Chris Cohen writes songs so light and candy they appear to virtually nuzzle up in opposition to you, however he hasn’t at all times supposed to be a steward of consolation. “I feel that there’s one thing in my music that folks misread as like, contentment or being chill,” he instructed Flaunt in 2020, lamenting the occasions he’s observed his laid-back bed room pop crop up as background music in eating places or at City Outfitters. “It is likely to be one thing that I’m not succeeding at as a musician that makes individuals suppose that I feel the world is okay and we must always simply really feel good,” he mentioned. “That’s like, the very last thing that I would like individuals to get from my music.”
Cohen’s curse may be that he’s too adept at crafting attractive, heavenly little songs. If there’s one throughline between the varied tasks he’s been part of—be it Deerhoof, Weyes Blood, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, or the Curtains—it’s this sense of him tapping out cracks within the edges of sentimental pop with out ever letting it shatter. “Injury,” the opening observe off Paint a Room (his first new album in 5 years) places this dichotomy entrance and heart: As Cohen, dismayed, sings about how abuses of energy manifest in society, a summery mattress of horns courtesy of Jeff Parker envelops his dread in a pastoral calm. “Someone’s love was shot down once more,” he coos, simply moments earlier than a clean saxophone solo swirls into view.
Paint a Room is filled with a lot of these frozen-in-time vignettes, as Cohen’s intimate songwriting involves life in blossoming preparations seemingly plucked straight out of a classic California bachelor pad. Impressed by Uruguayan and Brazilian artists like Eduardo Mateo and Milton Nascimento, who pushed their folks pop to proggy, boundless new locations within the ’70s and ’80s, Cohen traces his songs with flutes, congas, and Clavinets that instill a psychedelically tropical lilt. At occasions, the subtly fairly haze can threaten to dissipate into skinny air, however its highs exhibit why Cohen stays one among indie rock’s most quietly wondrous songwriters.
Cohen’s melodies convey every thing his songs want utterly on their very own (he sometimes plots out all his chords and phrasings properly prematurely of determining what to truly say). His hooks can really feel so easy and intuitive that it’s as in the event that they’ve at all times been there: The central piano motif in “Canine’s Face” materializes as gracefully as a mist unspooling over the Bay, earlier than a frivolously dissonant guitar riff begins to pulse like distant thunder. The ghostly keyboard riff in “Randy’s Chimes” creeps round as if it have been fixing a thriller, whereas “Bodily Handle” cruises on a playful bossa-nova groove that glides up and down like a child using an elevator. When Cohen does try to say one thing extra concrete along with his lyrics, his considerations have a tendency towards looking for hope within the modern-day. On the radiant “Sunever,” he speaks to a transgender little one concerning the future: “Up and up you climb, quickly you’ll depart us far behind,” he murmurs tenderly, promising them that “you’re gonna discover a approach” and letting a joyous fiddle paint the trail.
