Review Summary: A beginner's foray into the trip-hop/ambient world ends up being, for the most part, a great success.4 of 5 thought this review was well written
Music is art. Art makes us not only feel, but think. Sometimes the thoughts that result are shallow, giving us instantly gratifying pleasure whether it be emotional, sexual or otherwise. Other times the thoughts we have lead to reflection upon deeper emotions and motives which in turn lead to self examination of where we are headed in life. I have always found trip-hop, repetitive, simplistic and most of all atmospheric to lead to some of the deepest emotions that I have ever contemplated. Words do not need to be the vessels upon which we rely to translate what we feel into tangible thought.
The thought's that result might beg the fundamental questions that humans have asked time and again. It's pretty interesting how music can make us run the gamut of emotions that we are capable of feeling. It can force us to silently and privately give in to the thoughts which plague us all in the uncertainty that is our lives upon this earth. Most of all, it is absolutely mind blowing how simple notes in a song can at times force us to question and wonder about the most important issues that we have ever thought of. It is here that Dropped Flyer
has come to combine seemingly innocuous pieces of music and in an unexplainable way do this very thing: use his music to explore these issues.
Dropped Flyer is the sound of a burgeoning artist, someone who has all the right ideas but not necessarily the experience with which to execute it in a monumental way. Slow Cycle
showcases an intriguing sample looped throughout the song over muted spoken word sections and a straight forward beat almost hip-hop like in nature. While pleasant, the song does little to expand the experience with which the listener is in for. Occult
fades in slowly with violin samples, the emotional screaming of a man: “There is nobody here!”, a complex beat, a faded piano sample and other seemingly non consequential noise in the background. The key to this song, and the follow up Luminescent Tubes
lies in the minimalist instrumentation/complex atmospheric vibe which conflict with one another. Easy enough to digest yet complicated enough to sit and ponder over.
The album ends on a strange note, weirdly upbeat and straightforward after several songs of melancholy. Not that this is a bad thing per se, however it does send out some confusion with regards to the mood of Lowlife
as a whole. However it is short, to the point and perhaps lends itself to the fact that this is music not just of one variety. It has several differing moods, none punctuated by words but instead by a complexity that words cannot provide. Instrumentally intriguing, yet definitely the work of a man new to his craft. We can expect good things from Scott Krasman in the future if he continues in these endeavors, until then we can enjoy all that Lowlife
has to offer.