by Scott Creney
Great album title. It does in two words what’s going to take me at least a hundred.
Com Truise traffics in a similar form of 80s nostalgia as the recently-savaged-by-Collapse-Board Washed Out, but the similarities end there. If electronic music is always, ultimately, about the sound, Com Truise never forgets to fill the record with endlessly glorious sounds — textures to lose yourself in. If Washed Out communicates in colors, Com Truise speaks in kaleidoscopes.
Every noise, every instrument, sounds processed and layered. Reverse-treated cymbals hiss and swell. The songs ebb and flow in intensity. Like the best rock’n'roll, or jazz, or even gospel, they build up and tear down in ways that only increase the intensity. Com Truise has the good sense to keep us guessing, to keep introducing new elements into a song. They go distorted, turn liquid in places. There’s a sharpness here, a fierce intelligence all through this music that’s missing in a lot of CT’s counterparts.
Ultimately, it’s too edgy to be a narcotic, too moody to use as background music, and frequently too beautiful to be ignored.
Look, I hate to keep harping on this Washed Out thing, but I feel obligated to point out that there are better, less-publicized versions of this kind of music. To put it another way, not only does Washed Out sound like shopping at the mall, buying a Washed Out album is the equivalent of shopping at the mall. There’s more interesting stuff out there. Lots of it.