Review Summary: gutted
Goliath suffers a bit of a time-dependant paradox. It would’ve meant a lot more were it released at the tail-end of vapourwave’s artistic peak (we’ll say, 2013), but conceptually, it also belongs in the future. Google “vapourwave consumerism/capitalism” and you’ll see a slew of publications ham-fisting the analogy derived from Adam Harper’s
Dummy Mag article on the genre. N. Brennan + Orokin (basically a side project of Lil $ega/DJWWWW/Kenji Yamamoto - not the one that composed for
Metroid, or
Dragon Ball Z), create industrial sound collages in the vein of Elysia Crampton, Angel-Ho, Chino Amobi, etc., while sampling some very “consumerist” noises (think shopping malls and video games) and layering them into dystopian landscapes. Post-industrial plunderphonics, we’ll call it. The point is, it’s not really vapourwave, yet captures its societal essence better than ninety-five percent of the albums most critics claim as such. If it came out a few years ago, it could’ve turned such analysis on its head, and been a forbearer of futuristic sound collage at the same time, probably putting Lil $ega/whoever on the map. Oh well.
Lil $ega’s aliases’ sounds are… futuretroist. Future-retroist? It sounds like music made several decades from now by some anthropologist-slash-computer engineer trying to decode the past (present day), and doing so in a garbled, frustrated fashion. It yields a bizarre mix of serenity and violence. Lil $ega samples various video games and places the messy outburst on the top layer, while sensations of bliss float beneath. “Cult” samples the uncomfortable baptism scene from
BioShock Infinite, while a river choir (similar to
O Brother, Where Art Thou?) sings in peace. Follow-up “Killing Machine” takes the discomfort and amplifies it to the extreme, sampling a terrifying scene from sci-fi horror game
SOMA, with a devastating pull and release. “Gouka” takes chilling sounds from
Resident Evil: Revelations 2, invoking dread and suspense. Some of Oneohtrix Point Never’s
Garden of Delete’s most engaging moments are a bit lame in comparison.
Goliath is rarely catchy or rhythmic, adopting a more freeform approach, yet occasionally commands morbid fascination.
It was smart of $ega to structure the album as he did. Despite being indeterminate in many musical aspects, the emotional elements contrast sharply. Closer “Hagoromo” is minimalistic a cappella meditation, coming off the heels of “Gouka”. Elsewhere, certain tracks seem to be two-sided, with a chaotic top layer and a beautiful bottom layer. “Ix Chel (Dear Meadowlands)” resembles mass extermination: whizzing bullets, frantic screaming, indifferent PSAs, shivering children, and disarray, yet with soft, feathery ambience seeping in and out. It’s almost humourous, like apocalyptic dark comedy.
Goliath treats serious things like death, religious indoctrination, and fear like accessories, while making you feel a bit silly for caring. Still, one can't help but wish Lil $ega looked a bit further forward, and a bit less three years in the rearview.
