Geotic - Traversa

October 19, 2018 - Ghostly International

Traversa, William Wiesenfeld’s latest release under the moniker Geotic, is an anti-nihilistic effortfully chipper album that finds Wiesenfeld drawing a thinner border between Geotic and his more well known project, Baths. Distinguished by Wiesenfeld as active vs passive listening, Geotic represents the latter, and leashes the listener to a more well-drawn path with guided hypnotic qualities and estuarial excesses. It’s a motherly outcome, well in tune with Piaget’s stages. Wiesenfeld combines atmosphere and melodic direction to anchoring effect in what could otherwise be highly destabilizing soundscape or tripgaze-shoe-whatever. Yet, such surefooted caregiving allows us to explore our surroundings and grow without fear of later becoming violent or antisocial in adulthood.

Depending on which language a person cares to translate the title into, a body gets a few different reads of the arc. I am going to pick the translation that best fits my thesis, which is Spanish, and is a transitive verb used primarily for nautical purposes: stay (as in to stay a ship). Other readings more obviously lend themselves to travelers or traverser in one conjugation or another. (Italian harbors some especially poetic associations). 

The plight of Los Angeleans and Silicon Valley dwellers threads the first track ‘Knapsack’: A strong desire to be away from the city, a little comic book magical thinking, and “a hundred thousand trees/miles taller than me.” Already Traversa is a cognitively dissonant album, but not without stability. The desire to escape, to be in nature drives the lyrics, but the inability to enjoy nature for itself underpins. The narrator is having a nice time, on purpose. Wiesenfeld’s integration of fantasy articulates the distance between the nature-goer’s expectations, his or her efforts, and the fruits of. Even though the magic isn’t quite there, the importance of making the effort is. Throughout most of these songs, there is a faint sadness, but there is also a solution to the sadness, even if it isn’t perfect. It’s to try.

Anyway. ‘Swiss Bicycle’ is track number two. It’s lyric-less, which is a strength. The offbeat synth and alternately visceral and synthetic percussion Huckleberry along as good old American gumption. It’s plucky and paddy and occasionally piano trickles over the plodding. But wait. It doesn’t go anywhere. And there is an awareness of that immobility drummed up in the repetition. Breathy synths conjure a long sigh. The defiant optimism—the intentional naivety—has lost its steam. Nothing that alleviates is forthcoming. An elegant bit of string composition plays out the remainder and overtakes the repetitive layers ‘Swiss Bicycle’ built itself on. The layers, without warning, re-emerge. 

Enjoy, this is a triumphant moment.

Now it’s arpeggio time. ‘Harbor Drive’ takes up the lead and swindles my affections by incorporating the bridge from Seal’s ‘Kiss by a Rose.’ Thus I have a feeling, and I’m not sure if I can attribute it to Geotic, but I’m not so callow as to shunt the homage altogether. Field recordings play their biggest role yet without pushing any envelopes since they are mostly waterfront noises. 

Switching locals from the destination-less ‘Knapsack,’ to ‘Swiss Bicycle,’ and again to ‘Harbor Drive’ (one of which is in San Diego, and another more noteworthy among urban planners in Portland Oregon) Traversa’s underpinning—Stay the ship—begins the detangling (not to say that no kinks remain) of a person lost in fantasy and alternatively lost without it. This is an album about maintaining, despite whatever.

‘Aerostat’ takes its title from a thesaurus excerpt to hint at lyrical poignancy with an obscure Latin root. For the most part Wiesenfeld delivers real depth. The lyrics bolstered by drowning complex horns and strings, detail (at least with a little effort from the listener) the metaphorical transformation. Of an aerostat into a free flying hot air balloon, an aerostat being something akin to a hot air ballon, but something typically tethered in place. The lyrics are simple, the instrumentation orchestrally subtle. 

The glitchy drumroll ‘Town Square’ muddies out the middle of the album with an odd mixture of highly articulate percussions that lean into an ASMRI experience. Elements which appear earlier in the album in their own highlights commingle in ‘Town Square.’ Double layered violins pull lead which falls back on previous moods with less clarity. This isn’t necessarily a problem. A moment without direction seems to be the whole point.

Then for some reason we (if we’re bing as sympathetic as possible) are in space and high. At once an allegory for love not quite panning out and a stoner’s origin story postulation, ‘Terraformer,’ features Wiesenfeld’s vocal play normally reserved for Baths. It’s a charming counterweight to the frustrating lyrics which have the gall to say things like “Architecture of the mind and heart,” as though by themselves these were profound turns of phrase. Yet Mother Geotic does not let us down entirely. “Tres softly if you have to harm,” he says. Good advice. Gentle. Nice Guy. We’ve been spoken to with wisdom. 

‘Gondolier’ does a little redeeming, pulling away from the obliquely high minded language in ‘Terraformer,’ to talk more closely about what is meant. It’s difficult to tell what is artistry and what is unsure footing in Wiesenfeld’s lyrical cadence. By now, the rattling field percussion is a mainstay. It’s a tool to draw the listener out of the background, and it works. The rudiments are activating to the ear, making it difficult to drift off. Traversa. 

Finally, finally, finally there’s ‘Maglev,’ named after the magnetic train rail. The Seal theme makes a final deconstructions appearance alongside more plucky offbeat pep and chipper riffs. A final meandering brings back elements from each song, inflating the effect of ‘Town Square.’ I feel relieved when it’s over. I’m glad to be grown up. I feel ready to cope with many things, among them the perks and deficits of Traversa. I can stay myself against them. ⛰️