Holly Herndon – Platform

Holly Herndon

San Francisco – Upon first listening, American (Tennessee-born, San Francisco-transplant) sound artist’s Holly Herndon’s second full-length effort Platform sounds more like an experiment than an album.  First impressions can be deceiving, however, as Platform actually takes a truer form as an LP—a result of a delicate hypothesis and scientific tenacity—than what many modern artists deign to signify their work as such.  Herndon dares to embrace the strange with Platform; an adventurous move, given the formulaic rubric of electronic music that has come to plague the mainstream sphere of the genre.  It’s very clear that she isn’t making music to sell records; she’s doing so to send a message.

Holly Herndon and I share a similar background: humble upbringings in suburbia that eventually led to dreams of bigger cities and grander opportunities.  Nipping at the coattails of powerful IDM (intelligent dance music) pioneers like Andy Stott and Nicolas Jaar, Herndon has enjoyed moderate success with esoteric timbres and sultry arrangements, especially evident on her 2012 LP debut Movement.  This year’s Platform is a much different animal, coaxing heavily syncopated rhythms and hushed vocal samples from the fascinating phantasm of inspiration she calls upon amongst bouts of songwriting.  While Movement focused on construction and meditation, Platform deals with a horse of an entirely different color: Platform celebrates integration and intersection, in an enticingly original manner.  The songs on Platform read as illustrations of crossroads of certain experiences, in which every facet of being is delicately presented.  At the same time, Herndon is able to lasso a tumultuous storm of emotion.  On Platform, placement is key.

At fifty minutes in length, the album is hardly a departure from the norm, yet it feels so much longer, but not in a bad way.  Upon listening to Platform, the listener is transported to a glitchy eden of palpable uncertainty.  Every second of Platform has an edge to it, a seduction of unease and impending revelation.  The opening track “Interference” is misty with understated rhythm, and Herndon’s melodic vocal gasps punctuate the song with spectral emotion without saying anything at all.  Track 2, “Chorus,” is a bit more straightforward and energetic, yet still the vocal samples offer up a bouncy state of welcome dissonance.  It’s as if Herndon is writing an elaborate aria for herself, yet cannot find the words to do so.  She wants her voice to be heard, but doesn’t know what to say.

“Unequal” gives us the first glance into a more cognitive thought process, as distorted samples boasting values like ‘honesty’ and ‘action’ are woven throughout the rattling Björk-like instrumentation, yet still seem detached enough to garner any cornucopia of meaning.  The orchestration on “Unequal” is basic, rumbling, electric…yet struggles with an indelible portrait of identity being sought out through proclamation.  On “Morning Sun,” Herndon does her best impression of Kate Bush, allowing the listener access to actual lyrical structure—something she has never done before—yet does so at healthy arm’s length, inviting welcome distance while at the same time professing relatable material.  Still, while the song boasts actual lyrical content, we are still held at bay, as if from fear that we may get too close.

The reliance on lyrics builds with “Locker Leak,” in which the sentiment “What lasts? Glass lasts,” is repeated several times by a female vocalist—who sounds eerily similar to Maggie Gyllenhaal—amidst punchy cross-sections of bodiless ‘oohs’ and tick-tock production.  “An Exit” exhibits similar fortitude, this time emulating FKA Twigs with swooping vocal tracks yet somewhat droopier instrumentation.

“Lovely at the Top” is lyrical gold that is achieved through commonplace blasé, as the lyrics are delivered in a more robotic fashion á la Radiohead’s “Fitter Happier.”  Each line progresses further, masked in a haze of psychological examination, until the vocalist—probably Herndon—says “I believe you are a good person.”  Haunting, daunting, startling, prophetic?  Is Herndon reading the listener’s mind?  Is she guiding us on some sort of journey?  Or are her assumptions guiding us through?

The album’s singular downfall perhaps lies in the last few tracks, as they seem to flatline after the introspective nature of “Lovely at the Top.”  While still enthralling, “Dao” and “Home” do little to rouse the listener from the dream they have been lulled into.  And while the disconcerting nature of the music mixed with the interruptive nature of the lyrics still hold rather strong this late in the album, the feeling one gets as a listener is diminished; we are no longer surprised or caught off guard.  The music is great—and Herndon’s haunting ghastly coos still hit the mark—but we don’t feel that same sort of eerie turbulence as in the earlier tracks of Platform.  That being said, album closer “New Ways to Love” is perfect for this situation, as it brings us full circle to bathe in the tepid uncertainty that permeates a good two-thirds of the album.  We are left feeling uneasy, yet cool; satisfied, yet questioning.

The biggest difference between Platform and Herndon’s debut LP Movement is a willingness to surrender.  Movement is glorious in its inherent infrastructure, yet the listener never feels like there is anything truly at stake.  With Platform, we are on the edge of our seat.  The introduction of widespread vocal samples on Platform aid in the expansive feeling of disorientation and distress that seems to be the mission here, and such elements are executed brilliantly.  While seeing an IDM artist live is somewhat puzzling, I have great faith that Holly Herndon will present this album with the highest degree of professionalism, mystique, and delicious ambiguity.

Brava, Ms. Herndon.  We are bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.  I hope that’s what you were going for.

Platform is now available via 4AD.  For more information visit Holly Heardon ‘s Facebook page or her website.
Corey Bell

Corey Bell

Corey Bell is no stranger to music.Having spent the better part of the past decade at concerts and music festivals around the globe, he finds he is most at home in the company of live music.Originally a native of New England, he has since taken residence in New York and New Orleans, and now resides in the San Francisco Bay Area.He achieved his Bachelor of Arts from Goddard College in Vermont via an undergraduate study entitled “Sonic Highways: Musical Immersion on the Roads of America," in which he explores the interactions between music, natural environment, and emotion while travelling along the scenic byways and highways of the United States.His graduate thesis, “Eighty Thousand’s Company,” features essays regarding the historical and socio-economic facets of contemporary festival culture intertwined with personal narrative stories of his experiences thereof.He is the former editor of Art Nouveau Magazine and holds a Master of Fine Arts in Writing from California College of the Arts.
Corey Bell