Sylvan Esso

North Carolina's synth-pop boy-girl duo Sylvan Esso (producer and bassist Nick Sanborn of acid-folk outfit Megafaun and vocalist Amelia Meath of female a-cappella trio Mountain Man) debuted with Sylvan Esso (Partisan, 2014). Meath sings in a rather adolescent and rustic manner while Sanborn lays down a cerebral comination of techno, funk, deep house and dubstep. His electronic chatter is the real force behind the skittering and mildly atonal Coffee, their most atmospheric song, and quirky folk songs such as Play it Right. It is not even clear who is singing, the singer or the warbling synth in Dreamy Bruises, the singer or the petulant synth in Uncatena. These are truly dialogue between two expressive voices, the electronics being much more than a simple rhythm. However, Meath proves to be a spectacular singer with the bluesy melisma HSKT (which stands for “head, shoulders, knees and toes”) one of the most hypnotic dance songs of the decade with Adele's Rolling in the Deep, and with Hey Mami, her a-cappella showcase against a background of discreet beats. The marriage of electronics and voice comes through as way more original and stimulating than the more hyped stereotyped synth-pop of the likes of Future Islands.

Clearly, What Now (Loma Vista, 2017) holds back Sanborn's creativity in the interest of selling the songs to a broader audience. Nonetheless, there is enough movement to lift from mediocrity even the sunny ballad Die Young (their hit), the trite neosoul of Just Dancing, and the mellifluous samba of Rewind; and Kick Jump Twist is all about the percussive "voices" that duet and wrestle with each other, and Radio reprises the tribal exuberance of HSKT. Meanwhile, the exotic Signal has a refrain of festive vocal harmonies over blazing polyrhythm; Sound seems to mimic a vintage warped glitchy record of a-cappella folk music; and Song is the most straightforward throbbing poppy ditty of their career (how Francoise Hardy would sound in 2017). At one end of the spectrum, The Glow transforms a seismic electronic quasi-beat into a stomping hurricane, and, at the other end of the spectrum, Slack Jaw is Meath's solo show of impeccable phrasing, exactly halfway between blues and folk.

Sylvan Esso's third album Free Love (2020) is a low-profile affair, and probably should have been a four-song EP as it samples four different facets of their art: the jovial Celtic folk of Ring, the Caribbean synth-pop of Ferris Wheel, the whispered, nocturnal and jazzy Numb and the sophisticated arrangement of Train. They are all minor songs, but better than the second half, which is basically just atmospheric muzak.

The elaborate arrangements of No Rules Sandy (Loma Vista, 2022) don't amount to much more than conventional dance-pop, with the adjective "glitch" routinely thrown in to compliment Sanborn's production). There is certainly a lot of electronic noise in frenzied opener Moving, but it's the exception rather than the rule. The album mainly contains straightforward dancefloor ditties like Echo Party with little or no "glitch". There's also a hint of disco revival in the trivial Alarm. Slightly more adventurous are the warped bossanova of How Did You Know and the Paul Simon-esque Afro-pop shuffle Didn't Care. Ultimately, four good songs out of ten (not counting the brief interludes). The rest is filler.