Asaf Avidan
Different Pulses

"Gold Shadow" by Asaf Avidan is officially my album of the year 2015: a recognition of immense prestige given that this year, with both legendary and emerging names, has gifted me with a ton of beautiful surprises across a wide range of genres, styles, stories, and perspectives. But if I must declare a winner to award this symbolic prize to (much more credible and authentic than a Grammy Award, why not?) then my choice can only fall, somewhat surprisingly, on this Israeli artist, who until recently was a complete unknown to me. And this inevitably led me to ask some simple questions: who is Asaf Avidan, what is his trajectory, how did he come to create a masterpiece like "Gold Shadow"? The only way to find answers is, of course, an extensive overview of his previous albums, which, simplifying to the extreme, essentially told me that "Gold Shadow" is a significant leap in quality, mainly achieved by scaling down the guitars in favor of more varied and refined sounds and arrangements, but also the culmination of a gradual development and a talent far above average. Originally a guitarist with a blues rock/folk rock background, Asaf became known (especially in France as well as his homeland) as the mastermind of a band entirely centered around him, Asaf Avidan & The Mojos, with three albums between 2008 and 2010, before transitioning to a solo career. "Different Pulses" is the beginning of this new path, but it is more a transitional episode than a starting point: the sound is "dense," relatively compact, and sometimes nervous, like in the previous works, but here Asaf Avidan begins to be something more than a "normal" rocker outside the mainstream.

I don't know how "right" it is to judge an album based on what will come after, but my story with Asaf Avidan started like this, with an immediate love at first listen for "Gold Shadow," so for better or worse, my approach cannot help but be influenced by it; still, "Different Pulses" shares with its successor a high-level songwriting: reflective, fascinating, and visionary yet easy to understand and internalize, musically it's relatively less varied, structured in a completely different manner. In GS every song represents a standalone chapter, whereas this one has a tracklist perfectly divisible into two distinct sections, in a hypothetical Side A and Side B, each with its own characteristics. So, it begins with a string of strongly soul-inflected pieces, especially in the vocals; songs like "Setting Scalpels Free" and "Love It Or Leave It", sinuous, very catchy yet with a pleasantly complex soul, as well as the opening title track, rich in pathos and contrasting emotional intertwinings, absolutely highlight the voice, one of the most remarkable characteristics of this splendid artist. A voice not easy to manage, like all things of a certain power after all, but Asaf uses his sharp and bittersweet tone with absolute mastery, impressing especially for the intensity with which he manages to emphasize the choruses, never falling into self-indulgence and exaggeration: effective, charismatic, perfect. Another standout characteristic of this "Side A" is the fundamental importance of percussion, which intertwines with the voice, marking the rhythm and often giving the impression of "overpowering" the melodies themselves, entrusted to elegant and muffled synths, with acoustic inserts and humming choirs. It's not a bad thing, on the contrary, this particular stylistic choice creates a refined, modern, and original sound.

But at a certain point, the landscape changes completely: starting with "Thumbtacks In My Marrow", the sixth track on the list, the "rhythm" of the album changes completely: an album until that point quite fluid and linear begins to open up, branching out like the delta of a river. The metamorphosis begins right here, this second tranche of "Different Pulses" is in fact the embryo of "Gold Shadow". And "Thumbtacks In My Marrow" is a painful beginning, almost on tiptoe, but in its own way spectacular, with great pathos and intensity: tormented, almost ghostly, finely crafted electronic work, understated singing, abandoning the styles of the previous songs. A point of no return, end, but also rebirth: "Leave a hint of your broken image before I shed this crackled glass and take the final leap into the womb of all rusted feathers, and I'll see you when I am born into your world again". Decadent, poisonously fascinating sounds, which also dominate in "The Disciple", with a more "western" feeling, dragging and disillusioned. Furthermore, there's also an elegant, impeccable piano-ballad like "A Gun & A Choice", performed with great emotion, luminous despite not having a cheerful text, and a gentle, tiptoed closing, "Is This It", which offers a beautiful blend of images and metaphors.

"Different Pulses" is perfect for this time of year: dense, melancholic, intense, yet it conveys an incomparable feeling of warmth; the music of Asaf Avidan, especially in this album, is a continual quest for Beauty starting from negative emotions, from an ever fragile, precarious inner balance, and this is something deeply poetic. "But for the unquiet heart and brain, a use in measured language lies; the sad mechanic exercise, like dull narcotics, numbing pain"; so wrote the immense Alfred Tennyson in the fifth poem of "In Memoriam A. H. H.": a universal key to best interpreting the work and spirit of many, many artists, from any era and category, and which fits perfectly with Asaf Avidan. I had closed the review of "Gold Shadow" quoting the text of what I believe to be its highest and most emotional episode, and I do so again here: "Conspiratory Visions Of Gomorrah", an intriguing and somewhat misleading title for a song of rare beauty.

Sorrow is back in your eyes
Pulling us to the depth
We could have lasted like planets
But your weight dragged us both to our death
They've been sober around you
And I truly believed it'll suffice
But you're an addict for torture
And the sorrow is back in your eyes

The minor sonatas of Beethoven
Roll through your hips
But the words you are aching to sing
Are glued to your lips
They've been burning the wrongly accused
While you silently dance
But your beauty was such
That they all gladly stood in line for the chance

The amber around you
Has stiffened your thought and your limb
You're a fossil of love
A relic, an echoing hymn
The purity that once you delivered
Dissolved into sand
Lot has escaped and is dancing
But you're hardly able to stand

You won't work off your debt
Until you strip to your heart and your bone
The love that was once in your veins
Will dry into stone
The mist and the fog
Will densen themselves to a wall
And you'll finally sing
But I won't be there to hear your call