If you look back over the myriad records and digital downloads you’ve possessed over the years, you’ll likely notice something that is universal among music fans: everyone, from the most blissfully ignorant mainstream music consumer to the most pretentious lover of sub-niche genres, has a long list of music they’ll talk about or have playing while others are around, and they also have a selection that’s somewhat embarrassing and no one ever knows about. This is different from the idea that you like something catchy or poppy while knowing it isn’t necessarily quality. The idea is that you genuinely like and listen to a decent quantity of music in your life that you’d probably rather not have anyone know you’re familiar with.

For those that cross his path, Rigil, aka Rob Slade, is the newest artist that embodies the concept of “I like it but I hope no one knows I listen to this.” That’s not to say that Concertina Heart is going to be for everyone. The saccharine-sweet voice drifting gently over carefully laid down electronic soundscapes might repel a good number of less venturous listeners.

Music like this has been around forever. Since Queen’s debut album in 1973, regular folks have had a healthy respect for bands with genuine talent that lie outside traditional lines. My personal foray into this type of music occurred some years ago with my youthful, yet extremely skeptical love of Mercury Rev (have you listened to All Is Dream? DAMN). Fans of M83 are more than familiar with the concept - for years we’ve been listening to records like Run into Flowers in the loudness of our cars and the silence of our public lives. I humbly add Rigil into the great collective of bands such as these, the Starlight Mints of the world who woo us with their faintly feminine and captivating melodies.

Album opener “Beauty in Grey” perfectly illustrates my point. Crystal percussion and muddy synth combine as Slade begins his hour-long electronic serenade. After only a minute and a half, Slade’s high-pitched vocals combine with his admittedly able musical choreography to create what can be described as an effeminite version of The Notwist. The similarities between Rigil and The Notwist are concrete throughout the entire release, as a matter of fact, and fans of the latter might just warm to former with repeated listens. Halfway through the album “Colin Made Me” finally realizes the true potential of Rigil.

Having listened to his album several times I’m sorry to say that the only truly regrettable thing about Concertina Heart is Slade’s voice itself. The electronica-instrumentation is extremely solid and very listenable. It would be safe to say that without vocals the album would be even stronger as a purely post-electronic album. For example, “Wheatfields” is a brilliant and soaring wordless electronic four-minute track reminiscent of early M83 (and truly on the same par with that example). Sadly, though, Rigil is strongly lacking as a total performance package because of the sole fact that his voice will intimidate much of his would-be audience by how disarmingly sweet it is. However, there is no mistaking the genuine passion behind the music - it might repel some listeners but all will hear the emotional intensity of the release.

-Brendan Kraft