You Can Be My Wave

aya is a London-based DJ and electronic music producer who has been receiving a lot of buzz off her second album hexed! When I first put it on, I was immediately met with discombobulated and avant-garde beats with industrial, metallic-tinged timbres. The music also had this very uncomfortable and seedy quality that made it sound corrosive to the touch, something that would only thrive in the underworld. Lyrically, hexed! deals with the demons of addiction, unresolved traumas, and negative self-perceptions, or at least that's what it says according to the artist's description. Making heads or tails of the lyrics proved to be a difficult task for me. However, based on how desperate and deeply tortured aya's vocal performances are, there's nothing trivial about the experiences she is processing. At times I feel like I'm witnessing an exorcism unfold right before me given how intense and manic the music tends to be. While I do find hexed! to be creative and intricately detailed, I struggle to really connect with it on an instrumental level. By design, the album doesn't provide much in the way of melodic content or discernible patterns. I'm intrigued while it's on, but when the experience is over, there's very little that sticks with me or begs for me to go through the experience again.

With that said, I did find the last three tracks to be the most noteworthy material on the record. navel gazer has my favourite production on the record thanks to elements like the gated reverb snares that pop, the squelching basslines that make giant leaps in pitch, and the blindingly bright synth trills. The Petard is my Hoister follows, and while it isn't the only ambient cut, I do prefer it to the other one. Woodwinds softly sustain, droning on a single note before being interrupted and starting over again. Each attempt tries to find harmony with varying levels of success. Occasionally, a buzzing of alien origin will join in; each time growing more insistent. It's a perplexing piece, but also probably the closest the album comes to finding serenity. The harrowing closing track, Time at the Bar, features aya's most tormented vocal performances set to skittering percussion. The use and manipulation of bell timbres is also curious as these sounds can carry multiple meanings; a warning, signifying a point of transition, or reaching a state of enlightenment for example. These three tracks together create a fairly enthralling conclusion to the record. They're still missing that 'X-factor' that would make them candidates for inclusion on a year end list, but I can see myself revisiting them in the hopes that they might connect on a deeper level in the future.