Slinky, soulful, strange - Ex Tropical bristles with island-adjacent rhythms, delivered via vintage keyboards, analog synths, Sonic Youth guitar squalls, dodgy chords, and other left-of-center tones, gloomy Grandaddy in too-bright paradise.
Much too bright.
It's all a bit off: a bit nervous, an alien recreation, vacation remembered long after // felt through a psychedelic haze. It's the sounds, and its the human crash: there's neo-soul seduction, mixed with indie vulnerability, mixed with a Dylanesque flatness. All that splitting and crossing keeps you on your toes, but keeps this from settling into any particular role or purpose or mood.
Maybe that's part of the idea: like a good hard trip, you're fascinated, but never quite comfortable, watching everything just shiiiiiiiiiift onby 3.5/5
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