The musical duo of Englishmen Dominic Maker and Kai Campos, who have been making music under this name for some 15 years, launch their sixth album, featuring contributions from Andr\u00e9a Balency-B\u00e9arn and Marc Pell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The album opens with The Trail, a track that sets the tone by introducing the main palette: high-distortion guitars, programmed percussion, moderate rhythm, little touches of synthesizer, and Balency-B\u00e9arn’s voice. Considering the sound, the title and the cover image, one imagines oneself launched into a speeding car on a colorful road. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But while it may seem like we’re speeding along at first, the illusion fades pretty quickly. Indeed, this is not the kind of album that burns a ton of fuel. In my opinion, it’s held back by monotony, which unfortunately seems essential to the concept. The voices sing impassively, modest melodies that don’t really get off the ground. This weariness gives the album an allure in its early stages, an attitude perhaps, but its profits fall back rather quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This aesthetic choice loses all the more credibility when we listen to the twilight track “Boxing”, where King Krule’s tone and vocal attitude lend themselves much better to the exercise in asthenia that seems to contain the album’s emotion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite these remarks, the album is coherent and easy to listen to. If the beginning has the advantage of a still eager ear, the end has that of the best songs. “Fishbrain” and “Empty and Silent” are the most successful offerings, Fishbrain being, in my opinion, the best. Although the song doesn’t change the recipe much, the progression and shifting structure do their part. Also, the depressive inflection of the vocals integrates with the song’s theme, makes it something more understandable and perhaps justifies the album’s form, which I appreciate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thus, it’s the middle of the album that suffers a little, struggling to rise to the level of the rest. The tracks Got Me and A Figure in the Surf get a little lost in their repetition, passing by unnoticed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Sunset Violent is an album to listen to when your body is crushed, in the evening, to free yourself from an overly heavy mind. It’s narcotic alternative pop, a smoking album that offers a moderate-speed ride through purple vapors, and won’t bother your ear any more than it pretends to fill it. It might even prove to be a good night companion, with repeated listens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n