MUSIC

Moving at a glacial pace, Cigarettes After Sex’s eponymous debut album is subdued but deeply evocative in its lust and lingering sense of infatuation

Cigarettes After Sex’s debut album is subdued but deeply evocative in its lust and lingering sense of infatuation.

CIGARETTES AFTER SEX/ CIGARETTES AFTER SEX

Fresh off their debut gig in Bangkok last month, Brooklyn-based quartet Cigarettes After Sex have now dropped their long-awaited self-titled debut album, some five years after their breakout EP I. Formed in Texas by singer Greg Gonzalez in 2008, the band went largely undetected until a few years later when Nothing’s Gonna Hurt YouBaby blew up on YouTube.

The video, uploaded not by the band but a random YouTube user, is simply an audio showing nothing more than the EP cover artwork. It has, to date, garnered over 50 million views. Set to a languid bassline and wistful synths, the song maintains a slow burn akin to a lit cigarette. Gonzalez’s vocals, muted and understated, hover blissfully between post-coital haze and melancholia.

The slowcore-leaning sonic aesthetic continues to define Cigarettes After Sex’s subsequent singles including their debut LP. Opener K starts off with suspended keys before the drums and guitars join in, resulting in something close to a sequel to Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. “Kristen, come right back/I’ve been waiting for you/To slip back in bed when you light the candle,” Gonzalez muses, his voice coming across like a soothing salve for the soul.

Each Time You Fall In Love arrives with the kind of spectral, minimal bass one might associate with a handful of The xx’s tracks. “Each time you fall in love/It’s clearly not enough/You sleep all day and drive out in LA,” he croons in a hushed tone. “She took you for a ride in summer, baby/ Lost all your money to her/All I want to know is if you love her/How come you never give in?”

Apocalypse begins in much the same manner as its predecessors, but when the chorus hits, it quickly establishes itself as one of the album’s clear standouts. “You leapt from crumbling bridges watching cityscapes turn to dust/Filming helicopters crashing in the ocean from way above,” he begins almost in a whisper. “Got the music in you baby, tell me why…You’ve been locked in here forever and you just can’t say goodbye,” goes the gorgeous hook that begs for some serious humming-along.

The jazzy Flash is perhaps the quietest number of the set while Sweet and Opera House are reminiscent of Mazzy Star. Truly and John Wayne ebb and flow with late-night yearning. Closer Young & Dumb concludes the album with the lyrics salacious enough to make a grown man/woman blush.

Throughout the record, Greg Gonzalez’s delicate voice lends itself extremely well to the gently rippling melodies supplied by his bandmates Phillip Tubbs, Randy Miller and Jacob Tomsky. Their debut outing stays faithful to the crepuscular palette they first introduced us with Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. Call it noir-pop or ambient- pop, this is a strong and unflinching collection of well-crafted songs dedicated to modern- day eroticism and intimacy.