Maybe it’s the sweat-drenched delirium, the abrupt and often welcome coast to coast polarization of skin-to-clothing ratios, or, that most common of human bonds, the desire to have a good time. Whatever it is there is something about the summer season that makes us all feel differently for a few months. The bottom line is that between June and August, many of us are lucky enough to be a little less emotional, a little less anxious, and a little less preoccupied with the pressing matters we often fret—matters that can’t help but seem trivial when you’re plopped down upon a pearlescent beach, beer in hand, and the ocean’s breathing divine mantras into your ears. In such a mindset, we may be prone to accept risk more willingly, to dive into the unknown more readily, to fall in love more easily. What you said ‘No’ to in January may find you salivating in July. The unfortunate byproduct of trivial summer pursuits is that much like a powerful drug, their effects are temporary and addictive, and the withdrawals are painful and severe. The relationships you nurture in the summer often come with an expiration date; the parties you attend and the people you meet will certainly entertain you and may possibly even enlighten you. The stories you hear, the lives you become part of, they will stay with you forever and keep you dreaming of summers to come. But inevitably, you will wake up one morning and it will all be nothing but memory.
Such is the case with Delorean’s latest full length album, Subiza, which suffers from the same maladies and afflictions as summer love. While far from terrible, the prolonged effects of Delorean’s latest are ultimately disposable. Subiza will help you gather party supplies, but it will sneak out in the night and leave you alone with the mess in the morning. It’s not going to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, and it isn’t going to touch your dirty underwear; but for a short time, Subiza will happily soundtrack your long, leisurely summer drives and will readily soak your dance floor with the pouring sweat of moving bodies.
The album wastes no time setting the mood with the joyful “Stay Close,” which shuffles happily through its diverse percussion, Underworld-like acid synth and lush, reverberated vocal melodies. Happy to conclude without distinguishing any clear verse/chorus structure, the album moves forward in a similar vein with the anthemic “Real Love,” which interestingly marries the decidedly 90s raver vibe with what sounds like a gentle seasoning of J-pop. Ekhi Lopetegi’s melodies will have you remembering the title theme to long forgotten animes, that is, if anime is in your wheelhouse. The breakdown towards the end is particularly pleasing, especially when the vocals drown in reverb in anticipation of the climactic conclusion.
“Endless Sunset” lowers the temp for a bit of a cool down session, allowing the layered instrumental arrangements some valuable breathing room. It is easy to take Subiza at face value, possibly as nothing more than a derivative collection of outdated techno anthems, but when the tempo is lowered, the tightly wound electronics unravel into an elaborate and gorgeous tapestry of melodies, harmonies and progressions that reveal additional nuances with repeated listens. “Grow” sounds like Peter Bjorn and John kicked the bucket and then rose like the Phoenix, and by Phoenix we are talking the France-dwelling, infectious pop creating variety.
“Simple Graces” is by far the most derivative entry to make the album, and will immediately give you flashbacks of early 90s dance music. This song has it all: the cheesy metropolitan MIDI piano chords, the un-fucked-with simple drum loop, and the meandering, shoegazing tempo dance music enjoyed two decades ago before super fast trance took off and jungle music started gaining more prominence. Like M83’s “Kim and Jessie,” the cut is admirable for both replicating effortlessly a sound which is so temporally isolated in the past, and for managing simultaneously to make it palatable, enjoyable and relevant.
The remainder of the album’s tracks, while worth noting, only build upon the foundation established in the first half. The album’s undoing is that by the time you are done with your first listen, you will want to locate some of your favorite parts, and though the album is a slim nine tracks, you may find it difficult to remember which song is which. Aesthetic consistency is hardly something to scowl over, but with an album as catchy as Subiza, you may find yourself wondering why it’s so easy to forget.
Ultimately, Subiza is a solid procession of finely tuned, celebratory pop music that is well-suited to any social occasion. The album’s nine tracks play like a premeditated party mix, and the record even maintains a relatively consistent number of beats per minute throughout. Ekhi Lopetegi does a suspiciously remarkable Panda Bear impression, and like El Guincho’s Alegranza, Subiza lends new insights to the sphere of influence surrounding one Noah Lennox’s residence in Lisbon, Portugal. The kind of joyous abandon and tender vocal delivery that thrives on Delorean’s latest offering is undoubtedly worth the price of admission, and it is certainly worth noting the new and interesting music scene that has been developing and evolving in Spain and Portugal under our noses. Subiza will no doubt fuel the recent buzz that has been following the group since 2009’s Ayrton Senna EP was met with favorable reviews. Critical praise notwithstanding, the appeal of an album like Subiza will ultimately recede as the winds blow harder, the air turns cold and bitter, and the endless parties give way to errands, deadlines and workloads heavy as winter coats. Unlike that long-forgotten fling, however, Subiza may actually return to you some sunny summer’s day, just when you least expect it.
Track List:
1. Stay Close
2. Real Love
3. Endless Sunset
4. Grow
5. Simple Graces
6. Infinite Desert
7. Come Wander
8. Warmer Places
9. It's All Ours
