Album Review: DIIV - Oshin

DIIV
Oshin
Rating: Grrrr

From humble beginnings as a bedroom pop project from Beach Fossil guitarist Zachary Cole Smith, DIIV (originally named Dive but changed because of a Belgian band with the same name) has since expanded to a full fledged band with 3 additional members. While there is similarity in sound with his full-time band (as well as peers Real Estate and The Drums), the nostalgia tinged quasi-surf rock they proffer is skewed more towards dream pop, emphasizing influences from acts like The Smiths, The Railway Children, Innocence Mission, and The Ocean Blue. There is a shimmering, light-on-water quality to the record which comports with Smith's quote that all the band members have water signs. The quartet's debut album Oshin is not going to win any awards for originality or for diversity, however, it transcends this limitation by being 13 tracks of pristine, dark-edged guitar pop, each song merging into the next to create one suite of tracks that sticks in the mind for a long time after the final track has faded.

For me, the album evokes warm days back in college in the late 80s, driving with friends along deserted back roads with the windows down, letting the pulse of those previously mentioned bands be our guide, never quite knowing where we would end up, or what we would do. When time seemed limitless and we all felt infallible. From the opening chords you are transported immediately into their self-contained world, with "(Druun)," acting as a roadmap and introduction to the record, the cavernous beats and shimmering waves of guitars folding in on you. Which leads right into the mesmerizing "Past Lives," which uses a melancholy palate of guitars over a driving beat, with Smith's forlorn vocals touching on themes of loss and regret: "I was your home and you locked yourself outside/And run with your ghosts/Back to a place you'd already known."



For the most part, throughout the record the emotions and themes are carried more by the meoldies and not the lyrics. When the songs have lyrics, the vocals are usually pushed back into the mix and become another musical element. Usually the lyrics are impressionistic snippets that blur in and out of focus, allowing you brief glimpses of meaning, which is always open to interpretation. There are frequent allusions to death, regret, and being haunted by or running from one's past. On "Sometime" the echoing guitars and crisp beats are underlined by Smith whispering lines like "Sometimes your birth is just a part of your death,"



while guitars wail and crash over the thundering "Oshin (Subsume)" with its half-chanted "oshin crash/salt makes blood/red with clay/black with mud,"



and a chugging bassline and beats propel the intensely paranoid and frantic "Doused,"
Smith's voice getting more and more agitated as he sings "you've gone too far/your urge to run away is back/and we all know."



While there is a tendency to feel like a lot of the songs bleed together, and frequently I will admit that I can't tell some of the tracks apart from each other, looking at the record as a whole it is not so much a weakness as it is just an overall aesthetic that colors the tracks. This is not to say that there are not some stylistic differences on the album. "Air Conditioning" trades the glossy shimmer for a more Krautrock inspired strut,



"How Long Have You Known," climbs into bed with a Spiritualized-esque drone,



as closing track "Home" is like a soft lullaby to sleep, the keyboards washing over quietly echoing guitars, Smith intoning "you'll never have a home until you go home," which sums up sort of the grand theme of the record that running away from the past and your problems just creates more issues.

Oshin is a gorgeously produced record whose tracks feel lived in, as if they have been part of your life forever. Once again, I was transported back to those free-flowing days when time seemed to slow, the open road was ahead, and you hadn't lived enough to have a past.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.