Review Summary: Deep under his overly layered drops and screeching effects, Skrillex actually shows moments of true electronic intrigue.
It’s so surreal knowing that despite bringing “brostep” to the pop masses and earning status as one of the most recognizable figures in electronic music, Sonny “Skrillex” Moore has yet to release a studio album. 2008 marked Moore’s departure from post-hardcore completely, donning the glasses and the stupid hairstyle, embracing his electronic-infused alter-ego. Now, six years later, his long-rumored debut album
Recess is here, and it says a lot about where Skrillex has gone over those course of those six years. In a world where the dirtiest, filthiest beats are rewarded with headlining roles at the festivals and audiences of the tens of thousands, Skrillex actually loosens his own chains a bit with
Recess, putting the formula aside for a while and experimenting with how to display rhythm and how to use vocals and samples in more intelligently organized patterns.
Recess isn’t going to change people’s minds over brostep, but it very well might change people’s minds over Skrillex.
Skrillex, throughout his entire discography thus far, has had a formula, the “Skrillex Method” if you will: open things up with a melodic intro coupled by steady beats, building up to a single sample, then plummeting with a heavy drop. Keep the thick grub-wub going for a while, then moving back into the melodic motions. Rinse, repeat. This move has become a widely used technique for many, many contemporary artists of this genre, and while
Recess might have moments of experimentation, it’s safe to say that Skrillex hasn’t dropped this tactic at all. “Try It Out (Neon Mix)” is a prime example of this formula, and if you’re in any way familiar with Skrillex’s past works, it’ll be extremely predictable. “Dirty Vibe” still gets hit hard by this formula, albeit in a weaker impact. The drops aren’t as heavy and the rhythms much less layered, but the contributions from South Korean rappers G-Dragon and CL add slurred and snarling vocals, giving the song a…well…dirty vibe. “Ragga Bomb”, for all its reggae vocals and heavy drops, is one of the biggest abusers of the “Skrillex Method.” It’s unquestionably predictable with very messily arranged vocals and samples, embracing party indulgence, but never making anything meaningful out of it. It’s dirty, but really has no reason to be. “Ease My Mind” opens with an incredible vocal sample from Niki & The Dove, but instantly breaks into Skrillex’s warped effects, a move that ends up tainting the purity displayed within the earliest minute. These moments are Skrillex’s comfort zone and it shows: they don’t display any desire to move forward, regressing into the same crowd-pleasing shallowness that has made his career such a bank for MTV.
But despite this criminally abused tactic, Skrillex does the impossible and actually attempts to dim the lights and make music that doesn’t use this formula as a crutch (or in some cases, not at all). “Doompy Poomp”, despite its goofy-as-all-hell name, manages to take a slick, laid-back rhythm and add just enough melody and layering to make it palatable. It’s an excellent example of Skrillex shedding the party excess and drawing influence from the more fundamental instrumental methods from older, more “classical” electronic artists like Aphex Twin. “Coast is Clear” features vocals from Chance the Rapper, whose sexual propositions end up giving the track a scatty beatbox feel with croony singing. The vocals are light and nimble and the production elements are strangely minimalist compared to the other tracks on the album; it sounds more like a simple remix than a full-fledged track, but compared to how similar many of the other songs on the album are to each other, it’s great to hear something that's easily distinctive from the rest. “Stranger” is a definite standout. It’s groovy and croony for the most part, but the components form a slick rhythm that’s great for clubs, but never over-indulgent and messy (the last minute and a half are surprisingly enjoyable).
The songs on
Recess come together best when stripped away of their excess layers, which is something that Skrillex and all of his brostep brethren have been scared to death of doing. With Skrillex’s debut album, there are moments of remarkable promise, points where Skrillex is starting to move toward the club door and leave the party behind in favor of something different, something with more texture. But he’s still tied to the club and there are still moments where his musical composition mainstays are still abused to no end. Songs like “Ragga Bomb” are almost as cacophonous as Skrillex’s earliest works (almost…) and “Ease My Mind” makes the angelic vocals and smooth beats of Niki & The Dove into something full and over-encumbered. They show that Ol’ King Brostep is still compelled to stick to his guns, even if they’re firing on their last rounds. But those points of more poignant, steadier, more remix-inspired melodies like in “Doompy Poomp” and “Stranger” move back from the indulgence, finally achieving a sense of texture and even cleanliness.
Recess is not a great album by any means, but it’s a bold motion of Skrillex contradicting his truest mantra, and right now, that’s not something that anyone can’t help but be a little curious in hearing.
