Culture Blues

Album Review: “The Year Of Hibernation” – Youth Lagoon

The Year Of Hibernaton - Youth Lagoon

Frank Miller once wrote that the inspiration to make Batman an old man in The Dark Knight Returns came to him while he was on a plane and realized that, for the first time in his life, he was older than the caped crusader. Unable to come to terms with this unfortunate, yet inevitable, chronological turn of events, Miller did the only thing he could: he made Batman 55 years old in an attempt to readjust the world to what he viewed as its rightful place. It seems like every day that passes I have more and more of  what I now call “Miller Moments” (I have already sent in my trademark papers). The first of these were when Lebron James began his professional basketball career. The most recent came when I learned that Trevor Powers, the man behind the Idaho-based lo-fi, chillwave outfit Youth Lagoon, is only 22 years old.

When I think back to where I was at 22 the first memories that I drudge up tend to be of ignorance and embarrassment. When I compound that by considering what Powers is up to at the same age, my feelings are crushed into a diamond of disappointment, like I am wagging my finger at the past version of myself, the one wearing a black dress shirt and white tie. (Yes, I was one of those kids. Also, did you notice how I started this review with a Batman reference, and worked in a vague one for Superman here in this second paragraph? Pretty cool, huh?) It isn’t just that Powers has released a record, which he wrote and cut by himself, that has me feeling this way (to be fair, I had played on a record by that age). What really gets me is that The Year Of Hibernation is actually great (as opposed to mine, which was pretty awful).

The Year Of Hibernation is a short and sweet little record that yearns to be enjoyed. There is a sense of naive adventure that permeates nearly every measure of this record. At its finest moments this album sounds like a young man learning what he can do sonically, and realizing that what he can do is quite good. You can actually visualize moments where Powers plays some keys, fiddles with the modulation wheel, is surprised by what he hears, smiles, and leaves it in the mix (I find it to be endearing). Because of the technological limitations of bedroom recordings such as these, this album won’t win any awards for fidelity, but there is a charm to the grainy nature of some of the synths, and the simplicity of the employed drum beats.

Songwriting is where this record is at its most primitive, but I don’t want you to think that the album suffers for it. Powers shows a proficiency for creating moods with his arrangements on tracks like the opener, Posters, and numbers like Cannons and the truly sublime July. The only problem is after you have have heard a couple of the tracks you find yourself predicting how these songs will be routed, and anticipating the point where the track will no doubt expand into a thumping glowing singalong. Again, I am not necessarily calling that a bad thing. My favorite track on the record is 17, which is a wonderful little ditty, despite the fact that listening to a 22 year old reflecting back on the tender age of 17 is a tiny bit absurd.

As far as debut albums go this is a great opening musical statement for young Mr. Powers. Now he just has to survive hype machines, the temptations of stardom, and his quarter-life crisis. As for me, I am going to try to figure out a way to age all of the musical artists in the world.