evbot - vignettes (one)

The beginnings of concrete slabs littered with more concrete. Scattered stairs leading to a home unbuilt yet. To me this dusty nine minute tape is about foundations; not opening the door to a grand offering of luxury and riches but existing as the trustworthy and sturdy stairs that lead up to that door. Sometimes this reliability is all I really want to feel in music - when a day’s twists and turns throws you off, all you want to hear are raw buttery loops hitting the headphones. Lately, vignettes (one) has been a prime example of this, and I throw it on when I know I’ve got a spare 10 and need a quick pick-me-up (training it home from work, washing the dishes, going for a quick walk around the block - the list goes on). “Moments in time,” the tape consists of a series of beautiful chops never overcooked and seasoned just right, soul and jazz cuts pitched up and down looping to oblivion. In a way this tape really has a mind of its own, each vignette starting and ending at their own autonomy, like even evbot doesn’t have control over it. So many of the gorgeous vocal chops beg rappers to spit a quick 16, but it’s in some of the quieter moments that this music’s intimacy wraps around you, like the slinky interplay of bass and guitar with warm keys ringing out at about 4:44. This tape is designed to be listened to in-full, and every time I’ve pressed play since it dropped in September, I haven’t ever wanted it to stop. Whether the stairs on the cover are leading to something even greater; whether they’re just building blocks that boost each beat from the last, or whether it means nothing at all, it doesn’t really matter - I press play and let my mind wander, again and again and again.