Living Like There’s No Tomorrow, But Killing Yourself in the Process
by Laurence Guy (Album, 2023)
It’s been about six years that I’ve tracked the trajectories of “Lo-Fi House” artists (that may have only been placed there because of a track or two), and so many of the more prominent producers have moved on from the washed out sounds of the genre, or transfigured the sound for their own musical identity.
Laurence Guy follows the latter, whose most popular release “Saw You For The First Time” remains a classic but a time capsule for 2017, in which Lo-Fi House was classy but distant from its listener—tracks of the time hid itself in low-pass filters and reverb, unfriendly to traditional club music, more suited for a cafe.
“Living Like There’s No Tomorrow” is more emotionally on par with the soundtrack to “Eternal Sunshine”—a bittersweet atmosphere with reversed synths and wandering strings.
While tracks like “Obstacle 3” and “I’ve Been Much Too Distant For Most of My Life” still feel insular, they present a complex amount of production techniques to achieve the effect. Rather than Lo-Fi, I’d say we more likely have an example of “Expressive House”, a further development of dance music as a means of emotional exploration rather than simply fodder for club DJs.
The album is bookended by examples of Laurence Guy’s tone poems, using minor-keyed samples of utterances, from “On Your Side” to “Don’t Live In Oblivion, It’s Cold Down There”. “Pissing In The Personal Growth Room” lays it all out with a piano solo.
Guy’s 2017 album hint at these aspirations to move beyond pure dance music; by 2023 we’ve found the culmination of an artist that has become well-rounded in moving productions, no matter the structure of the electronics or instrumentation.
The other half of the album shows Guy’s new abilities to provide a backdrop for various R&B, spoken word vocalists, and rappers. “Ways” chops up a soul track to showcase Chester Watson’s smooth rapping. “Iron Mask” is a blues track that still chops up samples, a staple for Guy, even as the sounds and analog percussion are unprecedented for the artist.
Laurence Guy has gone beyond what I can expect from him, which will make his future work even more exciting to track. Last year’s “My Heart Still Leans On You” is still the best rendition of Guy’s move into R&B productions, but this album is a solid exercise for an artist that seeks more than the comfort of Lo-Fi House, and has paved a new trail to embark on.