Suburbia holds a mythical influence in modern music. Pavement’s greatest anthems were born behind white picket fences, Green Day staged an angsty opus within the walls of a 7-11 and Arcade Fire wrote an entire album for its disenchanted residents.
This endless maze of cookie-cutter drudgery affords the misunderstood genius the opportunity to shove a proud middle finger in the face of con- formity and create groundbreaking art from the confines of his own prefab bedroom.
On his debut album Cerulean, glitch/electronic newcomer Baths earns a place in the folklore, transforming adolescent sentiment into effortless ingenuity. The tedium of everyday life — scissors snapping, pens clicking, sheets rustling — is filtered through kaleidoscopic melodies and hip-hop beats. Tracks like the hushed and funky “Lovely Bloodflow” and vocal-sampling “Maximalist” soar and contort with ease. Pepper in some Bee Gees falsetto and acoustic instru- mentation, and the product is a thrillingly modern exploration of a genre.
Baths’ Will Wiesenfeld recently spoke with The Guardian about his influences, his new music video and the cure-all for suburban boredom.
“Hold on, I’m saving a video game right now,” says 21-year-old Wiesenfeld. Despite his age, the man is a seasoned musician with a serious knack for pro- duction. “I guess it’s not a widely known fact about me, but Cerulean is, like, the 20th complete album I’ve made in my life. Eight years doesn’t seem that long, but I’m very productive and I’m making music all the time.”
Yet it is only recently, after being invited by fellow L.A. beatmaker Daedelus to share a stage with rising electronic notables Nosaj Thing and Flying Lotus, that Wiesenfeld reached the national ear. “I remember the first time I was mentioned on [music web site] Pitchfork,” he said. “I had been following it for a couple of years, so it was just a very cool manifestation of something more than just me recording in my bedroom. It was very, very epic.”
The success wasn’t anticipated. “It was definitely a surprise,” says Wiesenfeld. “The way I talked to my label Anticon about [the album]—we both just wanted it to be a mild introduction to my sound. But it got a lot more attention than we expected, and that was just awesome.”
Cerulean is dense with sounds and samples that are stripped from their contexts to create a familiar, though exotic, soundscape. “When a rock band is writing a song, they use lyrics or instruments,” Wiesenfeld says. “Those are their tools. In electronic music, the entire planet is at your disposal. You have a microphone and can record whatever you want. But it’s never a conscious thing like, ‘Now it’s time for scissors!’ It’s just whatever I happen to think fits the emotion of the song.”
The music video for “Lovely Bloodflow,” featuring a samurai death sequence, is surprisingly cinematic for the DIY nature of Wiesenfeld’s sound. “I’m very glad it turned out like that. The combination was very surreal and kind of unnerving.”
He describes filming as “a very involved process. My friends Alex Takacs and Joe Nankin made the video, and at first I was very nervous about it, because I try and maintain a certain look for myself. But upon talking to them, I realized their ideas and visual aesthetic are literally exactly what I’m into. It was kind of creepy.”
The artists he is into are notably bizarre. “Bjo?rk,” insists Wiesenfeld, “is more than just an influence on my music. She’s a life influence. She’s what got me started. It’s this otherworldly, majestic experience when you listen
to her music, and it would be a dream come true to eventually maintain a career like that.”
Wiesenfeld also finds inspiration in modern art, from the commercial films of Christopher Nolan, to the obscurity of late-night television. “The best thing ever was seeing The Room at the Sunset 5 in L.A. and that same night Tim and Eric [of Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!] were there. It was just the most surreal thing. So epic.”
Growing up in Chatsworth, an unremarkable suburb of L.A., Wiesenfeld’s creative pursuits sprung from his desire to escape. “It just makes you have that mindset, and you try and look for things that are more alien and different than what you’re used to. There’s just noth- ing out here, so I had to get everything from the Internet or the other parts of Los Angeles. It really makes you want to create that world for yourself. For me, music was the way to do that.”
Maybe it’s this same explorative drive that has crushed any possibility of a Cerulean, Pt. 2.
“It would kill me to make the same album again. Cerulean is great and it’s its own thing, but I’m definitely mentally and creatively done with it,” he said. “The next album I’m going to make is going to be almost antithetical to how positive Cerulean is. It’s going to be completely different.”
Baths will perform at the Loft on Jan. 14. $8 with student ID, $10 for non- students.
