Continuing the course of techno-pop and electronica, Jessy Lanza showcases a hold of her style in essence through these whimsical vocal performances and lovely productions on her latest album, Love Hallucination. When speaking on her sound, it’s hard not to find yourself captivated by the melancholic bliss guiding you from beginning to end. Its central fuse is its percussion acting like it’s open to the world, becoming expressive while retaining this charming timidness, where the softspoken vocals weave complex yet relaxing depth. It almost leaves you calmed as some songs begin to sync and feel slightly homogenized between synths, and you get lost in a zone. It makes the listen minimally less than unique as the electro-pop elements can teeter, following a path instead of feeling looser like with Oh No, where she took techno and synth-pop elements through a vast and gripping set instrumental layering. But as it rounds around some rough edges, I found quite a bit to love about Love Hallucination, from Lanza’s performances to clean touches on the synths, making this one modestly memorable Electronic album.
With luscious percussion throughout, there is a hardened thread connecting the juncture between the beginning and end, especially as it teeters between vocal textures and instrumental choices, like how the enigmatic techno-pop opener, “Don’t Leave Me Now,” is in contrast to the elevated, atmospheric connection beneath, like when Jessy Lanza incorporates some subtle jazz notes before going full sax on the last song. The synths on Love Hallucination aren’t the most potent, feeling like a bridge between the dance flows, mostly centered on a slower tempo. It’s an ever-changing landscape where more high-pitched synths become modestly homogenized amongst the rest, feeling negligibly typical on a few occasions, like on “Drive,” where the percussion is more pronounced and with a core that’s more futuristically bubbly, the glitch synths commandeer more a pulse than other synths. “Drive’” is rare in that the writing focuses on the overlaying thematic range of typicality – reflections, introspections, and more – what Lanza does differently is set a path for the listener to lean on and feel the progression of time with situations and emotions felt.
Before “Drive,” on “Big Pink Rose,” Jessy sings about love as a concept she feels doesn’t connect with her as she aims to create distance, and “Drive” shifts it into gear from what was said before, furthering the emotional depth, by steering a focused need for separation and living freely; it’s heard in aspects of the music, like the individualized narrative focusing on being. However, when the production gets less immersed in melancholic EDM-like synths and more pop flavors, there is a slight delineation from more standard complexions of the genres, and most of it comes from how the percussion gets used to finding new avenues to elevate the minor stuff. It’s a continuous flow of consciousness where Jessy Lanza feels more connected to the music, especially with the emotions running through her veins with a silent ferocity. What I mean by this is that Lanza’s soft vocals rarely feel like it’s taking a backseat instead of finding a place in the front row. “Big Pink Rose” is one of a few instances where you hear a slight disconnect between the two, and more because her vocals aren’t amplified enough within a centralized zone of a shared stage.
“Big Pink Rose” is modestly effective, especially as it gets slightly louder in the second half, but there isn’t that smooth kineticism of “Don’t Cry On My Pillow” or “Midnight Ontario.” It isn’t trying to share the stage or take hold of the wheel and letting the writing speak for itself, like how in “Midnight Ontario,” where she questions love as it pertains to her. In essence, the album speaks about love through varying dimensions, whether realizing the effect it has between two people physically or mentally or even how the demonstrative breakdown leads to individual reflections, like Lanza’s disdain for her ex on “Don’t Cry On My Pillow,” or her trepidation leaving on “Don’t Leave Me,” the music stays refined with bolstering these reflections significantly, specifically as it breaks down varying emotional strains, like anger, sadness, and fragility, the latter of which gets heard beautifully on “Gossamer” and “I Hate Myself.” “I Hate Myself” does what “Drive” does, where the meditative writing lets one zone out with the music and feel what she’s saying.
Most songs bring enough energy within the percussion and influence from other forms of electronica, like the glitchy synths, but the vocals are the glue holding it together. Jessy Lanza is weaving these unique vocal complexions with some distinctive production – at times, they never stray from its central hold, feeling slightly confined within this summery space and rarely taking an extra step to be something grander. However, it’s great quality, keeping you focused on the positives, like the song “Marathon,” which incorporates some jazzy undertones, encapsulating its sense of being with the smooth sax in the opening. Though maintained in its stratosphere, it’s clear that Jessy Lanza is going in a new direction that’s more poppy and danceable but carries sufficient depth that it imbues the energy of slower, more calming dance vibes. It has an identity and rarely tries to re-enforce it willingly through some synth notes, like with “Double Time,” which tries hard to feel more like an antithesis to the first track – more so with the production as the BPM tempers and some minor minimalist choices aren’t as potent. Though it’s a weak closer, it isn’t all disappointing, as the split actions have something going, but Lanza’s vocals close it fantastically.
Love Hallucination is a focused and concise album that aims to be different, and though it is at points, it rarely got to the level where I loved the production more than the performance, despite wanting them to be equal. It’s more dependent on the style of the writing – “Drive” and “I Hate Myself” compared to “Marathon” or “Gossamer” – it’s a solid summer album that will hold a special place for future summer replays beyond this year. Give it a shot, and I hope you enjoy this lovely album by Jessy Lanza.
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