Sibling duo Kye Kye surprise-dropped their latest album last week after over four years in the making. It’s the group’s first album since 2014. Needless to say, the band has a bit of a cult following that was eager for the new tracks. While I’m mostly uninitiated, those around me have described this as the most experimental release so far. It would seem Kye Kye have pulled an Adjy or Sufjan Stevens on this record as well. It’s 16 tracks deep and 80 minutes long. But unlike these other works, Arya feels far less lofty or aspirational. It doesn’t seem to be long for any reason other than the magnitude of tracks. All that aside, there’s a lot of music here—it just isn’t perhaps the most cohesive.
Of course, some of this is conjecture—the vocals are airy and not always clear. Comparisons could be drawn to Lorde or Billie Eilish, and with the latter also having a new album out, this would seem like an opportune time for this release. Even so, it would seem the general consensus is that it’s a mixed bag—several tracks have thousands of plays while others have yet to top 1000. The top tracks are spread fairly evenly throughout the album though (with a bit more attention on the first few as to be expected). It’s a bit puzzling to be honest, but there’s definitely some allure here for listeners.
That’s also forgoing any traditional marketing cycle. Sure, a few singles dropped prior to the full release, but no firm date was ever given until the album suddenly materialized. This is a fresh release that is still shrouded in a fair bit of mystery.
But Arya feels less of an album and more of a large collection of cryptic, ethereal singles. It straddles the line between dreamy and unintelligible. It oscillates between distorted and graceful. It’s a bit of a hazy identity crisis that leaves me wondering what the ideal context for this sort of album might be. It’s a bit too sleepy for a road trip, but it’s arguably too busy to absorb in the background while you work or study. And it doesn’t feel concrete enough to capture full attention for an entire 80 minutes either. Nothing is particularly bad—but unless you’re a big fan of this brand of art-pop, you might lose interest before long. And without an obvious story or repeated musical motifs, there’s not much to encourage listeners to push through. Instead, it becomes a bit of a shuffle-play release where the order doesn’t necessarily matter, and some songs get skipped entirely. That seems to be how listeners are engaging so far.
But if you’re like me and a bit tired of the faux-edgy mall goth vibes of the past few years, this album in some respects feels like a regurgitation. Vocals and lyrics are an essential part of music for me, but when they’re drowned in reverb and autotuned, with little sign of emotion, the most human part of the album is no longer decidedly human. But beyond that, it’s just not interesting. The songs don’t just lack a compelling story—they lack a captivating narrator. That might sound harsh, but it sort of feels like any arbitrary set of phrases could be used as lyrics, and the audience would be none the wiser.
Now, the production of all things is crisp and full. Grab a track out of the mix at random, and chances are you’ll find something radio-ready.
But in the context of an album, this starts to feel less significant. In some ways, this is the same issue from Sufjan Stevens’ The Ascension. It’s disjointed, and the ambition behind it doesn’t manifest in a way that shines through clearly. Again, pick a track at random, and you’ll probably enjoy a bite of this release. But there are a handful of six-plus-minute tracks that feel like album closers, and there’s only so much of that a listener can handle. The song length isn’t the issue as much as the homogeneous mood and slower pacing.
Was Arya worth the wait for the long-term fan? I can’t say. But I will say this album continues to exert the same flaws other large, electronic-driven albums face. It’s slow, it’s abstract, it’s disjointed, and it misses a powerful emotional dynamic. It plays more like a mixtape. It doesn’t feel fully-formed in some respects. Taken as a whole, Arya is not greater than the sum of its parts. Perhaps a smaller album would have been better. Odds are, there’s a powerful EP buried in here somewhere as well. But given the seven-year wait, none of the songs boast the same presence of “People” or “Honest Affection.” Kye Kye are clearly knowledgeable songwriters, but they’ve lost a bit of their identity this time around.
– Casey Gallenberger
Founder’s thoughts: It’s hard to follow up albums like their self-titled and Fantasize. With a teased third album with Paper Route’s Chad Howat at the producing helm (at the time of announcement), it was hard for me not to build up this album to unreasonable expectations in my mind.
Arya and the earlier era of the band are apples and oranges. Do I love this album immediately? No. But many familiar elements of Kye Kye, and cinematic music I enjoy in general, are present. My present day “it’s a vibe” chillout playlist (which doesn’t exist yet except as a class of music I enjoy) would enjoy just about every song on this album. Some of the songs could do with “trimming the fat.” The transitions are a bit drawn out. But the therapeutic elements are superb. There are eclectic elements that dive into feelings I didn’t know were possible, which is always a cathartic experience.
Arya is worth a listen for fans of Tycho, Poolside, Brijean and Drama.
– Ryan Getz
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