Review Summary: alternate, appropriate
Few feelings can truly and effectively be
described in a work of art, regardless of its form. No colour concretely represents an emotion; no set of neatly arranged words is capable of being a true reflection of an experience. Rather, feelings are
evoked; reminders of pre-existing frames of reference are
conjured up. While this is merely a pretentious way of saying that descriptive art rarely succeeds in my opinion, it can also be seen as presenting a unique space for opportunities: one where, if constructed carefully, clashing or unexpected versions of such evocations can engender some of the best pieces of art.
Everything Except Desire unassumingly accomplishes and indulges in such complexities during its brief half hour. It positions William Ryan Key as a songwriter first and foremost, something which has arguably been the case since his days as Yellowcard's rather timid frontman. His third solo EP trades the familiarity of guitars, whether crisply acoustic or fully plugged and distorted, for engulfing synth-driven soundscapes. Opening cut 'The Swim Back' bypasses vocals altogether and breezes through five minutes of gentle melodies, equal parts bubbles and haze. It carefully trades light and dark, embracing both while falling victim to neither. Thriving off its simplicity, the song sets the tone for a brief yet fully rounded record. It manages to explore the intricacies of electronic music by letting Key's ear for melody function as a guide; as a result, each moment feels organic, while simultaneously juxtaposing senses in the fabric of any space it enters.
Where 'Face in a Frame' felt somewhat jarring as the EP's lead single, it fits perfectly into the full body of work by proxy of the opener's fluidity. Its gentle quips soothe as much as they surprise; the trippily calming chorus beat perfectly complements Key's typically stellar lyricism.
Everything Except Desire finds the artist balancing interpretability and specificity to an impressive extent; each line feels deeply personal yet widely relatable. Moreover, the wonderfully intangible yet all-encompassing atmosphere of the record gently nudges each word into the spotlight in a unique manner. 'Heavens' pairs a calm pulse with abstract textures to open the gates to an explicitly clear chorus, yet finds its ambiguity in the delicacy of Key's words: "
I don’t recall your voice at all / I look up to heavens for you / No light, no grace, no love remains / So I carry you down with me". Somewhere in between sadness and hope, the song discovers light in the darkest corners and efficiently dims that which glimmers.
By not
trying to be anything,
Everything Except Desire winds up being William Ryan Key, rather than a reflection of its creator. Every song finds an ambiguous emotional sweet spot, yet never loses track of its deceptively simple structure. The EP is not a destination, nor does it pretend to be an expansive and overly important journey. It's a brief insight into the Key of 2022, and a reminder that complexities needn't be
complex; they merely need a brilliant writer to guide them to fruition by way of intuition.
