Some people criticize electronic music for its coldness and the detachment that coincides with that feeling. But with chillwave, that argument holds no water. Case in point, Washed Out. Here, the sounds carry a sense of warmth as they follow the trail of their circular shapes, bobbing like buoys gently swaying in the tide. It’s a style that steers you into the fold, like someone was there, delicately moving your chin in the direction they wanted you to look.
As the first artist to take a MFNW stage on Thursday, Washed Out seemed like the perfect pick for an afternoon opener. From the slow build of the opening loops to his carefully cooed, elongated vocals, Ernest Greene made sure everyone got a chance to drift along with him. The surprise of it all, at least to me, was the fact that this music made sense live. I’ve always felt that chillwave, being such a cerebral form of music, wouldn’t have the gravity needed for a transfer to a live setting, but I was most definitely wrong. It wasn’t transcendent, but it was often lovely, and rightfully placed in the schedule as the afternoon dwindled and the dinner bell approached.
This was the music equivalent of what I imagine bliss sounds like - if bliss had a sound - only with more bass and more P.M. Dawn-like, '90s nostalgia-synths. Everything we heard materialized from a small table, containing a mixer, a sampler and a laptop. This is where Ernest remained most of the set, sweating it out, with a small but happy hop. And while I can’t say this was music that made me feel like dancing, I certainly appreciate how it evoked a Sunday morning tranquility. Catch him if you can.
Phantogram, from Saratoga Springs, New York spellbound the surprisingly massive Thursday night crowd with their dream-pop and dueling girl/boy reverberating vocals with the coolness of trip-hop and a soft mysteriousness that harkens the static sounds of Beach House and Asobi Seksu. Lots of buttons and keys, minimal strings, and dancing and foot stomping from pretty frontlady Sarah Barthel (for whom, I’m certain, skinny jeans were invented) prevented the crowd from drifting irretrievably off into Phantogram’s smartly designed futuristic dreamland.
Ra Ra Riot struck a nice balance between Dirty Projectors-like experimentation and The Most Serene Republic’s big group o’ kids play along. Lead singer Wes Miles, with his shaggy dirty blonde hair, shares a striking resemblance with Kevin Drew, which forces me to imagine these kids as the copycat little brothers and sisters of Broken Social Scene, though Ra Ra Riot has their own thing going. Every song is up-tempo with plenty of cello and violin and mature, heartfelt vocals. Their latest release, The Orchard, features a handful of songs mixed by members of Death Cab for Cutie and Vampire Weekend, both of which presumably influenced RRR’s tendency toward the saccharine and the excitable.
