Review Summary: A literal encore at its worst.
With the biggest music festival in the Pacific Northwest rolling it's way into the confines of downtown Seattle not too far from now with Bumbershoot, the first thing that caught my eye in the instance of both excitement and dread was the appearance of French dance producer DJ Snake as one of the headliners for the closing day of the festival. Excitement poured in, because the thought of being immersed into a rave-like atmosphere as is usually partaken with these kinds of sets was something I haven't yet experienced, especially with a crowd of over 20,000 or more. However, dread built into my defiant soul because the summery dance excursions from Snake's camp over the last 3 years have been nothing short of awful, overly clique, and the ultimate epitome of the watering down and downfall correlated with electronic dance music. He essentially founded the utter stupidity that's existent in the mainstream, manufactured sub-genre; littered with kaleidoscopic trap beats, Arab-inspired synth horns, and stripped-down acoustic-dance that was nothing but a merely lame attempt to diversify a already limited musical concept. It began with the whistling bird nightmare "Bird Machine", then onwards to the Middle Eastern-esque "Turn Down For What", a wayward path of desecrating musical destruction in his wake. The unfortunate reality is that in Snake's summery, heated debut "Encore" is that not only is it a repeating loop of some of the same, his typical signature international sound that we've been subjected dreadfully to, but it also happens to derivate from other known electronic producers and replicate and plaster it as his own. Plagiarism, at its mere finest and then some.
If the phrase "originality is dead" couldn't be more true as it already was, it portrays that to the umpteenth degree in "Encore" truly. It's literally an encore of his already-repetitive atmospheric sound, and a plagiarizing scorcher of a variety of exclusive dance producers who've introduced distinctive juices to the mix, but Snake's camp meshes to his resume anyway. That is highlighted in saddening form in the psychological, glistening "Here Comes The Night" featuring Mr. Hudson on vocals, flooded by patterned synths, gritty bass, and sparkling keys that match up to the glowing, neon atmosphere that's bursting out with color. Sure, it's a seemingly decent summer banger especially in Snake's book, except there's one "tiny" problem that degrades it all. This was influenced, too heavily perhaps, by Australian producer Flume's mind-inducing, woozy formula of "atmospheric electronic". It was so heavily derived from his works, even progressing in a similar tonnage and feel from Flume's sleek collaboration with Tove Lo "Say It", that it's undoubtedly like it rather than to write up as DJ Snake's own. As if it wasn't already enough, it returns in the form of Kygo's "tropical house" movement in the sunbathed, watery "Sober", a sandy confection littered in peachy synths, temptingly seductive bass, and an exotic vocal set from relatively unknown artist JRY. Besides the overly generic hook, it turns out to be another decent party jam once more, except the Kygo plagiarism is so deeply enrolled under its skin that it's again forgotten that this is DJ Snake even meshing up this in the first place, only left under the impression otherwise from the latter. Talk about originality at its least existence, and then some.
Lack of originality is one thing that you come across in this literal encore, but when your own fully original excursions can't outdo the enjoyable, but highly undistinguished copies that dry up this humidified vacation, that's even worse. It's curated in its "finest" as he collaborates with dubstep master Skrillex in another fiery scorcher, the clanky, trap-muddled "Sahara" as a sort of fitting to the bustling atmosphere that this album is supposed to convey and portrays in the artwork, walking amongst the desert but only to see a metropolitan vibrancy pop up "in the middle" of it all, tribute to the infinite drops he delivers in his musical trips. It fits well undoubtedly so to its international atmosphere, mixing Middle Eastern vocals being muffled underneath hot, melting synths and gooey bass underneath it's core. Scratch all of that neatness away, as it self-destructs to a pairing of creepily awful dubstep sequences from Skrillex, bombarded by mechanical horns and machined bass that only discredits and nullifies the otherwise decency that came before it. It feels like an alternated rendition of his collaboration with Dillion Francis, the rampant "Get Low". That again returns to the lack of originality that's existent all throughout this dried oasis. Unfortunately that isn't even the worst part of this cross-Atlantic venture, as that prestigious title is handed with fragility to the synthetic overload "Ocho Cinco", occupied by the same patterned bass drops and pulsating synths that scream vigorously throughout all angles on the music spectrum in a glowing fist of rage and irritation. Manufactured dance at its worst, indeed.
Mortifying is one fitting adjective to sum up the copyrighted madness that rages inside "Encore", but it doesn't completely override it either. It flashes up with the bright, warm-colored confection "Middle" with English singer Bipolar Sunshine, chimed with bristling, poised synths and golden bass lines smoothening out the sugary tonnage and feel it sprinkles from it. Even the Justin Bieber-featured collaboration in the sleeker "Let Me Love You" shines, despite the awkward and annoying fact that the sunset-colored composition follows the chilled, cool composition that Major Lazer's featured hit with him, the cold, aching "Lean On" followed! It's just underneath a different key and made with some minor distinctions, as is showcased with Bieber's emotive vocal flow. Despite the minuscule amount of fun that can be taken away from it, it's difficult to overcome the lack of thought and concept that DJ Snake put into this, and that's the biggest takeaway that comes from "Encore". It's literally fitting to what the title claims itself, no jokes or trolling aside, a literal encore and combination of both his recycled, declining vibrancy and the multiple plagiarisms from all sorts of distinctive, graceful producers that exist limitedly within the electronic realm. This may have been the deafening blow that was sorely needed to be delivered to the dread and lifelessness that EDM has represented throughout its short lifespan, and oh, what a relief it is to see that coming ahead.
