You can trace almost every individual aesthetic element found within Lewis Del Mar’s self-titled debut back to a specific album or band present within the late-2000s to early-2010s alternative / indie scene. That’s not a slight towards the New York folk-pop duo comprised of singer / guitarist Danny Miller and drummer / producer Max Hardwood. A band like them was bound to turn up eventually. Think of Interpol. Turn On The Bright Lights is immediately reminiscent of Joy Division and The Smiths. To a certain extent, this is how innovation happens. In the case of Lewis Del Mar, you can’t not think of mid-2000s indie acts. (Alt-J, anyone?)
It’s not all indie rehashed, though. The most interesting thing about the record is that its influences are clear and present and all over the map. “Malt Liquor” is a strangely satisfying blend of the Caribbean-influenced beats present in R&B music, the kind of picked guitar lines you’d find in an Alexi Murdoch record, and slouchy, reverb-laden production. The track devolves into a hectic little interlude which sees instrumentals being cut haphazardly, percussion and distortion floating on by in waves.
If you want to learn how to take in what others have done, and (very clearly) let it inform your work while still retaining independence from the haze of all-too-similar artists jumping on bandwagons, Lewis Del Mar is a perfect example of how to take already-established trends and twist them into an original collection of tracks.
Start with “Tap Water Drinking.” The bass line is the kind of thing I’d expect Breakbot to put out, all funk, no nonsense. That, coupled with a straightforward acoustic guitar on top of very measured percussion (which at the same time somehow manages to effectively sneak sleigh bells in during the pre-chorus) all come together to make a track that straddles three genres and yet doesn’t seem out of its depth. Also, halfway through it devolves into a tribal-esque exchange between various forms of percussion and a ridiculously distorted synthesizer, all amid what seem like random stock noise effects. And all this somehow leads up to a pretty great guitar solo.
With all these musical puzzle pieces being stitched together, you might wonder, is there actual novelty that Lewis Del Mar bring to the table? Well, there is. That novelty comes mostly but not exclusively by way of Miller’s vaguely gravelly vocals. There’s a really subtle shakiness to his delivery which most often works in his favour, particularly on tracks like “Puerto Cabezas, NI,” and “Loud(y).”
“Islands” is probably the most uncharacteristically calm track on the record. Aided by almost overly bittersweet melodies which pop in and out of the background seemingly at random, the song makes use of piano and a stereotypical pop-ballad structure, except it doesn’t really build up to anything, instead opting to sort of sizzle out with a lone kick pedal and guitar note that seemed almost an afterthought.
Lewis Del Mar’s debut is sort of a contradiction: novel, yet unsettlingly familiar. If anything, it shows just how little you actually have to stray from established aesthetics to cobble together a fresh and engaging record.
