Mystery is a difficult illusion to maintain these days. A few artists are trying-- by providing only vague geographical information, crafting webpages consisting of blurred video, and other heavy-handed approaches to mystique-building. Vondelpark takes a more bold-faced approach to the lack-of-personality game; no videos, no MySpace page, no Bandcamp, nothing. So far the only tangible information that exists is that he hails from London and has a debut EP out on R&S records.
The record's vibe-- lost, fuzzy sounds-- fits the lack of disclosure. "California Analog Dream" may sound like the king of chillwave titles but the song owes more to two-step and UK garage; the beats are crystal clear-- more digital than analog-- but the rest of the instrumentation is hazy and lo-fi, from the mumbled, clipping vocals to barely there synth textures that swell and drift throughout the song.
There's a restless feel to all four of these tracks, most obvious in the vocal chatter of "California Analog Dream" and its yearning for escape-- walking to San Diego is a far cry from the grey, rainy London. Vondelpark combines escapist elements of dream-pop-- gauzy synth textures dripped with reverb-- with some very English two-step beats. It makes for a neat self-descriptive mesh of nostalgic sounds from two distinct places-- one imagined and one lived.
While the smeared vocals, woozy textures, and garage-y beats work on the more clearly defined moments, they come across as rough or unfinished on "Jetpack Blue Version". Here the busy vocals feel intrusive and the melody is difficult to pin down, making the song seem like a first draft. "Hippodrome", on the other hand, is the most focused track here, with its lilting guitar line and insistent vocal melody. Despite being shorter and more reigned-in than the more wide-open moments on the record, it still has an effortless off-the-cuff feel thanks to its subtly shifting movements and loose drums. In the end, it feels strangely voyeuristic, as Vondelpark's mumbly vocal style and mysterious persona give off the sense you're privy somebody's private feelings.
