Day 66: Baths — Romaplasm
There aren’t that many people making music that sounds like Baths. Will Wiesenfeld’s solo project fuses avant-garde electronics with the classically orchestral, creating songs that can feel warmly intimate or starkly nihilistic depending on his mood. The follow up to 2013’s Obsidian, new album Romaplasm is a varied effort, defined primarily by its desire to move in many directions seemingly at once. And though Wiesenfeld creates a more varied set of moodscapes with this record, his occasional tendency towards complexity for complexity’s sake drowns out some of what made his last record such a strong document.
Thematically, Romaplasm deals equally in distant fantasies and the immediacy of identity and self-actualization, aptly mirroring our culture’s simultaneous need to escape and confront reality in the current sociopolitical climate. Tracks like “Yeoman” and “Abscond” borrow heavily from the realms of fantasy and fairy-tale, carving out space for Wiesenfeld to write queer love stories filled with charm and yearning without delving into the messiness of real life. It’s a concept that even bleeds over into “Extrasolar”, which chronicles life as a touring musician through the lens of interstellar travel. With digital bleeps and string arrangements reminiscent of a video game RPG, this early suite of tracks finds Wiesenfeld relishing the idea of disappearing into some other world where airships patrol the sky, or at least another life where all you have to do to find love is rescue someone from a castle.
But that’s not to say that Wiesenfeld is afraid to speak in plain language. “Human Bog”, the closest track to replicating Obsidian’s captivating take on IDM-tinged minimalism, addresses the development, navigation, and performance of LGBTQ+ identity, trying to reconcile the expectations of being “queer in a way that works for you” with that same sort of desire to fit into neatly acceptable communities or categories is also “queer in a way that’s failed me. I’m not enough of anything.” Later on the album, “Out” is a highly-relatable journey into the self-loathing and self-consciousness that anyone can experience out at the club, with Wiesenfeld conceiving of a space ostensibly about fun and freedom (especially for queer bodies) in ecclesiastical terms, clinging to his “phone as a rosary” as holy protection against the invasive thoughts that one is alone and will remain so forever.
The album’s main flaw, though, is that Wiesenfeld sometimes mistakes his hyperactive arrangements as a sign of depth and complexity rather than a distraction. There’s nothing wrong with his frequent use of off-kilter (poly)rhythms, but with so much happening around them, it’s often overwhelming trying to catalogue (or even keep up with) everything that catches your ear. “Superstructure” mixes active synths, strings, and a number of plinks and plonks that tie into to the theme of “smother[ing] self in software”, but it’s ultimately more dizzying than divine. It’ll take me a while longer to make heads or tails of the glitchy “Adam Copies”, which sounds like the tale of a Tokyo arcade that’s become self-aware and now must defend its honor by confusing plebes like me. It’s almost a relief that “Lev” serves as a sort of comedown immediately afterward. It’s all an ambitious attempt at growth, and in moments that work, his 64-bit tunes hint at a direction that I’d personally like to explore further, but finding those moments can feel like poring through code plagued by at least the occasional bug.
Ultimately, Romaplasm is a varied romp that showcases Wiesenfeld’s equal talents as a storyteller and sociologist over intricate programming and arrangements. Perhaps one for the “grower” category it’s the textbook example of an artist still trying to strike the balance between showcasing their talents and connecting with their audience. Mostly for better (especially thematically), sometimes for worse, but make no mistake about it: this is an album that doesn’t hold much of anything back.
This is Day 66 in my 100 albums in 100 days series, where I review a new album or EP I haven’t heard in full before every day through December 31st. Check out yesterday’s post or see the full archives for more.
