"I was working, tried my hardest," Ryan DeRobertis, aka Skylar Spence, sings on Prom King’s disco-tinged ode to self-love "Can’t You See". "Slowed some music down and called myself an artist." The lyric is a recognizable jab at the musician’s own past, a career built on choppy dance remixes of pop songs labeled as "experimental" or "vaporwave," collected and stacked up like bricks in a well-supported corner of Bandcamp.
But now DeRobertis has made moves to ground himself. He signed to Carpark Records, ditched his previous corporation-provoking moniker, Saint Pepsi, and started singing himself instead of simply remixing others voices. While "Can’t You See" is directed at grabbing the attention of a girl, as DeRobertis’ first statement on the record it's pointed just as much at his fans. And Prom King is his slickest project to date, brimming with as much confidence as its title suggests. This is dance music that’s almost a late-'00s throwback, with the record’s synth arrangements and affinity for Chic basslines more in line with the early music of artists like Miami Horror, Neon Indian, and Cut Copy than what clubs are playing now. No bass drops, no house revival, no costumed persona; this is highly warped nu-disco that’s frantically aggressive in its pacing and composition.
Prom King vibrates at all times with hyperactivity. On songs like "Cash Wednesday" and "Bounce Is Back" it sounds like someone restlessly flipping between radio stations, with violins, new wave synths, and fluttery sampled R&B vocals rolling into one another. "My album is sort of about the narcissism that comes with nostalgia," DeRobertis said in an interview. "You have to have some sort of audacity to claim a certain time as ‘the best’ and throw out everything in the present and everything in the future."
In this sense, Skylar Spence isn’t making pop music, but making music about pop. You don’t just hear it in how he mixes his songs, but also in how he writes them. "Oh darling, won’t you believe me," DeRobertis’ sings on the infectiously groovy, "Degrassi"-referencing "Fiona Coyne", first released as a single last year. "I’ll love you ‘til the record stops." And every "I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love" on "Can’t You See" is directed at his own reflection in the mirror.
DeRobertis could plausibly have built an album of could-be radio hits like "Fiona Coyne" if he toned down the freakiness of the music beneath him, but that doesn’t seem to be his objective. The spliced-together samples and glitchy collages makes Prom King distinctive, although sometimes it feels over-indulgent. Even with DeRobertis’ distanced, conceptual take on pop nostalgia, he's still made a great pop record in itself. It doesn’t matter what noises or instruments he’s appropriating from, in his hands it’s all good to dance to right now.
