Self Released – 01 Jul 2022
Crozet embark on eighties drenched excursion into youthful nostalgia.
Crozet are a duo consisting of John Helmuth and Sean Lee who have been working together on the project since 2010. Their latest release is an eight track offering, Suburbia. Together they have crafted an album that is steeped in the sensibilities of a synthwave aesthetic. Clean guitar lines given to an almost balladic nature merge with atmospheric synth parts and large precisely tuned drum sounds. It is a crisply produced excursion into the realm of nostalgia for the inveterate excitement and angst of adolescence.
The nods to synth heavy eighties production values give weight to a notion of sonic anemoia, or the sense of longing for a time the person in question has either never known or perhaps at second hand. This is not necessarily a criticism, such influence is culturally pervasive currently. The most prominent example being Stranger Things, an example of how such reinterpretation of nostalgic influences can be effective when done well. Indeed the thematic exploration of this album feels of a piece with the narrative of youthful discovery and tribulation in that show, albeit shorn of the supernatural elements.
Things open with the short wordless piece “Suburbia”. Underneath the subdued sound of rainfall and some dreamy synths, there is the faint noise of what could be a cassette being put into place or the closing of a car door. The band cite the movies of John Hughes as an influence and this seems an apt point of influence as the atmospherics are that of a scene which precipitates some internal revelation within a teen movie.
“Got Your Number” features guest vocals from Biet Simkin, whose voice blends in neatly with the instrumentation that leans further into the soundtrack approach. The upward inflection of the lead line mixes with the epic sounding guitar parts that could be lifted straight from a power ballad. Similarly “My Racing Heart” has the anthemic pulse of excitable melodrama at its core. The chorus lyrics are overblown and angsty, ‘my racing heart is on fire again’. The song also contains the mainstay of any eighties soundtrack worth its salt, a saxophone, played here by Carl Cox. It is a strong midpoint to the album, neatly encapsulating the intensity of early infatuation.
Little Lies continues along the lines of the grand cinematic approach. The song has an understated intro which sounds a little like something programmed on an old Casio keyboard. The song quickly returns to a much more expansive soundscape. The synth pad style drums, coupled with the keyboard stabs in the background give off shades of Jump era Van Halen.
These songs do not always reach the inevitable denouement of their clear filmic referents and at times there is perhaps too much that is interchangeable between tracks. However where they do work is in their efficacy at conveying a particular mood with a precise execution. The excitable potential of juvenile encounters proves to be no less potent in its recollection. In its best moments this album captures the heady moments of youthful lust and angst, expressed with a cleanly wrought, highly evocative nod to eighties influences and some catchy synths.
