The Weekly Coos

Sometimes you get riddled with musical regret because you haven’t found yourself aware of these independent artists who deliver music akin to one’s preference. That’s how I felt going through the work of San Francisco Singer-Songwriter Tanukichan. Her music is like a bridge between dream-pop and shoegaze within the arrangement, digging deep into the subconscious of the sonic layers and feeling out an identity that’s in love with strings and synths. With Gizmo, Tanukichan’s follow-up to 2018’s Sundays, alongside Chaz Bear (Toro Y Moi), Tanukichan brings to life these sounds that bring out the essence of her voice, though the vocal mixing teeters to start. Like Tanukichan’s debut, Gizmo runs short, never letting a song breathe fully and instead making you trek through each track slowly without the best cohesive experience the first time around. It can become a slight deterrent, particularly as you’re bouncing from something more string-heavy to a synth-heavy production – generally, you’re getting more of the former, and the differences show from the debut – as you let it loop, you start to marvel at what’s great about the album, and there’s plenty.

Modernist nuance with these sounds more prevalent in the 90s, bringing enough dimensions to Gizmo by Tanukichan, creating this unique trek for an artist seemingly furthering themselves from dream-pop, even if only slightly. It’s doing so with subtle notes from genres like Noise Rock and Shoegaze as she delves deeper into Tanukichan’s creative bag. The music fits a consistent aesthetic and vibe that she wants to deliver – slower tempo performances with hardened guitar riffs and defined pedals to elevate the floor with kaleidoscopic energy, even when it can sometimes shine blue lyrically. With much of the content centering on reflections on life and flowing with themes like identity, relationships, and emotional angst, Tanukichan offers these more radiant yet modestly subdued vocal performances, which coat the production with fluidity. Unfortunately, the beginning is a little rough as the mixing feels like it’s slighting the vocals, opting for the instrumentations to have more shine and definition, allowing some of the writing about loneliness to feel connected to it, and it didn’t truly work for me.

With most songs, the thoughts jotted down bring resounding blue, sometimes hopeful, connectable relations – it’s ones where you can feel entwined and one with the artist, even if the writing retreads familiar themes. For Tanukichan, Gizmo doesn’t come to its own until it gets closer to the middle, and then you’re guided smoothly to the end. Track 4: “Been Here Before” starts to pick up as the production livens up and beautifully expresses these layers with their identities that connect strongly. But with the disappointments coming in the beginning, it’s a swift trip before you get to the good stuff. Starting with “Escape,” it’s too hamstrung with bolstering the noise of the guitar strings, almost trying to seize the production and turn it into pure Guitar-Rock anthems, which I have no dismay in – it isn’t always the most astute direction, especially when it slightly drowns out the critical aspect of emotion from Tanukichan’s delivery. It isn’t so much the case after the second song, where her vocals are exponentially louder and more focused, and the production brings a kick with these subtle funky electric bass grooves. Unfortunately, the length of the track makes you feel empty, thinking there could have been more to it.

I’ll conclude by saying – give this a spin – discovering new music and hearing how these artists project themselves becomes more of a treat than expected. I had fun with this new Tanukichan album; I also hope we don’t have to wait another five years for another one. Her co-production with Chaz Bear is a defining highlight, and it’s what kept me returning; the lyricism, which is just the secondary entree, is there and ready to fill you up with an onslaught of beautiful connectivity. Despite being released a couple of months ago, that doesn’t mean you’re late to the party, and the music is here and worth the attention.