Baths - Obsidian

L.A. gentleman Will Wiesenfeld comes to me at a time when the most prominent influence of Los Angeles, upon me, is that of Grand Theft Auto V. My first initiation with the musician better known as Baths, who'd already put out two albums prior to this one, the initial impression is that this Californian phenomenon won't be quite as fun.

It's something of a morale boost though when you read about musicians born in shitty, dull areas making something of themselves artistically. Throw in the sexuality-based lyrical content and a dangerously aloof sound and you've got yourselves a GSA favourite in the works. Not to build too much expectation of it, of course...

Intro 'Worsening' is a bleak, soul-searching monstrosity lashing out randomly with jerky, cluttering beats and a dragging vocal, occasionally bursting into small verses of "Where is God when you hate him the most? When the mouths in the earth come to bite at my robes?" - it might just be a reference to last year's medical problems:

I spent weeks on end just waking up and not moving, trying to get to the couch, and then spending two hours on the couch, going to the bathroom, and getting in my bed again. And then trying to eat a slice of bread. It was so bad. And I did nothing but play Skyrim and try to read. I couldn't even begin to make music. And that was exactly the time when I was supposed to start making the new record. And all this shit had to get cancelled. There was so much nothing in my life at that point, so I looked into writing darker material about apathy.

But it can't quite have been this bad. Almost like a sunrise, though, 'Miasma Sky' comes in with its showering sound-effects and polished, prodding synths and brings us back to life. In spite of its lyrical message seeking to end it all. The happiest suicidal thought you've ever had, if you will. Even the awkward popping candy-like scrunches over the strings on 'Ironworks' can't quite taint it - itself a sordid love affair with a married (to a woman, just to be clear, this is 2013 after all) man. "I am sweet swine/ and no man is ever mine", Wiesenfeld sighs, and ponders "there must be some finesse to self-worth". It's devastatingly poetic.

That Baths flips from that sombre outro to the vaguely industrial, pulsing 'Ossuary' says a lot of the album's unpredictability. The track, a reference to what's done with human remains in passing, points out "with all my desperate symmetry/ with all my white lights and straight lines/ my skin will still sag". He's not always the powerless victim, though: 'Incompatible' relays hopeless experiences with his "first boyfriend", varying between cold ("failed your maiden voyage") and candid ("on the nights you roll over and introduce yourself/ I am elsewhere"). By 'No Eyes' he's really rolling, using a snare rather more than a little reminiscent of NIN's Closer to soundtrack his thirst for meaningless sex. "It is only a matter of 'come and fuck me'" he grits, before some extended sequence that sounds like grinding porcelain rather bluntly seals the deal. The unpleasant sexual encounters continue on 'Phaedra' (a Greek character doomed to unrequited love in the least, and suicide out of guilt at the most), where Wiesenfeld admits "it is to you that I owe all my lacklustre".

It takes until 'No Past Lives' for the word "love" to factor. Take that statistic how you will. This particular track is markedly more bombastic, with impassioned vocal delivery and the most unexpected use of the word 'rectal' I've yet encountered. It only grows on 'Earth Death', a fully-fledged rock track that's one of the most alive songs I've heard all year. It takes a series of harmonic nonsense to wind down all of that energy, and 'Inter' does that quite ably.

For me, at least, the album serves as the male counterpart of Grimes' Visions: an extremely sensual record hiding behind an awful lot of out-of-body experiences, love of manga, and tremendously engaging, experimental pop. Sonically, in fact, it has more in common with Passion Pit's euphoric noise than it does a self-effacing hipster-favourite with an obscure word for the colour black as his album title. What sets it apart though is its brutal lyrical honesty, its dare to tinker with all sorts of sound effects, and, in spite of all those usual roadblocks to one's ears, its repeated listenability. Much like GTAV (there was a point to bringing it up, after all!), there's more fun to be had when you explore freely. Now to find those other two albums.

Rating: 9/10
Highlights: Miasma Sky; Ironworks; No Eyes; Earth Death; Ossuary
Avoid: tba

Artwork Watch: Not nearly as uplifting as his lovely face. 
Up next: Robin Thicke