Sunday, January 23, 2022

death's dynamic shroud - Faith In Persona



FINDING COMFORT IN THE MILQUETOAST

Enthralled, I asked myself "what is this?!" as a grin protruded via 'Tear In Abyss'' compounding rhythms and screeching vocals. It's a moment you savor, the understanding that you're experiencing greatness first hand. Every aspect of Faith In Persona is accounted for. Maximalist production, tantalizing Vaporwave synthesizers, emotional frailty, off-the-wall bangers, and the total deconstruction of Pop. Of all the magic death's dynamic shroud presents here, it's that last one that makes the strongest impact. Distended to extremes, saccharine singers like Demi Lovato, Taylor Swift, and Ariana Grande quiver in duress under the weight of pent-up sensitivity. Take the dire momentum of 'Tear In Abyss' and its sudden twist of fate at the five-minute mark. Previously, sporadic samples contend with military drums and lightning synthesizers that pierce the sky, providing impregnated gravity to intent dubiously concocted. Then, Lovato's voice - once chipmunked - crystalizes to form a beautiful bridge of total loss and regret. "Take everything I have," her voice reams, as crescendoing Christmas bells bounce aggressively behind her parched cries. It's a moment of weeping bliss, carried out on a procession of warm, tropical percussion. An aesthetic curators dream.

Which, as a whole, defines Faith In Persona. Though it's apparent what death's dynamic shroud's ultimate goal is - to invert teen Pop sensations and their manufactured penitence towards something more profound and fractured - it's damn near impossible to explain how such an obvious transformation is achieved. Which, given the typically-obtuse nature of Vaporwave (see: any of its on-the-nose sub-genres), is all the more astounding. Faith In Persona is complex music simplified down to a science. Pop built from algorithms, fetching influence from scattered sources. It's why songs like 'See Me' and 'Pop Chin' are so unstable, as confusion lies in the range of what humans deem enjoyable. Vocals deviate at random intervals, tickling the ears, as structures perform about-face actions, keeping expectations capricious and unsteady. Every song that strives for accessibility masters that domain in one way or another, be it 'Faith In Persona's' jungle rhythms or 'Someone In The Room's' plastic scratching. Even the interminable 'Last Minutes Of The Memory' finds bliss in the celebration of arena music, with giant electric guitars and a seemingly-endless coda.

Despite these moments of ecstasy, Faith In Persona's genius arises in the tenderness shared by all. More often than not, Pop music - especially those composed by strong, female leads - struggles with the conundrum of enjoyment versus emotion. This duality has always felt paradoxical to me, apart from the rare moments in which it's done right. Take Ariana Grande's 'Needy,' sampled exquisitely on the masterpiece that is 'Just To Be Needed.' On Grande's original, the topic of insecurities and attention is spoon-fed over pleasurable sounds and sonorous vocals. The mere separation of weakness and desire leads to an artificial outcome, one that relies more on - ironically - algorithms for germane radio play, rather than the messy realism. 'Just To Be Needed' does away with that, amping up the intimacy of loneliness with slowed-down vocals, gorgeous in their epicene nature, and angelic strings fluttering around like a bird cast from their cage. Best of all, the backbone of military drums and tapping keys carry a linearity that's found all across Faith In Persona. It's a masterpiece in sample work and Electronic music defying the human condition.

Acting as the quintessential closer, defiant against the preceding bombast, stirring in its summation, 'Rip' features a single line from Olivia Rodrigo's 'Drivers License' contorted and diffused, across lofty strings, overwhelming ocean waves, and a fatigued piano. Though the song stands in contrast to Faith In Persona's modus operandi, its gentle fluttering and reclusive benevolence exhibits death's dynamic shroud's goals to a tee. Here, they took an overly-sentimental - yet ultimately dry and soulless - Teen Pop song and gave listeners a feeling they can actually find comfort in. As someone who's typically opposed to modern Pop music, this is a godsend.

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