
Sun dressed in an off-white skirt, orange tarnish a patina. With scooters scanning the cul-de-sac, where parents walk with their phones like a pair of gloves. Where chalk marks stretch their limbs on the concrete, and the bedrock sandpapered into a sandbox. Where boys come from the hood and under the transmission, with their wrenches layered in the toolkit, and the ping of a DoorDash driver on set: arrived. With a Crunchwrap Supreme and melted Baja Blast on the passenger’s side. Viscous now liquid – let it stay on the passenger side. R&B from the upstairs bedroom stray to the open garage. Turn the ignition on, A.C. on. Relax, unwind, uncoil. Let art Pop * pop Art trickle into your hemisphere.
As his debut album slowly vibrates alongside the air conditioner, Zay arranges his harmonies as the centerpiece – the soft texture of used couches upholstered into a corduroy loveseat, plush now luxe too. “Friendz U Can Kiss” stacks Zay’s vocals over a woozy synth pattern as he details the distractions of a side-B romance. Frizzy compounds the impairment: her sweet harmonies rival with Zay’s boyish charm, and she soothingly releases the outro from insomnia. A mildly feverish approach, yet she remains cool with the remarks from the guy she’s talking to because she knows she’s fly.
Other tracks like “Love in U” and “Work It Out” distribute the momentum and contour his smooth timbre like a bendy straw. The chorus of “Love in U” repeats the same line, each time stretching that last second of “hurt” until his listeners taste every note of a pineapple chunk, turning acidic the higher the count. On “Work It Out,” Daft Punk-like vocoders glaze over the synth funk bassline soundtracking a homecoming dance set inside one’s bedroom. His voice softens up, effortlessly unbothered, contrastive towards Disco Sam’s deep, cartoonish falsetto swaying the groove to his side. Yet the rhythm successfully latches onto the passenger side; the suggestive “you should roll with me” develops into late-night drive-thru runs and loud slurps for the last bits of Oreo milkshake bits.
“MTV’s Pimp My Ride” defines the record’s sound and motifs. He moves with a Jodeci-esque drip as he slowly unbuckles from the dewy keyboards, toying with synth loops, hardening his melodies into amber. “You’ve officially been pimped / now take your whip back,” he asserts his flame with sureness over the glitter. It’s the kind of confidence that corresponds with acceptance (you can finally uninstall all the dating apps and block the last ex still in your contacts). The lead single doubles as as an alluring introduction to Zay, who otherwise seems placid propelling the energy after the first three tracks subside. Songs like “Ode 2 Ivory” and “rWm” experiment with vocoders, free-range vocal leads, and auto-tuning, but often fade back onto the couch after a strong puff. Even “Love in U,” with all its pitch-bending, heavy Earl Sweatshirt-esque bite, bleeds dry on the chorus, the lack of new phrases catching up to its simple, sparse songwriting.
Fortunately, soundbites exist all over the record, primarily on the closer “Tasty,” where we play with toy kazoos and bounce over a big ol’ bassline with a pogo stick. His crooning varies the airiness with a slow churn, breaking down the harmonies and recoiling us back into the hype. Features from mynameisntjmack and Melvin Knight accentuate the dynamism and valorize the lighthearted tone with a similar swagger as our frontman’s.
Art Pop * pop ART gravitates towards enrichment with indie sensibilities. His melodies float with the sea otters, evoking romance and weekdays off in our 20’s with nothing but the internet guiding our existence. Yet his sense of nostalgia could burn through a floppy disk. The album cover reminds you of tie-dye tees from the ‘60s. ‘90s-like melodies blend with conversational rapping into a modern tale of the past. His depth shows range through his presence when he truly expands on his production value (“MTV’s Ride My Pimp”). Perhaps some more entropy might deepen his techniques.
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