Perfectly lovely and forgettable
Asobi Seksu’s melodies, time
signatures and stylistic evolution tend to move slowly—even as
things around them zip by. Since 2006 sophomore release Citrus,
the band has again dropped its rhythm section and landed on a new
label. But little has changed musically, aside from the subtraction
of a few layers of guitar texture and the addition of some bubbly
twee-pop dynamics. As before, Asobi constructs its music from
deceptively sophisticated elements, and does it well—arguably as
well as any band in the post-shoegazer era. Peeling back its
wall-of-sound dynamics suits the band, too, revealing the commanding
side of keyboardist Yuki Chikudate’s usually soothing croon, and
giving guitarist James Hanna the opportunity to incorporate more
rhythmic punch into his subtly shifting arrangements. But despite
their gift for undeniably soothing melodies and luminescent keyboard
and guitar textures, the duo’s album falls into the “grower”
category, and it’s possible that less resilient listeners won’t
stick around to be dazzled by its early morning shimmer.