Jeff Bernat

In early April of this year, 20-year-old producer Cavalier released his debut full-length album “Innate,” a piece of music that was beyond anything many people could’ve expected. The young composer and producer conceived of a project that explored the ins and outs of the human experience, and he did it with nothing more than ambition and a brilliant idea.

Inward

“Innate” is a study of the human anatomy, taking the sound from the broad image of the body and digging inside to find what makes it function. With “Inward,” Cavalier very cleverly, if not tentatively, introduces the instrument. His music acts as the scalpel. “Inward” is the initial dig inside, the first incision, if you will, before crawling in completely to find out how the body works. In this piece he not only introduces his brand of scatter-beat lo-fi, he also hints at moments when voices will duck in and out. We’re already set up for the somewhat erratic nature of his sound, then given a taste of what vocal musings feel like within the space.

Flesh

From there, Cavalier goes a step further, touching, then excavating the outer layer of skin. “Flesh” is just that. A playful touch that leads to the exciting discovery of all the things the biggest organ of our bodies can do. This is Cavalier at his most whimsical on the album. There are starts and stops–fingers skipping across imperfections, small hairs, and goose bumps. It’s as if he’s discovering the skin for the first time, or at least finding out for himself what it’s capable of.

Bacteria

Rightfully so, probably one of the album’s most sonically dissonant pieces is “Bacteria.” It sounds as its title implies: an itchy piece of music that crawls beneath the epidermis and causes the cells to pop. Just as in the elements of the human body, there are moments of purity, healing sounds that calm the heart. Then there are moments full of uncontrolled energy that cause the body to become anxious, fettered with unease. It’s a marvelously complex piece of music. It is the microscope. When the sound swells, Cavalier is looking deeper, enhancing the image in front of him to see past the first layer of himself to find the atoms and molecules that make up his being. He dissects himself (through the composition) to investigate the makeup of those germs that make his mind function.

Synesthesia

From concrete explorations, we hit our first abstract idea of what it means to be human. There’s certainly something deeper in the track “Synesthesia,” something lower down that buzzes and curls in the gut. The bass is … thicker. Meaning there’s heaviness there, but it’s not a crunching bass that can pulsate and torture the ears. Rather, this is a bit of music that’s meant to titillate, not overstimulate. It’s a breathe on skin, a bit of hotness playing across the abdomen. Just as the title suggests, the sound is very focused, as opposed to some of the more scattered aspects of Cavalier’s production. There are certainly shifts in musical dynamic throughout, but it’s all very controlled. Nothing gets too far from his grasp as he manipulates the listener’s ear, teases the flesh and mind with the sinister playfulness of the song’s tone and direction.

Empathy

Then comes the softness. “Empathy” acts as a shift in musical narrative, being the first in a series of songs that explore smoother tones. If the first four tracks of the album were the initial excavation of the body, what follows is Cavalier settling into the rhythm of its ebbs and flows. He has become one with the biorhythms inherent in our existence. Now he’s just allowing himself to ride the wave of each part. “Empathy”–again a title befitting the song’s construction–is Cavalier adapting himself to his surroundings. He’s become so close to the community within he’s now able to feel as the body feels. That is, he can fit his mood to the body’s natural inclinations.

Mortal

It’s oftentimes tricky for albums that are so focused on composition to add spoken or sung sound to the mix. Adding a singer or rapper to an album so heavy in intricate production can disrupt the magic of the piece, add a plot hole to the overall narrative of sound, especially when the lyrics don’t match the soundscape. However, vocalists work like a dream for Cavalier, whose compositions are intricate but open enough to welcome words and voices. With “Inward” we heard the first inclinations of what he could do with voice when added to the scope of his composition. “Synesthesia” showcased how the subtle vocal could add texture to the sound’s narrative.

The first full vocal cut on the album, “Mortal,” is the perfect way to introduce the concept of another person’s presence in his music. It also does a fine job exploring the nature of human existence. Jeff Bernat has a soothing timbre that doesn’t force itself on the listener. Rather, the voice and the music work in concert to create a sound profile that’s as rich in depth as the instrumental tracks on the album. Bernat’s coo and Cavalier’s penchant for the sensual turns what could’ve been a heavy-handed bit of sex into something quite intimate and emotional, turns heavy petting into soft caresses in softer light. It was clever to open the song on pixelated breath, a ragged sigh that leans into the first note from Bernat’s lips.

Warping

What gives me the impression that Cavalier studies a bevy of nu-wave producers and dabbles in the deep house, nu-jazz scene is the pure sex and sensation of tracks like “Warping.” There’s an edge to the production that’s very reminiscent of artists like Vikter Duplaix, particularly the way he uses space and silence between notes. Even the use of sparse piano has a dark bit of lust at the music’s rounded corners. I get hints of songs like “Desperately” from Duplaix’s “International Affairs” album–a cut that’s thick with lust and tastes like chocolate and deep things. Cavalier has a great deal of the lover in him to concoct a song this ripe for lovemaking.

White Noise

No doubt the track most listeners will automatically flock to is the collaboration with Crush and EZRA. Though it’s a shame they’d skip the full feast of music before, there’s good reason this is a track many may gravitate to. Cavalier’s sensual production meshes like magic with Crush’s silken vocal delivery and matches in intensity when EZRA delivers his subdued verse. “White Noise” is an apt title for the way the music scatters and shifts with the understated delivery of its two features. It’s meant to work as background sound, music that muffles the senses while simultaneously keeping the mind awash in fantasy. It’s a dangerous cut, using seduction as a weapon.

Nothingness

From the stinging stimulation of “White Noise,” we get something to soothe the ache and want. “Nothingness” certainly isn’t an absence of sound or substantial emotion. However, it does the work of easing the listener back into the music, allowing the skin to breathe for just a moment. It does the work of reintroducing Cavalier’s intricate composition without doing too much to overcrowd the listener’s senses.

Subconscious

“Subconscious” sneaks in on a suggestion, something niggling in the back of your mind that you know is there but you’re having a hard time reaching. The music in this case is subdued, devoid of much of the fanfare of the songs preceding it. “Nothingness” allowed the mind to go blank. Now Cavalier is imploring us to fill it back up with something: a memory, a thought, a dream. There are moments when the music is flimsy at the edges, as if just the start of an idea. As the song comes to a close, on a sizzle that pops, then fades out, we get glimmers of what could be the beginning of something new.

Euphoria

Thus the album’s closer, “Euphoria.” We’ve reached the end of a journey through our bodies, minds, and the furthest parts of our intellect. There’s an obvious bounce to the music, again adding substance to the abstract idea the song’s title puts forth. There are starbursts scattered throughout. Bits of sound that explode into starlight. The music acts as little sprinkles of dust that make their way from our minds and travel back through us, giving us life.

Conclusion

“Innate” delves deep into the human psyche as well as how the mind interacts with the body. You can quite literally feel the album on a molecular level. Cavalier is an ambitious producer and intelligent composer. There are shades of Flying Lotus (during his “Until the Quiet Comes”/”You’re Dead.” eras) and Iglooghost, at times. Yet there are moments where the velveteen nature of the tracks falls more in line with Vikter Duplaix. It’s an album about the nature of humans, how we connect with each other and how we further connect within ourselves, naturally and on instinct. “Innate” is a gorgeous piece of work that opens the listeners up to parts of themselves they may have never explored before.

 

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Edited by Lena