Album Review: Barry Can't Swim - 'Loner'
Ever the abstract auteur, Barry Can’t Swim adds a sprinkle of sonder to the club with introspective second album ‘Loner’.
In in a remarkably short span of time, Barry Can’t Swim has carved out a distinct niche in the electronic music landscape. His laboured productions are always intricate and bubble with a youthful exuberance that belies their sophisticated layering.
Many DJs are now playing with bringing connection front and centre far more often. With Romy, Jamie xx made a house track for quiet people who frequent loud places and Fred Again made a career out of his lockdown collaborations sampling anecdotal voice notes during the Covid-19 pandemic. On the other hand the worldly influence of Barry Can’t Swim has set him apart from his peers, citing Ravi Shankar and Fela Kuti as inspiration.
In 2023 his first album ‘When Will We Land?’ drew from house, jazz, and global genres, and highlighted his skilful integration of diverse vocal and instrumental samples. This approach added a spiritual nuance to his sound which made him a popular festival booking for the likes of Bonnaroo, Coachella and Glastonbury.
It was no surprise that ‘When Will We Land’ received widespread critical acclaim, culminating in its shortlisting for the prestigious Mercury Prize and winning BBC Radio “Best Dance Album”. These huge accolades underscore his significant impact on contemporary electronic music and have earnt him praise from stars like Pete Tong and Elton John, even a headline slot for East London festival All Points East this year.
Yet speaking on his latest album, the Scottish producer has said: “If my first album was a collage of all the music I loved and was inspired by growing up, then this album is the most authentic expression I could offer of myself and my life over the past year.” O’Flynn collaboration ‘Kimpton’ is the only scrap of that technicolour collage to exist in his latest offering, a jubilant number shaped by his world music influence.
But the latest single, ‘All My Friends’ immediately announced a subtle shift. Shelving the sun-drenched pool side euphoria of his previous era, the newest taste of Loner skips the party diving into melancholic waters. A muted synth melody drifts over a meticulously crafted breakbeat, peppered with the kind of delicate percussive flourishes that are becoming Barry Can’t Swim's signature. It’s exactly the kind of thoughtful, emotive electronica that can elevate dance music beyond mere utility.
Echoes of this winsome sentimentality unfurl across multiple tracks, take ‘Cars Pass By Like Childhood Sweethearts’ which could with its wails of “She’s gone forevermore” pass off as a simple heartbreak anthem. Yet the title and sound hint at a yearning nostalgia for what will never be, a longing for some kind of connection with strangers who drive by, walk past. The swooning violins paired with a clattering percussive beat lends ‘Marriage’ a sweeping romanticism not often associated with electronic music, while the solemn start of ‘Childhood’ paved the way for a brighter finish with sunny flourishes of brass instruments complimented by a looped vocal sample begging ‘let me love you’. A good chunk of the record is geared towards emotion without comprising the motion.
Though wordless introspection isn’t all that awaits on his latest record, the decidedly more kinetic offerings such as ‘Different’ and the Kali Uchis sampling ‘Still Riding’ sparked another considerable change of tone. Yet as fun as they appear, you can’t help but think their unlikely presence all but jettisons the underlying theme of sonder that ripples throughout the album. Alas a couple of inconsistencies certainly don’t derail the whole project, although a little out of place, they add a welcome lilt of dopamine to Loner.
Those expecting the lightweight piano twinkle of ‘How It Feels’ may not find what they are looking for, but this time around he draws far more inspiration from his emotional tapestry as opposed to his musical collage of influences he illustrated so well on his debut album. As he said previously, the focus on making music that defined the last 12 months of his meteoric rise to stardom is more pressing this time around. One can imagine a longing for the quiet life pre-fame, hope for the future and the joy of celebrating success sum up the record. Ambivalence may swirl on Loner, but with his diary of sounds Barry Can’t Swim has never sounded more confident.
Words by Oliver Evans
