Yves Jarvis – ‘All Cylinders’ album review: a small but filling serving of genre fusion
THE SKINNY: You wouldn’t think that Canada-born songwriter and producer Yves Jarvis only listened to one artist throughout the creation of his fifth album, All Cylinders. There’s so much happening throughout its 11 songs that you’d think he’d devoured the contents of an entire record shop, paying meticulous attention to detail on everything he managed to listen to.
More surprising still is the admission that he was exclusively listening to Frank Sinatra for a year, because if there’s anything that this album doesn’t sound like, it’s the New Jersey crooner. However, Jarvis says that what he desired to hear in his own music that Sinatra always had is “clarity”, further explaining this to mean “the way the songs exist without him, as real things.”
If that was the end goal behind the sound of All Cylinders, then it has to be said that his strict diet of ‘Old Blue Eyes’ paid off with stunning results. However, many genres it straddles become irrelevant because the ways in which he warps them and fuses them together create something entirely unique. Yes, there are times when things can seem a little cluttered, and he’s dealt with too many ideas to be consumed at once, but Jarvis’ ambition shown on this outing is exceptional.
All of his previous albums have demonstrated a sense of singularity and a desire to explore a bounty of ideas, and All Cylinders is no different in that regard. However, what’s becoming stronger in his work is the production, which feels a lot more refined and has a greater variety of textures. Rather than sticking to acoustic guitars throughout most of the album as he did on The Zug, Jarvis unleashes an electric fury on a number of tracks, unlike anything he’s displayed on record in the past.
If there’s one thing that’s a crying shame about All Cylinders, it’s that it’s over and done within 26 minutes. If there’s a plus side to that, it means you can almost squeeze in five listens in a couple of hours, and believe me, you’ll want to do that.
For fans of: Rifling through big record collections, days getting longer, going in for another helping.
A concluding comment from me, an overstimulated journalist: It’s a lot to take in on one listen, and it’s still a lot to take in on five listens, but you ought to be taking it in nonetheless.
All Cylinders track by track:
Release Date: February 28th | Producer: Yves Jarvis | Label: In Real Life
‘With A Grain’: With a Brazilian jazz influence in the introduction, the song morphs into an almost yacht-rock vibe with some neo-soul vocals. Every little bit of Jarvis’ fibre goes into this opening song. It’s a flex more than anything, but if you’re going to introduce people to the sound of your album, you might as well get it all out of the way early in style [4.5/5]
‘Gold Filigree’: A sensual and soulful track that doesn’t throw anywhere near as many ideas at the listener as the opener, this offering is more comparable to the work of Prince or D’Angelo – especially when the distorted guitars begin to kick in. [4/5]
‘One Gripe’: This is another track that has all the smoothness of a certified hit, pushing forward with its soul influences. There are flashes of weirdness that demonstrate that Jarvis is only going to do things his own way throughout the album, but it’s not so jarring that it stops feeling inviting. [4/5]
‘Decision Tree’: This is as close as we’re likely to get to conventional pop, and while there’s nothing wrong with the track, it’s also not quite as indicative of the raw talents that Jarvis possesses as a songwriter, performer and producer as the other songs heard so far. [3.5/5]
‘I’ve Been Mean’: There’s a bluesiness to this cut, but of course, don’t expect that to run the entire way through its short runtime. The mixing of styles hasn’t reached a point where it feels laboured, and given how delicately Jarvis handles the switches, it’s not likely to feel laboured, either. [4/5]
‘I’m Your Boy’: A pleasant track that bridges the gap between Frank Ocean’s vocal soulfulness and a handful of rock and roll influences, which was a pretty big chasm to be closing. The slightly more skittish nature of this song does make it harder to fall in love with it instantly, but nothing is egregious. [3.5/5]
‘Warp And Woof’: Crikey, this one’s a journey. Despite barely lasting over a minute, my fingers can barely type the words quick enough to cope with the amount of intricate stylistic changes. We start off folky, move into ‘90s alt-rock, and then finally onto minimalist electro-pop. Are you following? Good. [4/5]
‘All Cylinders’: The title track is much more straightforward, but keeping things simple and streamlined to a breezy soul track allows Jarvis to show that his manic adaptability isn’t just a sign of focus lacking. As much as he’s clearly a master of many things, doing one thing expertly on this occasion serves him incredibly well. [4.5/5]
‘The Knife In Me’: A short burst of funk at the start, and a little bit of psychedelic folk at the end. They’re two very distinct parts, but the transition from A to B is barely noticed, and you’re not left thinking that you’ve listened to two completely different songs. [4/5]
‘Patina’: It’s two chords and then out. In fact, it’s one chord played twice. Why this isn’t just tacked onto the final song as its intro rather than a separate track is odd, but hey, the album’s been good fun. [n/a]
‘Luck’s Last Luster’: Another track that barely scrapes beyond a minute long but manages to merge gospel, bluegrass and traditional folk together. The song doesn’t quite feel finished unfortunately and ends all too abruptly, but a peculiar album wouldn’t be complete without a peculiar ending to cap things off. [4/5]
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