Bassvictim - ?: EP Review

Within a transparent box, two blue-eyed Polish dolls gaze perpetually in opposing directions. This particularly twee image features on the latest album cover of self-proclaimed ‘basspunk’ duo Bassvictim’s ?, an aptly named project that effectively stands out amongst the ever-growing wave of underground electronic music. Possessing an unashamed quaintness, its breezy attitude feels like a wondrous oddity uncovered in a hidden marketplace. Just like the dolls that are frozen in time, ? is grounded in reminiscence. Whilst Bassvictim doesn’t forget the indulgent haphazardness heard within older party-fuelled projects Basspunk 1 and 2, ? chooses to take a scenic route down memory lane. Cruising over a whimsical road previously taken in recent album Forever (a nod to which can be found on the pattern of Ike Clateman’s doll’s hat), ? features trance-inducing melodies from vocalist Maria Manow who crafts a variety of intimate portraits centering love and loss.

Recorded in the same Norwegian studio as Forever in a hasty four days, ? is a direct confrontation of cultural ties and past trauma. Its eight tracks are meditative without mundaneity, letting Manow freely question into the abyss, sans overkill. Amongst this sonic shrine of precious memories, the ‘bass’ of Bassvictim is not lost. In fact, it can be particularly imposing when found on certain tracks. However, ? decides to tightly harness this power in particular moments instead of dominating the entire project with Bassvictim’s usual unrestrained brassiness. Admirably refusing to subject themselves to the muzzle of ‘indie sleaze’ that many reviewers aim to enforce on their craft, ? is a significant elevation of sound that proves Manow and Clateman can transcend current labels and trends that render oppressive for this duo. 

The first track, ‘Dirge’, prizes open the treasure chest which is ? and lives up to its reverberating namesake. It is a song where similar sounding lyrics murkily swirl together (“Nights are going / No tears coming / Nothing solving”). It becomes a palatable soup, albeit with subdued flavor, all piquancy saved for the next song ‘Sometimes I believe in God (Sometimes I believe in me)’. ‘Dirge’ situates itself in an alternate universe; presenting itself like a piece of folklore sung around a fire. ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, the third track, continues this sentiment. It paces onwards (“I keep going”) despite mentions of an impending yet unexplained ‘war’, which could potentially allude to ?’s airy interlude ‘The Dogs of War’. It’s a motivating song despite its melancholic undercurrent felt in lyrics such as “All the lessons that you hide/Now go hide me in your heart”, delivering a bittersweet package of personal ruminations. 

Manow hollers the title ‘Sometimes I believe in God (Sometimes I believe in Me)’ unabatedly in Polish over the track that possesses the same name. Her voice pendulates here: at times sounding unabashed, in other moments there’s an alluring quietness to her intonation that delicately wafts above the instrumental like smoke. The accompanying bass, however, is like a fire licking relentlessly at your feet and a resonant grounding force. It’s a spellbinding experience captured within three minutes and forty seconds, owning a satisfying balance of ethereality and grit, the track most likely to resonate the fastest among their fanbase. ‘Going Home’ has a similar effect, but its coolness lies in its caprices. It’s a pot on the precipice of boiling over at any moment; a song where verses occupy the same scratchy softness a beloved jumper possesses. Both volume and tone stretch outwards and recede within mere seconds throughout the song as the enthralling bass constantly rebels against its subjugation. Moments of pure catharsis are achieved when its production breaks out in rousing peaks. Self-assured lyrics on ‘Going Home’ are pointed with images of equal abundance and joy (“I’m gonna walk when I want, gonna walk when I have to/Money on my mind, money, everything is ever flowing”).

‘Babcia Jazdia’ is by far the most striking track on the project. Consisting of a swift single-take freestyle dedicated to Manow’s late grandmother, it is a touching tribute to an intricate relationship between the two. The song is bejewelled with pure love and features Manow at her most vulnerable yet. In many moments throughout ‘Babcia Jazdia’ she sounds on the precipice of tears. The track unravels itself over a protracted seven minute runtime: perspectives melt into each other, future generations are conceptualised, and comfort is reinstated. At one point, it gets quite meta: lyrics “Do you see me and my mom together / Dancing at my show?” places the song in the context of Bassvictim’s touring successes, and if ever performed, it would be a moving way to break a spiritual fourth wall.

For its compact twenty-six minute runtime, ? is a deep-seated project that successfully yanks on heartstrings whilst managing to avoid any pretentiousness or cringeworthy revelations. Morphing between moments of folk, indietronica and electroclash, Manow and Clateman’s latest work is impressively tender with a retrospective feel that cuts deeply.

Rating: 4/5