Have you ever loved someone-a mother, a friend, a life partner-who’s emotionally sporadic? It has a way of making you lose yourself in anxieties that aren’t your own. Finding your way out of the maze of another person’s emotions is hard, and it can force you to learn how to emotionally separate yourself from aspects of their life. It’s not easy, not being hugged when that’s all you want, not seeing a smile after you told what you know is the funniest joke ever. But love keeps you there.
Moonheart’s new single “Breaking/Broken” reminds me of this space. The track is simple-lush synths layered over cavernous percussion and flickering electronics, with singer Kim Iman’s voice ping-ponging in stereo like rippling water running over it all. This simplicity is all in service of my favorite aspect of this track: its structure. The song opts-out of a familiar verse-chorus pattern, and instead floats through a lyrical stream of consciousness. It evokes the contemplation one has after yet another failure to connect with someone they love, remembering all the good and the bad in the relationship, while trying to figure out what comes next. This emotional middle ground is hard to grasp, but Moonheart has captured it perfectly.
The more you listen to Moonheart, the more their sound eludes you. Zoom in on Kim Mayo’s melodies and guitar parts in isolation, and you’ll discover some Kate Bush tinged in a little Bjork, mixed with an occasional note of neo-soul. In combination with producer Michael Sachs, though, the second half of the duo, Mayo’s songwriting transforms into more ethereal shapes, her beautiful voice made even more haunting with added reverb and echoing synths. In the three songs on Moonheart’s new EP, Blow, the pair creates electronic folk that transfixes the listener, even while slipping through her fingers.
Beginning with “These Days,” Moonheart combines unlikely elements to weave a lush-seeming song that belies its simplicity. Comprised of vocals, a bright guitar, straightforward drum loops, and a couple synths, it flows forward smoothly, pulling you in with its melancholy vibe more than its meaning. The moments when its lyrics come into focus are powerful, though (“Too many times by accident / I’d expose my lovers to a bitter wind / They weren’t dressed for”). The second song, “Joï”—a sparser, slower track—crystallizes more immediately around Mayo’s voice and a deeper, buzzier guitar sound, but it is equally dreamy (“Tell me all about the stars again”). Last, “Blow” is the EP’s most sumptuous track, but also its most elusive. The vocals jump around, showing Mayo’s range, and while the first two songs feature recognizable beats, Sachs uses percussion more creatively in the final song, propelling it gently forward to the last, satisfying fadeout. Blow may not be the kind of album you can fully grasp, but it offers plenty in the attempt.
