After one listen to La Big Vic’s Cold War, you will likely notice a group that thrives on the influence of dichotomy; a collective of musicians that exist in the space between classical and electronic, the polarity of such varying cultures and find themselves most comfortable at the center of what pulls them all together. Upon further research, it should make complete sense to learn that this odd amalgamate of a former J-Pop boy band member turned multi-instrumentalist producer, a classically trained vocalist and violinist, and a synthesizer composer and former apprentice to Pink Floyd’s live sound producer would all find each other in the melting pot that is New York City, and more specifically, the city’s most eclectic borough, Brooklyn.
Neither pop nor orchestral, glitchy or vocal-driven, La Big Vic are not that of one member’s contextual background–or even the marriage one would expect from such broad strokes–but an experimentation in avant-garde dream-pop whose textures make for some of the widest and ethereal soundscapes of this genre’s current wave. Stand-out tracks like “All That Heaven Allows” and “Ave B” put this often times otherworldly ambience on full display, fusing twitchy synthesizer lines and beefy violin riffs, whilst maintaining a tight song-structure that pushes back on the temptation of monotony. On the other side of the spectrum, the instrumental “Nuclear Bomb” embraces these inclinations for the brevity of a three-and-a-half minute movement of noisy and arresting gusto that is both angular and deliberate.
With Cold War, La Big Vic present themselves as a group who has managed an incredible creative maturity in the time between their first album and this sophomore effort. With more hits than misses and a few extra tricks up their sleeve, there’s no telling the lengths this group will achieve in the years to come. If one thing’s for certain, it’s bound to be the exact opposite of most critic’s presumptions.
// Sound Affects
"The man whose songs were recorded by Johnny Cash, Alan Jackson, Ricky Skaggs, David Allan Coe, The Highwaymen, and countless others succumbs to time’s cruel cue that the only token of permanence we have to offer are the effects of shared moments and memories.READ the article