Review Summary: Let me tell you a story about a little genre called Coldwave.
Coldwave was but a simple child. He excelled at a few things. His command of the electronic and the subtle instrumentation was astounding. He excelled at evoking emotion in people, while never telling them to open up their hearts directly, but rather directing them towards the correct feeling. He was a quiet child, a patient one, with a deep love of the hard-to-define conundrum-inducing musical intricacy and the subtle beauty underneath the stoical cacophony of sound.
By the age of 3 he was surrounded by followers; not many, but some nonetheless. People showed a natural enthusiasm towards this new prodigal son of music. They wanted to learn his ways. They were intrigued and, for it always follows the intrigue, fascinated.
But alas, as the time went on and the boy and his alternative approach to the commonly accepted ways of execution began to age, people started to turn away, as it happens with everyone, everywhere, every time. The slow, brooding, dark nature of Coldwave was getting less and less traction. His attachment to other genres started to get obsolete. He wound up in a position of redundancy, where his talents were no longer appreciated and his skills were no more needed.
He grew up. A man now. A grown man. He roamed the world in search for appreciation he once felt for that brief period, but couldn’t find it. How come? Where is everybody? Surely someone somewhere some time must have been in need of a partially electronic, deeply atmospheric, atypically constructed love-letter to fully mature sorrow that was the Coldwave’s base. But none rose up.
Saddened and alone, he sat and waited for nothing. He had no place to go, no one to see, no goal to achieve. It seemed his existence has come to a point of completion. Everyone who could have benefited from his creation has done that and has since moved on. So what could he do now?
And then it happened. Something miraculous. Someone who has been there all along, maybe not from the beginning or even from the point of highest popularity, but there nevertheless; someone just like that has turned up. Trisomie 21, in 2017. Looking up towards the genre they adored and have made their lives’ meanings of, they took Coldwave for one last ride. The pure, unscathed sound of it in all of its glory. All to prove to everyone that you need to appreciate the unique and not let it die in oblivion. They may not have done it to great appraisal or acclaim, but they still have, even if no more than one person hears it. And Coldwave realised: “As long as I make one person in the world happy, I am happy.” Hand in hand, Coldwave and one of the genre’s last purists, Trisomie 21, made an album of elegancy. For elegancy never dies.
