Kee Avil : Spine Review
by Shannon Smith
Montréal’s Kee Avil, known for her intricate blend of avant-pop, post-industrial sensibilities, and experimental folk, returns with her sophomore album, Spine. This record, a follow-up to her critically acclaimed debut, Crease, presents a fascinating evolution in her sonic landscape, offering listeners a raw, stripped-back experience that still pulses with her signature intensity. Where Crease was a labyrinthine journey through dense, gothic atmospheres, Spine focuses on the tension between simplicity and complexity, human frailty and machine precision.
Spine unfolds as an exercise in controlled minimalism, with each track limited to four distinct elements—guitar, electronics, and two additional instruments—creating a stark yet resonant palette. This pared-down approach allows the intricate details of Kee Avil’s sound design to shine through. The album’s production, handled by Kee Avil in collaboration with Zach Scholes, is meticulously crafted. The mixing is impeccable, with each sound carefully placed to maximize its emotional impact.
The album’s opening track, “Felt,” builds interest with its sparse, haunting guitar line that echoes through a cavern of electronic textures. Kee Avil’s whispered vocals slither through the mix, creating an atmosphere of eerie intimacy. The production here is akin to Björk’s more experimental work or the claustrophobic landscapes of Scott Walker’s Tilt, yet Kee Avil carves out her own niche with a familiar and unsettlingly unique sound.
Kee Avil’s vocal performance on Spine is mesmerizing. Her voice, often compared to the ASMR-like delivery of Billie Eilish, is a study in contrasts—at times hushed and conspiratorial, at others sharp and biting. Her vocals are front and center on tracks like “do this again,” conveying a sense of urgency and raw emotion that cuts through the dense production. The way she uses her voice as both an instrument and a narrative tool is particularly compelling on “Gelatin,” where her repeated refrain, “Repairing you / Destroying me,” rises in intensity with each iteration, mirroring the song’s escalating tension.
Despite the minimalist approach, Kee Avil’s vocal delivery is anything but simple. There’s a depth to her performance that suggests layers of meaning beneath the surface. The listener is drawn in, invited to decode the cryptic lyrics and find their own interpretation in the spaces between words. This is particularly evident in “Fading,” where she sings of “eating sweet clouds / tasting nothing,” a vivid image that speaks to the album’s recurring themes of alienation and introspection.
Spine is not a concept album in the traditional sense, but it is thematically cohesive, with recurring motifs of time, memory, and decay weaving through its ten tracks. Kee Avil explores the passage of time and the fragmentation of self, creating a sonic landscape that feels deeply personal and universally resonant. On “the iris dry,” she reflects on past selves and missed opportunities, while “showed you” delves into the destructive nature of introspection, with Kee Avil singing, “I want to blow it up just to see / what’s really inside staring back at me.”
This exploration of time and memory is mirrored in the album’s production. The sparse instrumentation and careful use of silence create a sense of space and isolation, as if the listener is wandering through a deserted landscape, piecing together fragments of a forgotten past. The use of strings on “Gelatin” and “showed you,” provided by Mark Molnar, adds a layer of melancholy, while the double bass on “remember me” and “Gelatin,” played by Raph Foisy, grounds the album’s more ethereal moments in a deep, resonant thrum.
While Spine is undoubtedly a compelling listen, its minimalism can, at times, feel restrictive. The deliberate limitation of elements in each track, while effective in creating a cohesive sound, also means that there is less room for the kind of sonic experimentation that made Crease such a thrilling listen. The album’s high points, such as the menacing pulse of “Gelatin,” are powerful, but there are moments where the sparse arrangements leave the listener wanting more—more variety, more boldness, more of the unexpected twists that made Kee Avil’s debut so captivating.
This is not to say that Spine is lacking in ambition; rather, it feels like an album in transition. Kee Avil is an artist who is clearly evolving, refining her sound, and honing in on what makes her music unique. Spine is a step forward in many ways, but it also suggests that Kee Avil is still searching for the perfect balance between restraint and release, between the intricacies of production and the raw power of songwriting.
Spine is a fascinating, if sometimes frustrating, listen. It’s an album that demands attention, rewarding those who are willing to delve into its intricacies with a richly textured experience. Kee Avil’s production skills are on full display here, and her ability to create an atmosphere that is both intimate and unsettling is unmatched. However, the album’s minimalism, while effective in creating a cohesive sound, also leaves the listener yearning for a bit more variety, a bit more of the boldness that defined her debut.
That said, Spine is a powerful statement from an artist who is still in the process of discovering her true voice. Kee Avil’s ability to evoke emotion through sound is undeniable, and Spine offers a tantalizing glimpse of what she is capable of. As she continues to refine her craft, it will be exciting to see where Kee Avil goes next. For now, Spine is a worthy addition to her catalog, a haunting, atmospheric journey that envelopes the mind long after the final sounds fade.
Kee Avil: Website
Kee Avil
Spine
May 03, 2024
Constellation