Much of the music one might compare to CFCF's debut album, Continent, leans on an external medium or function. Like a lush film score, theme for a forgotten Don Johnson TV pilot, or an unused in-house mixtape intended to fill intermission space, Continent at first seems like a throwback record that really opens up only in a specific time and place. And to a degree, that's to be expected coming from a self-professed film geek who is likely keener on the idea of chatting about Cronenberg than Kraftwerk. Michael Silver, the Montreal-based 21-year-old behind CFCF, has garnered a modest following as a producer and prolific remix artist (you might remember him as the guy who won that Crystal Castles remix contest with his ambitious reconfiguring of "Air War"). And Continent, a surprisingly confident debut, suggests that he's equally concerned with how his music sounds as he is with where it's heard.
As successful as Continent is at evoking mood using deliberate pacing and ripe textures, it also managed to wrap its meticulously pruned pop reticence around everything from hushed poser-disco suites ("Invitation to Love") to sexy, swoon-struck soft-rock grooves ("Raining Patterns"). Hell, there's even a great Fleetwood Mac cover wedged in there, too. Since it's so easy to lose yourself in these lithe, languid electronic ruminations, it's no wonder that nearly everything I've read about CFCF-- and more specifically Continent itself-- has focused on the cinematic characteristics in Silver's work. But fair may it be to categorize these dozen tracks as a series of very accomplished daydream canvases, Continent becomes a richer experience when looked at as independent of any peripheral distraction, with its pop-friendly attention-grabbers very much in the foreground.
There's a patient, reserved quality at work that will no doubt land Continent a few iPod gigs in chic bistros. But to water down these beat-bolstered two-steppers-- like the propulsive, joyous Mac cover "Big Love" or the Quincy Jones-styled funk-out "Half Dreaming"-- is to rob them of their inherent catchiness and accessibility. Often a little sad or playing to a kind of ethereal, out-of-body vibe, most of the memorable moments here are ones that are felt with the hips, not the head. And that's likely because these are, for the most part, unapologetically svelte tunes jam-packed with cues taken from body-high inducing ambient atmospherics, beatific house loopings, 70s AM Easy Cheese, and bubbly Balearic turns.
All of this might appear indicative of how we spent our 2009 summer vacation (see "chillwave"), and while there are unmistakable nostalgic underpinnings that help define Silver's music, it's never cloyingly obvious. Where artists like Neon Indian or Washed Out rely on instant gratification to transport a listener back to specific time or feeling, CFCF's music is less concerned with arriving at a discernible destination than it is with detailing the journey. These are lengthy tunes for the most part (a few of the best clocking in well over seven minutes), so it's easy to lose track of every fleeting emotion or quirky little melody that happens to float on by.
Indeed, large parts of Continent may be considered too cautious or circuitous for the casual listener-- Easter eggs like that Prince-in-the-driving-rain guitar solo on "You Hear Colours" or the patient, synth-soaked yearning that plays throughout "Snake Charmer" might not be able to so readily produce any real effusive payoff for some. However, by employing a bit of listener fortitude, you'll hopefully unlock the vibrancy that lies at Continent's core and defines it as the sure-footed, elegantly stated electro-pop record it most certainly is.
