What is it with bands and being incognito these days? On some level I get it — personally I relish runs to the corner store in deliberately ridiculous outfits involving Uggs and hats and throwback Starter jackets — but as a journalist, I’m confused about how to acknowledge your work without understanding who exactly to acknowledge.
It’s with this skepticism toward the new anonymity (see: the Weeknd) that I approached Rhye, an L.A.-based duo introduced on the Fader blog last week with the caveat, “details are being withheld about (their) identities.” Still, Rhye’s debut single, “Open,” had received a heart-y commendation from the always on-point DJ Denise Benson so I ventured forth and was, predictably, struck. Meaning, it soundtracked an entire weekend.
“Open” is so good because it lays bare its romanticism. There’s the solemn hymnal melody underpinning orchestral swells (hear that bassoon!) and babbling guitar and naked singing. It makes liberal use of the caricaturized love fool, besotted with the intimacies of partnership: “I’m a fool for that shake in your thighs, I’m a fool for you’re the sound in your sighs, I’m a fool for your belly, I’m a fool for your love.”
And the voice! This is where the shadowy origins of Rhye become interesting. The sculpted highs limn some femininity out of what’s basically an androgynous voice. Personally excited by the idea of a new meditative contralto singer to fixate on, I assumed it was a woman.
Wrong. And my mistake led to uncovering a bit of the story behind Rhye. The singer is actually Torontonian Mike Milosh, a classically trained cellist who recorded a few auteur-ish records of sentimental, minimal electronic sounds between 2004 and 2008 to quiet acclaim. Milosh outs himself on his Twitter page, but if you need more proof, cue up YouTube.
Anupa Mistry writes about music for Toronto Standard. You can follow her on Twitter at @_anupa.
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