Review Summary: Songs of the earth
"Expansive" is one of the most readily-apparent descriptors of
Pool. Skee Mask's cornucopia of dance music lets listeners revel in the diversity on display, from sun-kissed ambience, roaring beats, and everything in between. At eighteen tracks and 100 minutes, it's tempting to think of
Pool as an exercise in variety, or as Skee Mask's simply toying with a number of styles he's worked with in the past; while both of these perceptions aren't necessarily wrong, they miss what makes
Pool such a monumental release for electronic music. The compilation-like nature of Pool is not a hindrance, but a boon that makes it his masterpiece as of this point in his career. Why might that be the case?
Frequently, full-length electronic albums are designed to cultivate a mood. The dense, never-ending wintriness of
Compro's album art begs for some obvious seasonal associations, and the frostbitten melodies do well to add to it. That's not to say that there isn't variation in sound or style on
Compro—there certainly is—but every track serves its purpose in fostering this specific atmosphere.
Pool listeners would be hard-pressed to come up with a group of adjectives to cover all of the album at once. What a joy this is. Obviously, this isn't a revolutionary concept, and I don't want to make it seem like it is—eclecticism has long been heralded as a strong quality for long-players. Skee Mask's brand of eclecticism on
Pool, however, is miraculous, in part because no matter which style he tries his hand at, he bats a thousand. Take a look at the few different styles on display here and it'll be clear how thoroughly fleshed out each sound is.
Begin at "Testo BC Mashup," your one-stop-shop for clattering breakbeat. It takes a few seconds for the listener to orient themselves, as they're treated to an incomprehensible digitized sample that feels like a splash of cold water as a wake-up call. As bleariness fades, clearheaded bliss engulfs. The percussion takes center stage, no doubt, but Skee Mask's synth work is confident and healthy. The balance of elements is as natural as could be, and this highlights what might be the most impressive of all about
Pool; well-formed, self-assured, and lucid, it almost feels as if the tracks grew from the soil in the earth. Maybe that's the best way for me to understand the verdant field of the cover.
Compro is wintry,
Pool is natural.
Continue on through to "Fourth," the closer. You'll find none of the skittering digitized precussion of "Testo" here, but rather sighing synths, a (relatively) whispery bass drum, and a brief drum break that sounds closer to a '70s funk band than a 2020s producer. Jump back to the second track "Stone Cold 369" and you'll find warm and convivial pulsations with none of the loneliness and drowsiness of "Fourth." We'll end our journey at "Crosssection," which sounds like it's constructed from a sample of some sort. Vaguely bluesy and perhaps the most four-on-the-floor dancefloor-ready song of the bunch, it's a world away from any of the other tracks we're previously seen. The percussive palette is clearly breakbeat inspired, but its sample and rhythm almost evoke ghettotech or house. Skee Mask certainly makes the most out of his distinctive sound, stretching it to its limits and giving
Pool the eclecticism that makes it special.
So let's color the idea of eclecticism with this new perspective; Skee Mask's palette is distinctive and surprisingly uniform on the album considering just how much he does with it.
This is what makes
Pool such a high watermark for electronic music.
