February 26, 2016

LP: Crater - Talk to Me so I Can Fall Asleep

Crater creates otherworldly electropop that is as smart as it is addictive.

Talk to Me so I Can Fall Asleep, Crater’s debut full-length record, was the soundtrack to my short winter break back in my hometown of Seattle. A locally-based duo consisting of Kessiah Gordon and Ceci Gomez, Crater creates otherworldly electropop that is as smart as it is addictive. It’s a bundle of contradictions: unnerving and comforting, upbeat and gloomy. This feeling is at the locus of what makes this album so stunning. Talk to Me so I Can Fall Asleep’s beauty is within its oxymoronic qualities, conjuring up feelings that are both lively and melancholic. Standout track “Gross Relations" begins with chaotic percussion, but quickly changes to an upbeat drum pattern and interweaving guitar and echoing vocals. Fast-paced clicks and bubbling synths are paired with wailing electronic sounds. The song rapidly evolves into a mixture of guitar, upbeat electronic drum patterns and the familiar opening guitar riff. It gives off a sense of darkened nostalgia with lyrics such as, “Their mind’s on vacation / not going to school / forgive their gross relations / it’s natural”.

My personal favorite track on the album is "Brew", which starts with bubbling synthesizer and follows with a catchy chorus and Crater’s seemingly signature extraterrestrial electronic sounds. Airy, hypnotic vocals are layered upon intricate swirling synths and soothing guitar riffs. It's basically trance inducing in its sublime starkness. Everything seems almost alien as we watch the glowing Seattle skyline. I’m flanked by old friends, all crowded together, shivering and sitting cross-legged on a park bench. We laugh at all the high school-aged kids passing around joints in their moms’ beat up minivans. Our conversations are strained and, after a while, I’m at a loss of what to say. As I ride the bus back home, I realize that the comforting familiarity from the smell of Seattle salt-tinged air sweeping through rain-streaked bus windows and the sticky emerald vinyl seats on the Metro are gone. My dad leaves the screen door open for me, like he always has. I quietly creep into my unadorned bedroom, lay flat onto my childhood bed, and play “Gross Relations.” My ears are enveloped with interweaving guitar riffs and airy vocals. I realize that home isn’t where it used to be, and that’s completely fine.


Listen to Crater on Soundcloud.

Emma May is a sophomore at Barnard College studying Women's, Gender and Sexuality Studies. She likes pop punk, comics, and Haribo.