Synth-pop singles galore
Big Black Delta is comprised of a single man, the one and only Jonathan Bates. Previously a member of the band Mellowdrone, he split due to his indignation of the inescapable logistics multi-membered bands require. He then began to pursue his own solo project. He’s already produced four other LPs, a profusion of singles and about a half-dozen remixes as a solo artist. Hailing from LA and having been active for a decade now, Big Black Delta is now releasing the curious musical motley, 4, which elides mostly new-wave synthpop and touches of classical and even heavy-metal. With a runtime clocking in at 47 minutes in a dozen songs, this fifth full-length LP is like a lost rhapsodic production of an alternate ‘80s that has only now surfaced.
From the outset, the first track, “Lord Only Knows,” is unequivocally influenced by Van Halen guitar-craft. Yet, it doesn’t restrain itself. It sometimes sidelines the heavy guitar for little synth note breaks that offer a disparity against the darker and it balances well. Although the guitar is subscribing to that ubiquitous heavy-metal sound, the singing couldn’t really be classified as “heavy-metal.” It deviates from the dark and is another incarnation of the lightness of the track–it’s ruminative, more sensitive than the music, even a little effeminate. Bates then ditches the guitar, or rather attenuates it into the background so that these major chord progressions on synth can shine through. It’s a crisp and clean introduction.
The next track, “Vessel,” deploys this metallic, shimmering synth melody and even, rather oddly, has Christmas jingle-bells ringing in the background. There’s even a bit of that classic era-definitive autotune or vocoder singing present on the track. The entire album purloins all the ‘80s music tropes, most eminently, the drum-machine track. So, naturally, the album sounds derivative and draws strictly from the ‘80s, but Big Black Delta adds their own spin to it. So overall, it doesn’t sound completely ripped off.
Each track has its idiosyncratic punch. In the fourth track, “Summoner,” there’s this deliciously syncopated main synth line vying with the other instruments creating this stereophonic effect in which the sound seems to be gliding from one ear and through one’s head to the other and back again. It’s wonderfully disorientating. In track five, “Ballad of the Codependent,” there’s no other way to put it but, the audio at the beginning bears a semblance to sand being poured over a sheet or something being sandblasted. Or, in the sixth track, “Sunday,” it stratifies the sound down considerably and makes use of the most gorgeous, gauzy piano loop. It’s balletic, graceful, innocent while there’s this echoic object-falling-onto-hardwood-floor sound in the distance and sibilant tire-screeching. This track is most reflective of the album cover art.
All in all, from the occasional horn sections coalesced with the intractable metal guitar to the maniacal synth arpeggio loops to the beatific vocals singing of inquisitive themes, it’s impossible for Big Black Delta to have nothing for listeners. What is also particularly amusing off the piece are the self-derisive lyrics in track 11, “Air-Conditioned Dork,” wherein he seems to be blithely dissing himself (supposedly he’s the dork subjected to the air-conditioning): “look at this fool/ you’re trying to write a song/ look at his shoes/ he’s got it all wrong.” It’s the one meta track on the album and it deserves a gold star. If one has to listen to any, listen to this one. Apart from that aside, 4 is actually pretty strikingly good.
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