In the spirit of full disclosure, I feel compelled to disclose that this will be a heavily lopsided analysis of Shangri-La, the new album from electro-dance poppers, YACHT headed up by Jona Bechtolt and Claire Evans. Whenever I attempt one of these things, I endeavour to give an equal amount of time examining an album's aesthetics, concept, writing, etc. In this case however I am undoubtedly incapable of achieving such balance. The story that is told in Shangri-La, as communicated by a cinematic style narrative and brimming with a plethora of amazing one liners, is too interesting and successful not to give most of my attention to when writing this. Yes I will give some mention to how it sounds (really good, thanks!) but the main body of this will be reserved for plunging the depths of Shangri-La and trying to absorb the story it tells.
But first- I find it worth mentioning that both Bechtolt and Evans' voices has progressed notably since See Mystery Lights. It can be at times difficult to discern which of the two is singing as the both tend to revel in their slight androgyny, and they often perform in tandem. They definitely run along the same trajectory, however certain vocal inflections have been dialled up to be more noticeable. The cocky swagger, the dismissive antagonism, the slightly irritable staccato are all more discernible this time around, and it makes the album better for it. In contrast however some of the experimental approaches to sound and music have been dialled back here. The types of music created are a little more linear and straightforward, a little less expansive than the last album. This is not terribly surprising as See Mystery Lights was as ambitiously diverse as it could get without crossing over into nonsensical batshit insane. Rather then spreading the instrumentation out in a vast space if stimuli, all of the beats and sounds are more tightly coiled together and focused, seeming more dense and moving at a faster pace. This more controlled and tempered sound seems necessary to effectively carry the albums narrative forward logically. This is not to say that Shangri-La sounds too traditional or boring- far from it. The slurring bass line that scuttles forward at a propulsive rate, mixing together with the tropical melody in “Utopia” sounds amazing. The tremor inducing synth notes that erupt throughout “Dystopia” are brilliant. I love the menacing and macabre key boards that sloth forward in a dizzying almost roundabout way in “Love in the Dark”. There are many overt and well placed musical cues and aesthetics taken from the DFA coda. The coarse rapid fire hum of high octave punk guitar interspersed with a more elegant and regal sounding piano beat in “I Walked Alone” come to mind. There's something I love about DFA albums, that while they sound so refreshingly distinct, they strive to share a semblance of musical DNA. However, as is always the case with YACHT, its the vocals that tend to be the most dramatic and interesting instrumentation.
Undoubtedly the most triumphant and compelling attribute to Shangri-La is the utterly engrossing narrative that YACHT has crafted. Rather than a loose collection of themes, morals, or subject matter affixed to melodies, YACHT takes the Hollywood approach, with a linear and logically paced science fiction story, with each song encapsulating one scene or point of plot progression. The story revolves around man kind's attempts to build a utopia in hopes of thwarting the looming apocalypse, that YACHT perceives as potentially unavoidable. In the opening, epileptic sugar high of a track, “Utopia”, the duo is bursting with optimism, for at some point in the future, their lofty goals will be attained; however their visionary perception is foggy at best as they aren't quite sure how just yet. Still, they enthusiastically boast that a utopia can and will exist- just not yet, not in this time. As they turn to the present, in the conceptual counterpart to “Utopia”, the song “Dystopia” paints a much more bleak and frightening visage of the world we currently occupy. “Every day the sky gets lower, lower, lower. And every day the tide gets blacker, blacker, blacker. And every day the flames get higher, higher, higher!”, YACHT laments in a traumatized and even slightly psychotic demeanour. The central message to “Dystopia” is to simply let it burn. Here we see a slight disconnect from reality and logic, perhaps brought about by YACHT's almost obsessive commitment to their particular brand of technophobic-spirituality. How can a Utopia exist in the future, if the world falls to pieces in the present?
