Real People serves as a chant on behalf of chillwave luminary Small Black to implore their growing audience – fans of the airy, cotton-candy lightness they perfected on their last studio album, Limits of Desire – to accept them as real, honest human-beings. Unfortunately for Small Black they never quite convince us enough to bequeath them with the title they yearn for.
The irony in their request is best represented in Josh Kolenik’s lofty vocals and the way they never seem to be tied down to a genuine feeling or emotion. As the collection of songs not quite substantial enough for a full-length album progresses, it exhibits just how inadequate it is beyond a sheer lack of numbers. In describing the subject matter for Real People, Kolenik explains how the songs on their unfussed EP are inspired by the way we look back at the past with rose-tinged Wayfayers or how secrets and regrets become a natural part of being in the music business. As poignant as these themes might be in their personal attitudes, they get lost in Kolenik’s woozy and dreamy trills, even when paired with guest Frankie Rose’s warm coos.
The best song on Real People is “Lines of Latitude,” which pulls inspiration from a thrift store find made by the band’s bassist/guitarist Juan Pieczanski. Even without having heard the source material it is difficult to imagine the best parts of this track weren’t summoned by the lounge singer’s original work.
Small Black closes out Real People with a cover of the late 80’s song “The Downtown Lights” by Glasgow electronic band The Blue Nile. It is easy to assume Small Black believes they have given it a twist all their own, but instead it wraps up the EP in a confirmation of the feeling that’s been gnawing away at us the entire length of the 5-song extended play. The differences in emotion and fervor between Paul Buchanon and Kolenik are starkly apparent. In the original, when Buchanon describes just how much feeling and emotion the lights in the city evoke in him, it’s easy to envision and more importantly, believe. In Kolenik’s version, it is as if he has never seen the glimmer of a bulb with his own eyes, but instead has been told reused stories of what it might look like. He is barely convincing us he’s actually enjoyed the synthpop cult hit before someone told him he should, let alone that he could have ever possibly been there, moved by the radiant glow of a gaslight beacon. How do I know you feel it?
Real People perpetuates the feeling that Small Black is really just a beautiful boy you make out with in the back of a car at the drive-in on a Sunday evening. Your head is drunk, your chest fills with sanguine breathe, the sky overhead is not quite blue, but an ethereal periwinkle haze quilted with fluffy and opaque clouds. This boy, he’s nice to kiss, but he lacks the depth of emotion that could ever keep you intrigued for longer than the length of the summer’s blockbuster. Yes, he will give you butterflies but trust me when I say they will leave you feeling more empty than full.
Rating: 2.5/5