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Doss - Softpretty

The first staccato notes of Doss's SoftPretty matched my footsteps as I excitedly half skipped out of my building into the humid New York autumn evening. By the time the door slammed shut behind me, I was well on my way to Astor Place and the train up towards the awful buzzing sheen of Times Square. Like the vast majority of my neighbors, I recoil at the thought of having to visit that pulsating tangle of humanity. Doss's music engages with the saccarine pop sensibility that runs through the neon blood of Times Square. Unlike the critiques of and odes to the style offered by her PC Music affiliates, Doss eschews the hyperdrive approach for a more distanced exploration of the style, borrowing more from the chill out end of the spectrum. The ecstatic upbeat themes are hollowed out, exposing the insecure mealoncholy that is left unadressed, repressed beneath the veneer of Times Square and its cultural kin. I couldn't be bothered to examine that subtext as I sat on the train, hazy head bubbling with the thought that I was going to see her again tonight. She had just gotten in that day and would only be there the night before moving on. She had just flown in from Europe, and would soon be on her way half way across the country the next day, but tonight, we'd be together.

I used the list spot she'd provided to get in and sent her a text. I bounced through the massive labyrinth of venue and crowd and made my way to the merch table that was to be our meeting place. Sometimes on a listen to Softpretty, the intro before the vocals feels like it drags. It isn't unbearable, but the waiting causes the delicate sweetness to shift to the side of overwhelming. Those stacatto hits are joined by twinkling steel drums, soft pads, and a smooth humming bass before the upright-yet-skeletal drums kick in. Although the elements themselves seem like parts of a more energetic whole, the build feels dispassionate if you're listening too closely. I looked down at my phone again to see if there were any messages for me. I looked back up from the blank screen and around at the crowd anxiously. Young adults in standard issue neon EDM wear excitedly bounced around me, their kinetic fervour only adding to my anxiety. I repeated the ritual a couple more times before she finally, she appeared from backstage. Our conversation was brief. She was working, she had to get back. Maybe we'd see eachother again at the Doss show downtown tonight before she left. Whatever.

I found a spot a ways away from the stage and stood there surrounded by a sea of people, feeling alone and texting her. After the build, a breathy, apathetic female vocal murmurs, "I don't care about anyone... about anyone". the phrase is drawn out, adding a sense of self-awareness to the lyric. However intentional it might sound, the lack of drive behind the voice signals the ambiguity of the truth behind the statement. Whatever, I tell myself. She's just busy and at least you got to see eachother as much as you did. It sucks, but thats the situation and I'm not going to let this get to me. I don't care. We text back and forth about the show as it's going on. I give her my notes, trying not to sound too bitter, and she tells me she appreciates them. As the act comes to an end, I text her again and see if she's coming downtown to see the Doss show that night. I check my phone periodically for an update as I slowly make my way through the throng of people still fixated on the stage and the acts to follow. After hanging around the venue lobby waiting for a response and getting none, I made my way back to the train to head downtown to the Financial District.

After a long train ride, I got out of the subway to find some apologetic texts from her. She's sorry, she can't make it tonight. She's sad and she misses me. She wishes we had more time together. In the next line of the song, the voice intones, "I don't care if you put it on... if you put it on". It seems like somewhat of a contradiction of the first line. I don't care about anyone, but I want you to behave in a certain way, even if that means being untrue to what you really feel. Its an admission of a defeat so strong that the truth of the situation is just unbearable and even a reality known to be false is preferable. Its bargaining; I know I'm not going to get what I want, but can I at least have this substitute? I made my way in the chilling night to China Chalet and the show I'd been waiting for. The line that was spilling outside with familiar types and for the first time that night I started to feel at ease. I entered restaurant turned club and lost myself in the cigarette hazed interior. First to the bar for drinks, then to find my way to that hidden, pulsing music. After the initial chorus, the melody shifts from the self assured front of the opening and shows more ambiguous emotional range. By lowering its gaurd, the song loses a bit of its self indulgent mealoncholy and seems to explore the possibility of a state between the extremes of happiness and sadness. Yeah, she got to me. I do care and it feels fucked up. I get another drink at the bar and allow myself to be hypnotized by the music.

How long have I been here? How much have I had to drink? I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned in time to see a guy leaning over to shout into my ear over the music. He awkwardly informs me that we are the two awkward, tall white guys there. I mean, he isn't wrong. He's a networking solutions contractor from Brooklyn and just came out because he loves the music. I tell him I'm there for the same reason. He complains that he can't find any coke at the party, but offers me some molly. I hesitate before giving in and washing it down with another drink. The room gets a little cloudy and everyone gets a little closer. Messkid is playing a great set and every second brings us closer to Doss. I turn to see my new friend is hooking up with some girl and take the opportunity to slip further into the crowd. Out of the darkness, I see long black hair flownig out from under what looks like a baseball cap made out of white wire. Under the hat, eyes are looking up at me and I see a wide grin that mirrors what I'm sure is my own goofy expression. The vocals come back "I don't care about anyone".

In the last bar, the pads cut out, carrying the tone up and refuting the underlying doubt of the opening.

#pc music #china chalet #doss #softpretty