In a world managed by computer interactions, it can be difficult to come across something that feels human and genuine. Mostly what one encounters reads as mechanized or worse, sterile. “Halcyon Digest,” Deerhunter’s latest effort, is anything but. A fine example of quality mixing, the album is thick with emotional content and awe of life. Forget polished vocals and monotonous looped drum beats: With “Halcyon Digest,” you’re in for a shot of reality.
The album takes off with “Earthquake,” a psychedelic track that swells with keyboard instrumentation and an incessant guitar tremolo. What sounds like a halting metallic drum beat during the first few seconds fuses into the body of the song, which has so many layers of recorded music, it’s hard to make out the heavily distorted vocals. That isn’t a problem though, it’s intentional. The only discernible human sounds are the heavy breathing and parting of lips before singing. The feeling of intimacy is palpable, like having someone singing into your ear; you can’t really hear everything, but the experience is intoxicating.
True to its title is “Revival.” An upbeat, quick-lived song, it injects life into the album through a soaring chorus line and acoustic guitar strumming. The energy mounts as the vocals turn into a wail and an acoustic guitar riff bursts above the vocal harmonies – it acquires a feeling of sentimentality and hope that otherwise is hard to catch in the steady beat of the rest of the song. Another sunshine-y track, “Memory Boy,” incorporates bells into the background. The chiming recalls The Beach Boys in all their positive affection and helps subdue the darker tracks on the album, like “Sailing,” a heartbreakingly bare track. Based on guitar and vocals alone, the loneliness is echoed in lines such as “You learn to accept/Whatever you can get.” The human condition never felt so poignant.
“Desire Lines” is one of the many highlights of the album. A nod to garage rock, the track resounds with feeling the moment its low-fi, simple guitar riffs and bass drum line take off with harmonized vocals. Although the tone of voice doesn’t swell with sentimentality, its flatness, paired with the guitar riff during the chorus, is completely unforgettable. “Walking free, ooh-whoa/Come with me, ooh-whoa/Far away, ooh-whoa/Everyday, ooh-whoa,” sings Lockett Pundt to his overachieving subject. The oscillating and incessant guitar licks that close up the song encompass a feeling of exhilaration before the amazing thing that is life.
The beat kicks back in with the track “Coronado.” A wonderfully warm recording, the song is injected with vitality from bubbly saxophone lines throughout the three minutes of the song. Brass has a certain joyful quality to it, and in this recording, it makes the song, adding to the steady beat and heavily distorted vocals a feeling of genuineness. This feeling is heightened when, at the end of the track, a few cables can be heard falling on the floor in the background, an invitation to believe that we are there in the studio with the band, listening in.
The album closes mid-note during the final track, “He Could have Laughed” dedicated to the late Jay Reatard. Having the music cut off abruptly is completely unexpected – was this copy of the album faulty? In fact, it wasn’t. In an album dedicated to celebrating the wonders and pitfalls of life, it makes sense that the final track paid homage to its most distinctive characteristic: the unpredictability of it.