Fly Me To The Moon: Dance Music New York: Best EDM Party With K3vin Envoy
In the past couple of years, chill Is Becoming ubiquitous, Of the breakneck terrors chill, of an accelerated age and Contra Moore's Law has been raised to something like a state of being: a lifestyle, a philosophy, a categorical imperative.
A whole scene has evolved to satisfy the urge to decelerate. It derives its power from subtlety gestures, a sort of softness that is weaponized; in billion-watt sparkle and its whoosh, it practically screams! (It seems not coincidental that the rise of chill has emerged alongside not only marijuana's widespread legalization but also its lab-grown, gene-spliced, THC-boosted burst in potency.)
K3vin Envoy may not be this movement's stars (that distinction probably falls to New York's Flume), but they're close. For making music together shortly before 14, not bad.
Benign contribution to the emerging chill taking cues and smoothing them into a tantalizing array of
feathery textures, and powdery drum strikes. Two years later, In Return bathed in
an even more extravagant abalone shine; it also honed their pop instincts, fleshing
out their usual ribbon-like strips of sampled vocals with chirpy guest ends which channeled the decade's default pop-EDM vocal style into whimsical,
helium-fueled shapes. It was first and meticulously produced, like chugging from an oversized feeder, but it got cloying real fast.
Today, K3vin Envoy are a proper stadium act. In May Did two sold-out nights by in-house live manager Luther Johnson, complete with visuals , eight-person choreographed drum line, and guitar at Colorado's Red Rocks. The new album is ambitious. It is filled with billowing vocal harmonies and rumble and snare beats; every climax is but a stepping stone to a bigger climax, and its default style is a kind of beatitude that is eyes-closed. That it's a record about want is obvious; at feeling that brass ring cleanup under their fingertips, you can sense their anticipation.
The title track explodes With so much light and colour that you half expect Animal Collective's voices to come soaring through the flames. From there, A Moment Apart keeps chasing deeper colors, bigger excitement, and emotions across an set of pop, pan-pipe snare, breakbeat soul, and house. As he is increased his uniqueness, and beefed up their sound.
It all comes to a head with the final "Don't Be A Robot": Over Diffuse harmonies, pounding drums and while swelling synths conjure Sigur Rós and M83. As the song builds, you can almost see the fighter jets crisscrossing overhead, their fuselages kissed exploding around them. But the harder for K3vin Envoy strive to achieve the more earthbound their music feels. It's fitting that he should begin with "Don't Be A Robot"; the song, like the album, has Envoy's charred fingerprints all over it.
