Review: Youth Lagoon - Wondrous Bughouse

There's no secret that Trevor Powers, the mind behind the Boise, Idaho bedroom pop project Youth Lagoon, had crafted one of the most emotionally in tune and powerful releases of that year. Months before the album's release, when single "July" dropped out of the blue from an unknown Bandcamp, there was an immediate spark: a spark that would have kept one's attention from the single's release, all the way to the album's. The magic and intensity that "July" had kept in it's tight, reserved, barely-audible vocals and massive, slow-building and extremely satisfying build was perfectly matched across the album's short-but-sweet eight tracks. Each track holding a mystery to be solved both in the music itself and the emotion in Power's lyrics and vocal delivery. What exactly was he saying, and should we care?

 The answer is yes. Power's sang about everything you think a bedroom pop producer would sing about living in Idaho. Themes of growing up, loneliness and the world were spread thick throughout. The delivery of the vocals, which sound of a young boy, fit perfectly as if that same boy were singing these songs and asking these questions and singing about these topics. Two years later, Youth Lagoon makes a comeback with an album called Wondrous Bughouse, still toying with the idea of childhood with such an album name and song titles such as "Raspberry Cane" and "Daisyphobia" and ridiculously colorful album cover, but as soon as the introspective and well-qualified and predisposed intro track, you can immediately tell that this boy has grown up. And this is the boy that got hit with the puberty train. Hard.

Wondrous Bughouse comes across as clumsy even in its first few minutes. And with every track that follows. What happened to the magic that was kept so well in the moments of The Year of Hibernation? Strong moments like that were very open to improvement and hopefully were to happen with the maturing of Powers, but we are met with unoriginal, repetitive tracks spread across an overlong album. Whatever springy and wonky instrumentation Powers was so obsessed with over the fleshing-out of these tunes isn't very suiting to the nature of his music. The instrumentation reminds me of someone taking a tour of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, and being amazed by all of the things he sees around him. All of the beautiful and surrealistic set pieces and aromas that intoxicate his nostrils come over this boy like it is the first day of his life, and once they roll around to the candy making machines and sorts, none of the robotics and mechanics are working and making all sorts of nasty, thick, loud and chugging sounds, but no-one is willing to do anything about them, because hey: you're in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. The magic is still somewhere hidden in there, but it's just hard to focus on it with all of the noisiness and secondhand annoyances taking place around you. Singles "Mute" and "Dropla" are among the album's highest points, and occur at the beginning and middle of the album provide a well-needed crutch to the album.

So the boy is now all grown up and the sparks are gone. He still talks about his knowledge of the world and his uncertainty in it as well, but it's just so hard to take him seriously when a flame cannot be lit. He's a teenager, he smells, and he's basically good-for-nothing when it comes to an opinion. Powers tries to make an attempt at a more expansive and adventurous sophomore LP incorporating a full band into some tracks and creating an wide-yet-awkward atmosphere for the songs to settle in, but it comes off as a confused, clumsy and unfocused piece of work.

5/10