It's kind of hard to believe that Outside, the latest offering from Montreal electronic producer Mike Silver (aka CFCF), is actually only his second full-length release. Since introducing himself with his debut Continent, Silver has released a series of EPs that, given their length and depth, work as larger statements rather than placeholders. Reliably innovative and stimulating, these efforts helped illuminate the varied intellectual curiosities (architecture, film, objects) that inform his constantly mutating palette, often with arrestingly beautiful results. In the ever-expanding sphere of electronic musicians willing to take risks, Silver managed to stand out thanks to both his willingness to think outside the box and his keen pop sensibilities. So it's no surprise that, on Continent, he's embracing the traditional aspects of the long-player format on Outside, crafting vaporous, understated tracks that often play as updates on vaguely new age-y, soft rock radio staples.
One of Silver's greatest strengths is his ability to modify his sound while still sounding uniquely like himself. Outside boasts the same familiar textures and colors we've come to expect from CFCF, evidenced by the fluorescent kabuki dreamscapes ("Jump Out of the Train") and sweltering, celestial atmospherics ("Find") on display here. But instead of simply losing himself in the haze of its translucent pastels, Silver uses Outside as a bid to ground his music with more approachable song structures. Touching on the likes of Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel and even Sting, Silver gives the album a more human touch, inspired by "the yearning for stability that comes from constant movement." Amorous and aching, it's no wonder Silver feels the urge to throw himself from the train, as much of the album evokes how the strange, reflective quietude of a life spent inside the cabin can dull the realities of the busy, bleary landscapes rushing past your window.
The most notably different thing about Outside is the return of Silver's actual voice, now more in the foreground than on any of his previous releases. It's unspectacular—hushed, a little flat, at times almost plainspoken—but one with a deliberate purpose, used to bring more shape and emotional clarity to these pieces. He even goes so far as including a surprisingly faithful cover of Bonnie "Prince" Billy's "Strange Form of Life". But most of the time, Silver's vocal presence acts as more of a distraction than a guiding light. While a good portion of these songs would sound unfinished without a lyrical component, you can't help but wonder what Outside would sound like with anchored by a different person (or persons) on vox, Active Child assist on "Train" notwithstanding.
Much like Continent or any of the subsequent EPs released under the CFCF name, Outside is designed to wash over you, creating an immersive experience that often times helpfully obscures the weightiness of Silver's concept exercises or, in this case, hokey confessional pop. Except this time around, the effect can't quite stand up to his current fascination with slightly warmed-over, 80s adult contemporary looks. Needless to say, if you balked at Bon Iver's "Beth/Rest", it's unlikely that you'll take much interest in the minimalist takes on Tears For Fears ("Feeling. Holding"), softcore cable porn soundtracks ("The Crossing"), or the funereal "Miami Vice" vibes ("This Breath") that pepper the record. It's not that Silver doesn't successfully develop these ideas, but he presents them in ways that are too resolute and self serious to be effectively absorbed.
And yet, with repeated listens, Silver's hypnotic grip strengthens, often overshadowing his cheesier impulses. "The Forest At Night" is as revealing a title as any, while the excellent "Find", with its hair metal ballad guitar and humid, swelling synths, feels very much in spirit with the music of former Emeralds member Mark McGuire. On opener "Beyond Light", Silver finds himself back in the depths of some Herzog-ian jungle scene, all maddening arpeggios and tribal drums. The beauty of a project like CFCF is that it's an amorphorous one, despite the clear lines that can be drawn from one release to the next. The shadows its shape casts may not always create flattering silhouettes, but there's both comfort and anticipation to be found in knowing that Silver's constantly tweaking the lighting.