This volatile pessimism permeates and infects all aspects of YACHT's world view like a malignant tumour, as articulated brilliantly in “Love in the Dark”. They take the simple notion of love and frame it in the most abusive and self destructive ways possible- why not act as such if the world is in the verge of collapse? “I love you like a small town cop, I wanna smash your face in with a rock, I love you like a ticking bomb, we're gonna get off where it all goes wrong”. In the end he gently reassures they will not grow old, only closer. You can't grow old, if your death is imminent. As things progress, YACHT grows ever more disheartened, torn further and further away from the euphoria they briefly captured in “Utopia”. In “Beam Me Up” YACHT no longer finds any solace or sanctuary in the future as they once did. “In 6 million years we'll stand together and watch it burn”. YACHT's only option left is escape and abandonment from the world they were once so sure they could save.
“Paradise Engineering” delves further into the “Shangri-La as a sci fi flick analysis” as the album's revelatory/shocking surprise scene. YACHT updates their continuously dark thesis, no longer warning that millions of years from now the Earth will be no more, instead threatening that the earth's demise will happen at precisely exact date in time, moreover it will occur during our life time. And the real kicker- it won't be a divine rapture that brings about our end, but our own smug confidence in our tenuous grasp on science and technology. It will delude us into seeing humanity as becoming more and more god like, that will be our demise. Our arrogant attempts to artificially construct some ill-defined utopia is the true cause of our present and future dystopia. It's here where the album's sub plot is brought into sharper focus and integrated with the main arch. Throughout the album YACHT displays an antagonizing and irritable attitude towards not just organized religion, but the notion of god- not as something that may or may not exist, at no point does YACHT deny the possibility of god- but as an effective influence on our lives. The album is full of dismissive jabs at the so called creator, mocking his importance, and showing the folly of usurping his role, one that while attractive to megalomaniacs has no place in modern civil society. In “Utopia”, YACHT assures us, “a higher source is coming, but you don't have to commit, you don't have to submit”. In "Holy Roller", they urge not to worry about some god up above, we should live our life free from his arbitrary and schizophrenic judgments. “Paradise Engineering” conveys not just how pretentious and unnecessary deifying oneself is, but also how comically easy it is- “If you want me to be your god, then I will be your god!”, Bechtolt whimsically boasts. We can't use technology to elevate us to the status of god, nor should we as such unfathomable control over the earth is not the key to saving it.
Things reach it's darkest and most solemn state in the penultimate track, “Tripped and Fell in Love”, as if YACHT has regretfully resigned themselves and the world to an unavoidable fate. However things take an unexpectedly wondrous turn in the final, jubilant track, “Shangri-La”. A calm soothing piano track forms the back bone of a serene beat with Bechtolt shedding al the dread, stress, and chaos from his voice. In “Shangri-La” YACHT no longer conceptualizes the idea of utopia in terms of some vague transient notion of some future perfect world, that can only forged through technological advancement or the grace of god. Rather they see it as something that can instantly materialize simply through civility and good will. Utopia is not some physical, impossibly magnificent arrangement of structures and systems, but rather a sate of mind. They no longer need utopia to be defined in the most literal sense, rather they find contentment in simply living somewhere they can call home, with the people important to them. YACHT no longer wants to die and go off to paradise, they don't need to go to heaven, they would much rather go to L.A. The whole epiphany is almost sickeningly sweet, but after all the trauma YACHT subjects themselves too, and all the cynicism they purge, they group deserves a little catharsis; I believe the listener does too.
With Shangri-La, YACHT has far surpassed my expectations of what I hoped would be one of the more interesting albums of 2011. Rather than a quirky roasting of a variety of different topics as in their previous album, YACHT has written brilliantly conceived, massive science fiction epic. It shows a wider range of emotions then I thought the group was capable of, with a more impressive and advanced set of vocals to deliver them. Unlike film, music often trades in vague metaphors and imagery as opposed to literal representation, so I love that a person can explain directly what Shangri-La is about: a sci fi story about the dangers of relying on technology or religion to create a better world. More importantly its the best album released this year so far. Do yourself a big favour and listen to it. Repeatedly.
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