Review Summary: Theory will only take you so far.
Djacob Collier’s
Djesse tetralogy has polarized listeners unlike any musical project I’ve borne witness to in the past decade. His acolytes liken him to a musical deity, capable of perceiving aural patterns and weaving musical tapestries that no human being has ever been enlightened enough to comprehend. His naysayers, on the other hand, react to his work with visceral disgust, lambasting his compositions for lacking form and being soulless, resembling the sort of music a rogue AI would make if it suddenly desired to torture its cruel human overlords. As the great Bruce Lee once said,
we need emotional content. The hilarious thing about these diametrically opposed camps is that they’re both right. Collier’s 53-track long
Djesse project showcases his completely undeniable and borderline freakish musical talent at every turn, but also makes little to no effort to conceal a serious quality control problem. Each of its first 3 volumes occasionally rewarded its listeners for slogging through its incomprehensible swamps of theory with a superlative gem like “Time Alone With You”, “He Won’t Hold You”, or his un-f
ucking-believable a capella rendition of “Moon River”. While
Djesse Vol. 4 may be a different beast than its three siblings in terms of genre and style, it regrettably falls in lockstep with this pattern of execution.
Collier lifts the curtain on the final part of his passion project to reveal symptomology similar to that which has befallen most of his work over the past decade. “100,000 Voices”, if its title didn’t give you enough indication, is pure excess, a head-spinning collage of recordings from Collier’s live shows where he fashions a makeshift choir out of his audience, coupled with puzzling Christian contemporary synth pads, the first of two(!!!!!!) THX intro swells on the album, and a frankly nausea-inducing hyperpop-esque metal breakdown to top it off. You know, just to tie a neat little bow on the whole experience. I was 4 minutes into this album before I decided that I needed a water break, and not in a good way. There is no denying that Collier’s mind is full of amazing ideas, but “100,000 Voices” is further indicative of the fact that the more he opts to let all of these ideas off the leash at once, the more his art suffers. The 11-minute two-part epic “Box of Stars” functions as exhibit B to this argument, weaving through inexplicable trap beats and a hilarious Steve Vai shred solo only to still feel like it’s been played in a wind tunnel for its entire runtime. Such is the mystery of Collier; sometimes his music is an overstimulating headache, and sometimes it’s the greatest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Previously released single “Never Gonna Be Alone” certainly has its funky chord changes and theoretical quirks, but its simplicity allows the beauty of Lizzy McAlpine’s vocal and John Mayer’s understated guitar solo to shine through with a brightness that simply does not pervade the bulk of the tracklist. “Cinnamon Crush” succeeds with a similar gameplan, while bombastic single “WELLLL” proceeds with caution by only marrying itself to one insane idea at a time instead of twenty, and ends up succeeding with flying colors.
Djesse Vol. 4 both succeeds and suffers in a remarkably similar manner to its predecessors. As Bruce Lee’s close friend J. Robert Oppenheimer once said,
theory will only take you so far. When Collier focuses less on flexing his musical muscles and more on penning genuinely gripping compositions, he stands shoulder to shoulder with the preeminent songwriters of our time. It’s a shame that a significant portion of his work feels like a showcase of possibilities, as opposed to a thoughtful and measured expression of creativity. What
Djesse Vol. 4 showcases more than anything is the continuation of Collier existing in this musical limbo. It’s volatile, bloated, and occasionally transcendent; a gas station burrito of a musical experience.
