Young Montana? | “Limerence”
There are a few things that become apparent after listening to Young Montana?‘s debut, Limerence LP. The first – the elephant in the room, and a sign of my own bias as a writer – is that he clearly did not think of reviewers when picking his recording his name. Young Montana? is a clunky sobriquet – it wreaks havoc with sentences and just doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue the same way that, say, Samiyam does. So that’s a trivial thing out of the way. The second thing to notice, which segues directly into the third, and easily most important, is that this consolidates the credentials of Mary Anne Hobbs to no end. The vaunted English radio host selected the 20-year-old Coventry resident as her favourite unsigned artist of 2010. Well, thanks in part to her, he doesn’t have to worry about the unsigned bit anymore. But it is thanks mostly to himself, as Young Montana? has made an album that is implausibly good; especially for an early effort. It more or less blows all beats efforts released since Cosmogramma (FlyLo), or perhaps Ctrl-Alt-Delete (Free the Robots) out of the water.

A lot of beatmakers fulfil the role of musical artisans. They work modestly, with Ableton as their hammer and chisel; whittling a vast edifice of influences and references into a manageable form that yields traces of each. Of course YM? works within those same confines. But his tools seem that much sharper; and the end result is shrewder and somehow grander. There isn’t the same modesty that seems to weigh down so many instrumental releases. There is a scope and a talent and a great ear for the space and context of songs; where many producers would simply let a sample or beat run on, YM? is brave and creative enough to often insert another. As a result, Limerence feels like the densest and finely-woven sonic tapestry I’ve had the privilege to hear for a while – not for the quantity of samples, but how judiciously they are selected. It is a strange pleasure hearing Skip James – that’s 1930s bluesman Skip James – melded into ‘Sacre Cool’.

One of the most directly honest quotes I’ve heard in music was Bob Dylan’s succinct appraisal of Brian Wilson: ‘That ear – I mean, Jesus, he’s got to will that to the Smithsonian.’ It’s a hugely complimentary remark that honours Wilson’s legendary and singular ear for a hook, chorus, or melody. Well, that should be expanded to an ear for samples and beats. YM? has that sort of ear, and he’s stuffed Limerence full of grooves and melody. And don’t ask for individual highlights; they’re all equally important. If you remove even a single patch from a hand-sewn quilt, then it’s not nearly as effective as it was before.

Album review courtesy of We Are Rebels