Friday, June 17, 2022

Album Review: E.VAX - E.VAX

Evan Mast, ie E.Vax, houses 50% of the brain power of, and is responsible for at least as much of the execution of, the dance-rock duo Ratatat. His solo career is more traditional than the acoustic/electric hybrid of his main band, in that he is more reliant in his solo endeavors on found sounds and studio wizardry. More traditional for a hip-hop album that is. Evan has developed a close relationship with artists like Kanye West and Kid Cudi since his last album with Ratatat (that would be Magnifique for those who haven't been keeping pace), and his present solo work very much reflects the inclinations of his time spent with these lords of the lyrical and the hard-knocks madrigal. By which I mean, the tracks on his self-titled album have a very hooky, repetitive, and gradually evolutionary structure to them, a series of elevated domains that feels like they are begging to be populated with words, throughts and intentions. But since very few of these numbers contain any vocalizations ("Karst," "Anything At All," and "Pretty Good" being some of the more notable exceptions), you will have to fill in the afforded spaces with your own linguistic turns. It should be easy as the stage Evan has set is furtle with imaginative marl and beats that pop like they were straight-up nitrous oxide injectioned. Evan's latest solo album has arrived no less than 20 years have his first (Parking Lot Music). Because I'm covering his second album a full year after its release, I could legally buy his first a beer now. Although, it being a sequence of curated sounds, I'm not sure what it would do with a full pint of IPA. I guess I'd just be buying myself two beers and drinking one in its honor. And it being a Friday night, I'm already drinking, so what's one more? While I really don't need to be inebriated to appreciate the sunny-sided, tide-chasing, bongo-and-snap-babble new agey aura of "Karst," the washed-out guitar-nymph sprint of "What About You," the damp and dangerous jungle crawl "Kolkata," or the whistling patter of "Little Lung," it certainly doesn't hurt to feel a little fuzzy when attempting to catch the current of the loamy waves Evan is giving off. If you want to carve your own way through the inviting chop of this album sober though, you can be my guest. I have no doubt you'll get as much (or more) out of it as I have while half in the tank. 

Find it on Because Music.