Andrew Keoghan
Every Orchid Offering
Reviewed by: Asher Wolf
Andrew Keoghan is a sucker for contrasts. His knack for coupling seemingly opposite musical qualities makes Every Orchid Offering bloom like a stylish, Frankensteinian concoction. The album doesn’t so much defy genre classification as it does invite over interpretation. It is simultaneously electronica, baroque pop, singer-songwriter, indie rock, and more. Chances are, any genre term you can think of would reasonably apply to at least one of the 10 variegated tracks, each of which juts off boldly in its own direction. “Manning Bass Strait” evolves from lilting R&B to ecstatic guitar rock, and “Something Going On” sounds like an indie-pop ballad before a hip-hop beat kicks in. One thing is for sure: despite its pleasant accessibility, Every Orchid Offering is about as alternative as alternative gets. The risk pays off, yielding an audacious and fascinating musical kaleidoscope that defies comparison.
The record’s most glaring contradiction is its stark mixture of acoustic and electronic elements. Keoghan learned to play guitar and violin along with his classical vocal training, and he juxtaposes their woody, organic timbres with an arsenal of synthesized sounds that are often electronic to the point of cliché. The title track opens with a slippery pizzicato violin figure punctuated by a sparse, pinpoint beat. It sounds initially like a quaint, acoustic-themed number – an electronic collage of sampled instrumental tidbits. But Keoghan immediately throws a wrench in this vision via a fuzzy, resounding bass synth line that he must have ripped straight out of the ‘80s. The song gets even weirder at the two-minute mark when a flood of swirling synths glitters down atop a thumping dance beat.
These club music vibes are prominent throughout the album, particularly in the grid like, dance-tempo click tracks of “Everything” and “Queues At Dani Keys”. But curiously, the album is staunchly introverted, both in its psychological lyrical content and its delicate, idiosyncratic arrangements. The intimate duet “Stuck In Melodies”, whispered in between the two aforementioned numbers, provides a striking, withdrawn counterpoint to the fist-pumpers that flank it. Like a pop-leaning love child of Death Cab and post-OK Computer Radiohead, the ominously tranquil composition is most appropriately experienced with headphones in the dark – the opposite setting to the club scene the album so frequently alludes to. Songs like this tint the dance sections with a bitter, ironic edge, thus avoiding corniness.
Keoghan also consciously contrasts themes of humanness vs. automation (yet another parallel to Radiohead). On songs like “Won’t Let You Go”, his smooth, ethereal tenor seems especially bare and personal in comparison to the overtly digital character of the sonic palette. “Everything” and “No Simple Doll” sport ceaseless pulses to which a vintage clubber might feel the urge to start robot dancing.
All in all, these tensions form an emotional spinal cord for the diverse collection. The album explodes with creative twists and spirals down atmospheric rabbit holes, but it remains unified due to the pervasive uneasiness that adds enigma and gravity to each florid track. The ultimate trademark of Every Orchid Offering is the eeriness surrounding hook-laden songs that would normally be comforting. Andrew Keoghan is a jack-of-all-trades, displaying sensitive performance, meticulously nuanced production, and commendable songcraft. The music’s closest relative is “future-soul” act Hiatus Kaiyote, but there’s no satisfying approximation for an album so out of the box. If you’re looking for something familiar, avoid this record.
Rating: Bad-Ass
