For The Fink, his second release under his Lee Paradise moniker, Dan Lee (Hooded Fang, Phèdre), had a vision — create a soundscape for the apocalypse. Potentially inspired by the pandemic's sudden dystopia, the resulting record was gritty, dark cyborg funk, filled with arbitrary noise that sometimes tipped into hopelessness.
Whether purposely or not, Lee Paradise & Co. seems like the exact antithesis of The Fink — let's call it the hopeful sister record, stuffed with bright synthtronica and kaleidoscopic video game music. One could say it's still cyborg funk, but with a more distcintly human flair — Bionic funk?
Made by a wild concoction of collaborations including members of Scott Hardware, Jane Inc. and members of New Chance, Ducks Ltd., No Frills, Mother Tongues — basically a list of all the new(ish) Toronto acts you wanna tell your mom about — Lee Paradise & Co. has Lee Paradise stepping in the producer chair and diving into one of his most experimental projects yet. It's not experimental in terms of genre-bending or big left-field swings, but it's an experimental exercise nonetheless in the sense that every song — down to its lyrics, instrumentals and structure— was a real-deal collaboration, a deconstruction of the Lee Paradise we've come to know.
Lee left every aspect of the songwriting process open for peer participation. Sometimes, this process really works — the Scott Hardware-featuring "Cement" sounds like a beautiful B side gem from Devendra Banhart's Mala. "Leaving" is another highlight, a crowd meditation led by a nihilistic guru from the future. The lyrics were penned by Daniel Woodhead, aka Moon King, another multi-talented Toronto alumnis.
While Paradise is leaving his mark as an adept sonic sculptor on most of Lee Paradise & Co., there's no saving the aimless electronica on "CS2X," which sounds like someone demoing their first run of synthesizers and slapping on some hi-hat. It's not bad, but nowhere near on par with the rest of the album.
Still, Lee Paradise & Co. sounds like it could accompany a compendium of different indie video games with floating 2D shapes, more psychedelic imagery, and no real plot line, perfect for completely zoning out and turning off your brain from reality.
(Telephone Explosion)Whether purposely or not, Lee Paradise & Co. seems like the exact antithesis of The Fink — let's call it the hopeful sister record, stuffed with bright synthtronica and kaleidoscopic video game music. One could say it's still cyborg funk, but with a more distcintly human flair — Bionic funk?
Made by a wild concoction of collaborations including members of Scott Hardware, Jane Inc. and members of New Chance, Ducks Ltd., No Frills, Mother Tongues — basically a list of all the new(ish) Toronto acts you wanna tell your mom about — Lee Paradise & Co. has Lee Paradise stepping in the producer chair and diving into one of his most experimental projects yet. It's not experimental in terms of genre-bending or big left-field swings, but it's an experimental exercise nonetheless in the sense that every song — down to its lyrics, instrumentals and structure— was a real-deal collaboration, a deconstruction of the Lee Paradise we've come to know.
Lee left every aspect of the songwriting process open for peer participation. Sometimes, this process really works — the Scott Hardware-featuring "Cement" sounds like a beautiful B side gem from Devendra Banhart's Mala. "Leaving" is another highlight, a crowd meditation led by a nihilistic guru from the future. The lyrics were penned by Daniel Woodhead, aka Moon King, another multi-talented Toronto alumnis.
While Paradise is leaving his mark as an adept sonic sculptor on most of Lee Paradise & Co., there's no saving the aimless electronica on "CS2X," which sounds like someone demoing their first run of synthesizers and slapping on some hi-hat. It's not bad, but nowhere near on par with the rest of the album.
Still, Lee Paradise & Co. sounds like it could accompany a compendium of different indie video games with floating 2D shapes, more psychedelic imagery, and no real plot line, perfect for completely zoning out and turning off your brain from reality.