrop the likes of Beck and Sufjan Stevens.
Over the past few years, though, Sumney hasn’t given us much to absorb. He’ll drop a song or EP here and there, but not yet a full-length album. But when Sumney does put out new work, it tends to stick with you: “Seeds,” a lo-fi campfire song, has a transformative quality that kicks in when the chorus hits. “How can I reconcile the seed/Once sown but never grown in me?” He follows the question with an exasperated moan, as if crushed under the weight of self-imposed pressure. On “Everlasting Sigh,” Sumney brightens the mood, emitting a regal aesthetic: “If you’re a god, made from a god/Let your whispered word be divine.” Sumney is an intricate writer who pens fiercely introspective songs, all of which play like the innermost thoughts of a fiercely private man. They’re sometimes weaved within layers of synthetic sound, forcing you to lean in a little closer to decipher the meaning.
On “Worth It,” a highlight of Sumney’s new five-track collection Lamentations EP, the singer takes on an alien-like quality, filtering his voice through a heavily-pitched vocoder to effuse a supernatural energy. The video is equally resonant. In it, Sumney mostly lurks in the shadows, reaching out toward a mysterious figure that he eventually holds in his arms. Despite the visual and aural effects, “Worth It” is a love song on which Sumney grapples with his own self-worth. “You accept all I do,” he croons, “but I don’t know if that is wise.” Sumney isn’t saying anything that hasn’t been said by other musicians, but when he sings it, his voice feels much closer to the words.
“Lonely World,” with its resounding bounce and layered wails, might be Sumney’s best song yet. It features Thundercat on bass but, in this instance, he disappears within Sumney’s majestic vocal arrangement. The song builds quickly, each note piled atop the next, composing a massive wall of noise. It’s the clear centerpiece of Lamentations, which in turn is an album that offers another brief glimpse into Sumney’s world. But in what’s become the norm for him, the music breezes by too quickly, leaving just another snippet of the singer's potential. Maybe that’s the idea? Who knows. Sumney is elusive that way.
