#1 Album Of 2010: Cerulean - Baths

Cerulean

Baths
Anticon Records.

Original SCQ Review

Any album truly worth remembering must have an important memory attached to its first-listen. Even if the record in question is hardly worth writing home about, even if the memory associated doesn’t mean anything yet. Sometimes, all it takes is a certain string of circumstances to elevate a mediocre albums into nostalgia-sainthood; what Cerulean did, frankly, reversed this principle.
There I was, embroiled in Ottawa’s most intense heatwave of 2010 and forced to sleep in the living room, where the balcony door offered some semblance of a breeze. Instead of air-conditioning, my apartment was heated – the kitchen counter, the bed-sheets, everything. And, two Coronas in, I accepted a promo for the sake of curiosity, for any distraction that might cool my nerves until sleep could take me.

Instead, this happened:

Listening to what is probably one of my favourite records of 2010 for the first time right now... too wonderful to believe.
10:01 PM Jul 10th via web

Will Wiesenfeld has a way of celebrating emotions that are congested, guilt-ridden and often uncomfortable. The intended recipient, the “you” in these songs, doesn’t seem aware of how he feels, whether Wiesenfeld’s communicating out in the name of love (‘Plea’) or out of frustration (‘You’re My Excuse To Travel’). Yet for all of his reaching, Cerulean at no point gets down on itself. Thick, stuttered beats pilfer any self-pity hiding behind the effect-laden piano of ‘♥’ no differently than how Wiesenfeld’s multi-tracked vocals soar defiantly against an unspoken pressure to conform or deflate.

A quiet night became triumphant on Cerulean’s shoulders, something this record has done time and time again in the six months since that first-listen. And I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t proven better with each listen.

This video will seriously scramble any first impressions...



...so I've added this one too...

Cerulean - Baths

Cerulean

Baths
Anticon Records.

SCQ Rating: 91%

Remember that scene in The Matrix when Agent Smith relates the progression of humanity to the spread of a disease? That’s essentially how listeners have fanned the flames of chill-wave, confusing some euphoric bedroom-pop producers with literally any lone musician who composes on a laptop. Seriously, when you look back through the years at the rise of home-listening electronica, wasn’t chill-wave already brewing? Shit, does this make Ulrich Schnauss a pioneer in more ways than one? I’m no chill-wave hater; the slang-genre’s prolific blur of new talent by-the-hour can be immersing, but I’m offended by how quickly it appropriates a singular talent like Baths and groups the young beats-smith into its trendy, recycled army.

Chill-wave may not be self-aware (yet…) so, in the meantime, I’ll seek to protect Cerulean, a strikingly distinct collection of beatific sentiments, from falling in with such homogenous company. Behind the Baths name is Will Wiesenfeld, an until-recently unknown songwriter barely into his twenties, who has utilized the crossover appeal of Four Tet with organic electronics positively dripping into hip-hop foundations. In fact, the great divide between these two artists actually works in Wiesenfeld’s favour; whereas Kieran Hebden’s deftly merged styles articulate Four Tet’s instrumentals, Wiesenfeld emotes through the dual talents of poignant arrangements and a naturally gifted singing voice. Although listening for the interaction between human and electronic instruments unlocks half the potency of Cerulean, we’re most awe-struck when both are given space to breathe on a single track (as with ‘♥’ , which expands a rich piano-loop into lovelorn lyrical verses).

Despite Cerulean often packaging its vulnerability into extroverted beats (‘Lovely Bloodflow’) or stylishly layered vocals (‘You’re My Excuse to Travel’), its essence lies in delicate balladry that results in low-key highlights like ‘Rain Smell’ and ‘Departure’. Unguarded sentimentality has a bad rep in indie-circles, almost certainly as a knee-jerk reaction to the radio-success schmaltz typically pulls off, so it’s a rare achievement that Baths communicates longing with such fresh yet accessible determination. Nothing about this feels fleeting or of-the-moment, marooned to blogger merits or aesthetic scenes. Compulsory listening from front-to-back, Cerulean is undoubtedly one of the year’s best records.