Somfay, aka Jesse Somfay (their real name) is a Canadian artist that we had in mind since the very beginning of the label. Among the mass of so-called melodic techno that was released between 2002 and 2010, Somfay’s early tracks "Can You See Me I’m Waving", "Small Pebbled Forest" and even the very progressive neo-trance one "This Fragile Addiction" are these particular tracks way ahead of their time, that you still remember years after their release date. 

Somfay's music somehow was the most obscure, the most daring and radical part of an electronic genre that used to be obscure and would soon become more accessible, more polished and almost mainstream around 2012. And hopefully what was to happen to this laid-back trance-ish melodic sound was not going to happen to Somfay's music. Through the years, the artist has taken a completely different path, and the more this evermore trendy sound was becoming generic and depersonalized, the more Jesse's sound was becoming personal, unrivalled and unique.

To a certain extent, this early melodic-techno scene has probably provided Jesse a good basis - like the late 80's post-rock and industrial UK scene has provided a good basis to the likes of Aphex Twin and Autechre - for further development, a proper development which, on the opposite of the loud mass, was going to be a more quiet, a more tranquil and serene one, far away from the loudness war, far away from the hyper-agressive tracks mastering made to fit smartphones' speakers and far away from these formatted tracks dedicated only to the big rooms and to their dedicated crowd.

Whenever a documentary on the history of electronic music shows up, you can expect at least a good half of it showing big rooms, festivals, love parades videos and such things, known as the historic part of electronic culture, and sadly much less videos of what's actually happening in an artist's bedroom or studio, a hidden process which is completely different, being much quieter and much more discrete, probably quite close to a painter's one in front of their trestle.

We can imagine that Jesse's music is perhaps an individual response to what's happening on the other hand, in the outside world and in the ears of the agitated, restless and turbulent ones. Like: Is it the only way electronic music can live? Is it its only aim to make sub roar in thousands of people crowds? Is it just a functional thing? A mass consumption product? An experience for everyone like a rollercoaster is? Isn't there another way it could be a part of our life? Couldn't it be the ideal partner of careful and peaceful moments at home like a book or a movie is?

It's not often that such questions are asked, and even less often that an artist supplies such a brilliant package of delicate, almost "shy" tracks that it might constitute a proper answer to these questions, so much that their very special flavour, their inner splendour might require a priorly established appeasement, a bit of calm and a step back from the outside world's speed and noise, just like a handful of writers' work should demand wide open brains and mind to be fully appreciated.

And what should it be open to? What is there to catch in Somfay's music which could be missed if not in the right state? It is a bit of nonsense and misinterpretation because what's obvious at the first listen of the first minute of an exquisite track like “Waterwalker” (or “Liquid Lake”) is that it's somehow very catchy, very effective, almost "easy listening" in a way. In one word, it works. It works well, and while the gentle half-dissonant pads pave the way to an ever-growing synth (that sounds half like a piece of wood and half like a synth), the track progresses in the most conventional way.

And even more, after a full listen, the track has done its job, the minor chords have earned their wages for the day, but it feels like there's nothing too different about the track in itself, nothing that would make them so unique and nothing that would require another listen to be apprehended or understood. This is a bluff! Ninety-nine percent of each of this EP’s tracks richness lie in the obscured (perhaps not deliberately?), parts, the almost invisible, unhearable covered up parts, roughly speaking the details.

How about this chord loop that sounds like a one-bar-loop on “Waterwalker”, but is never exactly the same, yet the dissonance being so light, so soft that the biggest part of it's emotional content is preserved, and it's impact remains the same while some real magic is happening in the speakers? Yes, Jesse is doing melodic music, a highly efficient melodic form of electronic music, but also a very complex one.

While writing with Somfay about influences and experimentation, they said it clearly after being asked if they were doing other sorts of music as well: "I am primarily responsive to melodies and harmony, these have the most powerful effect on me". It is clear enough. It might sound a bit reductive but that would be a huge mistake to think so. Indeed, if Jesse uses typical and somehow common minor chords, it is only an excuse, only the first step to an incredibly extended field of options to work these chords with; It is only the foundation of an unwieldy sophisticated structure where these chords can go through so many steps, be flattened, smoothened, rounded, curved, expanded, reduced, tuned, detuned, retuned...

If music could be "cosy", "sweet" and "cute", this is what Somfay's track would sound like at first listen. But only at first listen, it is a disguise and all the rest is profoundly buried and hidden by this artist's genuine craftsmanship and skills, may it be hundreds of synthesizer layers working together, or a fireworks-like chain of effects? We haven't asked this one question to them. And that's probably one of the keys of these tracks' greatness: the fact that they're at the same time ideal companions for a winter chimney fire contemplation and the fact that deep down, they have enough intricate details to justify a million of listens.

This is at the same time expertly and meticulously crafted electronic music and easily accessible emotion for the uninitiated. Shy and shining music partly unveiled for everyone but fully unveiled only to the ones who are ready for it, the ones who will let it unveil slowly like good wine, through memory, seasons, and repeated listens. In addition to the aforementioned "Liquid Lake”, and "Waterwalker”, are another two tracks full of evidence, which are also great examples of the Canadian artist's impeccable melodicity and constant attempt at creating a whole new melodic world, where Somfay, the conductor, leads the way to sounds instead of instrumentalists, leaving a part of the sacrosanct and untouchable remaining untouched, and adding a bit of fantasy and magic to it, all so well done that it sounds like nothing has ever been touched to the pre-established rules.

This should also be the case for the two other tracks filling the EP, filling it so well that it seems that each track is belonging to the same tonal scale, and sounds like it is only the harmonic inversion or reversion of the previous one you just listened, as if the minor-third of the previous track now became the fundamental, the ruling note of the currently listened one... Or is it?

Also check Waterwalker [PKS 1302-102 - Cathartes Aura - The Sapphire Rose] music video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RdsE4qUxqU