Just like overuse of HDR makes for unrealistic, homogenized, uncreative photography, over-production in music can leave you with a slick, perfect-pitched piece of unimaginative trash. Every now and then, you need to flush your ears out with something honest and un-monkeyed-around-with. For me, that means Tennis.
I'm going to try my damnedest to avoid using the term "low-fi" here. It's a kitsch word, a winking overwrought irony and a stylistic dead-end of a trend. Let's agree, then, that what we're hearing here is not that gawdawful "recorded in an actual sewage treatment plant" dross. What we've got here is just simple, unadulterated music. It's fresh breeze after the humid thunderstorm of Protools compression and knee-quivering bass you get so damned much of.
It's also one of those quintessential summer jams, the kind of song you can have airily wafting on in the background as the sun goes down and the beers come out. Music that fits perfectly in the little gap of air between your sandals and your soles.
Happy Saturday, friends. It's gonna be a great summer.
Welcome to Soundtrack, what Gizmodo's staff is listening to every night.