A true experiment.

Montreal-based experimentalist Yves Jarvis is back with his fifth studio album, All Cylinders. Unlike his previous records, the 11-track LP features Jarvis’s vocals as the focal point. Jarvis is also the only contributor on All Cylinders. Every instrument, every lyric, and every note came from him and his skill. All Cylinders stands out in an age of manufactured, algorithmic music. The record was carved out of Jarvis’ vision with Jarvis’ pure talent. It doesn’t get better than that. 

Jarvis reportedly listened to nothing but Frank Sinatra for a year in preparation for this album, admiring the crooner’s ability to make songs “exist without him.” Though Sinatra seems like an offbeat choice for an experimental, neo-soul album, it seems to have paid off.

The first track, “With a Grain,” is the longest track at a tight 3:30. It starts with overt Brazilian jazz influences mixed with Jarvis’ soulful vocals. The instrumentation is wild and almost cocky, like Jarvis knows that only he could pull this off. From the smallest triangle hit to the thrumming drum and bassline, Jarvis’s entire being is open for listeners to hear. “With a Grain,” is an excellent introduction to the album and Jarvis as an artist.

Everything slows down with the second track “Gold Filigree.” It’s heavy and sensual like the weight of two bodies pressed together. The track oozes sex in an old-school way, evoking classic Prince. The distorted, rock guitar joining in sets this song apart from the sex jams of today, reminding the listener that this is still Jarvis, and he’ll do what he pleases. 

All the tracks barely scrape over two minutes, one of them only 13 seconds, but they still manage to explore a vast amount of styles and genres. Jarvis changes genres like taking breaths–it’s second nature to him. 

Surprisingly, the title track, “All Cylinders” is the most stable in style. Set firmly in a 60s-esque folk, soul tone, Jarvis croons of love and desire. The song proves that Jarvis jumps around genres not out of a lack of focus, but a genuine passion for experimentation and genre-blending. The track ends on a distorted guitar chord accompanied by bubbles(?). It’s a great representation of the album–bizarre, beautiful, and singular. 

The single for the album, “The Knife In Me” goes right back to genre-blending, going from upbeat funk to psychedelic folk. The two parts are precise, pulling your emotions to and fro, but not necessarily jarring or unwelcome. The song is Jarvis begging his lover to “twist the knife in [him]” and “cut [him] clean,” so the mixed emotions are expected. 

Yves Jarvis has proved himself to be a true experimentalist in a league of his own. There’s genuinely no sound like this out there. The way he blends genres and switches styles is masterful, and his vocal layering is akin to the greats. He composed, produced, and performed the album, and it had to be because no one else could do it justice. The only gripe one could have is the length; 26 minutes is simply not enough.