You can’t beat the U.K. when it comes to captivating, moody minimalism in indie pop. From your James Blakes to your xxs, it seems like the sun never sets on young folks with expensive headphones vibing/crying (criving?) along to the latest cockney crooner with a preternatural ability to mine every last drop of drama from a lone, shimmering synth line or an emphatic pre-chorus rest. as†ronomyy is keeping the dynasty alive by taking a page out of the Weeknd’s minor key r&b slow jamz playbook (look no further than the pronunciation of the syllable “ooh” for a hint of this influence). A less-is-more approach, however, is the dominant theme here; “Don’t Need U” opens with an electric guitar whose nakedness and singularity evokes more Jeff Buckley than Abel Tesfaye. Guitar, in fact, takes center stage; at 3:10, we’re even treated to a not-terribly-jarring-or-indulgent solo, with syncopated vintage Neptunues-y breath-beats in the background. Another thing, too, that separates this track from the pack – that flighty temptress known as “pop sensibility” – is evident in the fact that although there’s nothing sonically remarkable here, it makes for an immensely compelling five minutes and forty-two seconds of music listening. Keep doing less U.K. music-makers – shit is working.
You can’t beat the U.K. when it comes to captivating, moody minimalism in indie pop. From your James Blakes to your xxs, it seems like the sun never sets on young folks with expensive headphones vibing/crying (criving?) along to the latest cockney crooner with a preternatural ability to mine every last drop of drama from a lone, shimmering synth line or an emphatic pre-chorus rest. as†ronomyy is keeping the dynasty alive by taking a page out of the Weeknd’s minor key r&b slow jamz playbook (look no further than the pronunciation of the syllable “ooh” for a hint of this influence). A less-is-more approach, however, is the dominant theme here; “Don’t Need U” opens with an electric guitar whose nakedness and singularity evokes more Jeff Buckley than Abel Tesfaye. Guitar, in fact, takes center stage; at 3:10, we’re even treated to a not-terribly-jarring-or-indulgent solo, with syncopated vintage Neptunues-y breath-beats in the background. Another thing, too, that separates this track from the pack – that flighty temptress known as “pop sensibility” – is evident in the fact that although there’s nothing sonically remarkable here, it makes for an immensely compelling five minutes and forty-two seconds of music listening. Keep doing less U.K. music-makers – shit is working.