REVIEW: Yaeji - EP2

Raquel Dalarossa

Yaeji is the undisputed rising queen of underground electronic music in New York City and beyond. Née Kathy Lee, the Seoul- and Brooklyn-based producer, vocalist, DJ, and visual artist has practically exploded overnight, frequently headlining some of the best parties in town and enjoying glowing little features in every outlet from The Fader to The New Yorker. If, somehow, you haven’t heard of her yet, then I suggest you look her up. 

Though she’s now signed with L.A.’s Godmode, her sound sits within a more global movement: lo-fi house. Yaeji’s output shares commonalities with other up-and-comers like DJ Boring, Ross from Friends, and Mall Grab, but her cover of the latter’s “Guap” from earlier this year is a great illustration of what exactly puts Lee in a league of her own. Yaeji’s work circumvents many typical house trappings—like, say, repetitiveness to the point of making your eyes gloss over—thanks to what feels like a signature playfulness. She has a minimalist’s ear, curating the details in each of her songs to an impeccable degree, but she also knows how to keep things interesting with ornamental textures, layered vocals, and a hip-hop- and R&B-inspired touch. Altogether, it’s no wonder she’s able to capture the attention of those well outside the EDM scene. 

With EP2, her second release this year (and ever), she gives us five great tracks that add further credence to her dominance and show off the versatility in her music. Like the bowls of Japanese-style kare (curry) that she serves at many of her live shows, her music feeds the soul, offering an opportunity for both connection and introspection. EP2 opens with the sleepy “feelings change,” a short track that sets the tone for a late-night collection that takes you from pensive moments straight into the party. Though “drink i’m sippin on” found popularity as the EP’s first single, “raingurl” is no doubt the standout banger on this set, with bongo-style percussion floating around the slapping main beat. Like in all her songs, Yaeji switches seamlessly from Korean to English lyrics; she’s quickly becoming a face for Brooklyn’s Asian Americans just as much as a staple for women seeking to break into the male-saturated electronic scene. 

The second half of EP2 follows you as you make your way home at the end of the night. “after that” would fare just fine on the dance floor, but Yaeji’s whisper-quiet vocals seem designed more for your cans at home than for the club’s sound system. The track is simultaneously understated and catchy, hazy and foot-stomping. It leads nicely into closing number “passionfruit,” a nightcap that puts a warm, poignant spin on the already softly rendered Drake song. Here, the vocals are so tender that they bring new emotional weight to lyrics like “I think we should rule out commitment for now / ‘Cause we’re falling apart.” 

There’s a sad undercurrent to the EP that comes to the fore right as it ends, but this subtle sentimentality is part of what brings Yaeji’s music to life and makes EP2 a mesmerizing release. Most of all, what’s most evident here is that Yaeji’s reign is just beginning.

REVIEW: Seoul - I Become a Shade

Raquel Dalarossa

Seoul is one of the largest cities in the world; not just the capital of South Korea, but also the growing global capital of the tech industry, K-pop, and plastic surgery. Seoul is also the chosen collective moniker of Montreal-based Julian Flavin, Dexter Garcia, and Nigel Ward, who together make dream-pop music that recalls nothing of their namesake metropolis.

Somehow, though, "Seoul" feels like a remarkably fitting name for the project, perhaps because the English pronunciation ("soul") has a sort of mystic connotation, or perhaps due to the music's escapist quality and the way it comes off as an urban dweller's sunshiny fantasy. On the trio's long-anticipated debut LP, I Become A Shade, out now on Grand Jury, the band doesn't contend so much with city life itself but rather with the moments that get lost amid a metropolitan backdrop.

The twelve-track album comes nearly two years after Seoul debuted their very first song, "Stay With Us," which now stands as the centerpiece of Shade with its hypnotic funk sound, encompassing both the band's penchant for sugary, danceable beats and their relaxed, sometimes highly introspective tendencies. The latter facet may come as a surprise to some who have been following the hype around these guys since they first emerged in 2013—much was made of the trio's "enigmatic" presentation, but their released material (they shared "White Morning" in April of last year) was such pure, blissful pop that it would've been easy to write them off as another one-trick pony. But Seoul have got a little more up their sleeves than just catchy hooks.

The album’s first official single and third track, “Haunt / A Light,” is an upbeat, breezy number, but lyrically it speaks to a very “quarter-life crisis” kind of feeling. The band members themselves say the song is about the “seemingly perpetual state of not having an answer” and the push and pull between feeling inadequate and feeling content. “Is it just me?” they ask themselves, conveying this sense of isolation within a dreamscape.

Seoul accomplish this delicate balance of the saccharine and the melancholy again and again with aplomb, bringing to mind acts like Washed Out and The Radio Dept., but the second half of Shade leans decidedly more towards the pensive side of things. “Carrying Home Food for Winter,” for example, stands out as meditative and visceral, beautiful yet a little unsettling. Closing track “Galway” is mostly instrumental, soaked in wobbly reverb, and ends up feeling both gauzy and gummy. And interspersed among the tracks are two little interludes, “Fields” and “Thought You Were,” which are both lovely pieces with soft, sparkling guitar work that shines like stray sunlight through a drapery.

So, despite several tracks being more than worthy of the dance floor at a rooftop party, the record overall ends up feeling quite reflective and rather nuanced. It hints at a wellspring of potential for Seoul, but for the present, I Become A Shade is a perfect summer staple.