Review Summary: TOKiMONSTA preaches self-actualization by way of self-indulgence - right when we need it most. Our path to freedom is just one dance floor away.
It's said that hedonism can be a rational response to a difficult life. And it seems like life only gets more and more difficult these days. Where then do we turn, if not to music? TOKiMONSTA, Jennifer Lee's ongoing experimental dance/house/hip-hop project is here to answer that call. To dance, to vibe, and to live. Not as a means of escape, but as our tools of liberation.
Eternal Reverie is an excellent record, first of all. Unexpectedly so, in my case. But, formal quality aside: it is an *important* record. In it, Lee demonstrates a sharp command over texture, balanced by a reverent love of 90s Acid House. Sidestepping anachronism by carrying the sound into a more modern context; through fresh hip-hop flourishes and a contemporary, nuanced instrumental production.
The standout single, 'On Sum,' is a quality hip-hop bop that benefits from its Anderson Paak feature. While its the likeliest track to get wide exposure - do not be misled into thinking it represents the magic that Eternal Reverie is offering up. Sharp and charismatic, 'On Sum' threatens to distract us from Lee's penchant for instrumental hip hop dance groove worship.
Its where those funk hooks and syrupy sampled snippets take center stage that the album shines. The 1:2 punch of 'Enjoy Your Life' and 'Corazon' unfold with the warmth and spontaneity of a sunny day squall. Empathic, elating, and electric. More importantly, these tracks act as an aural thesis statement by Lee as we lean into another year of uncertainty: that we have a right to joy and an imperative to practice it:
"Have a ball where you want it,"
"Your freedom's like a rash, it just can't stop a-spreading."
Although less overtly political, it promotes a similar air of defiant delight as Idles' landmark 2018 protest punk album: "Joy As An Act of Resistance." In each work the music functions as both an expression of defiant optimism and an instrument around which to put that defiance into physical, personal, and communal practice.
To move is to be free.
Of course, telling people to smile when they really need to hear it is not a sufficient condition of a great dance record. Infectious beats are necessary, and Lee does not disappoint, there. Her real superpower is her crate digging cred and her savvy sampling technique. She boasts an intuition towards hooks and grooves that verges on instinct - tying together samples like essential components of a gooey jigsaw. Before your eyes (rather, ears) she meshes the warm funk of the 70s with futurist flourishes of the 80s. More importantly, she's able to execute on that acid house playbook while draping these sounds in just enough washed out reverb and delay to grant them a sense of spaciousness and reverent distance.
It all comes together in a sound that feels simultaneously fresh and nostalgic - particularly on late album highlights 'Say Tell Me' and 'All In' - which flirt with sensual vaporwave aesthetics while tiptoeing around cliche. All of this in a remarkably straightforward package. Eternal Reverie is a complicated piece of work that is uncomplicated in hands of the listener. Egalitarian, even. Despite the complex webs of influence and integration that went into its production it serves up welcoming grooves and an air of optimism to all: without fear or pretension.
Through dance we will find our liberation.
