Review
Humans
Noontide

The duo that make up Vancouver-based synth poppers Humans met by chance while engaged in artistic endeavours outside of music. Robbie Slade is a former forest fire fighter who met visual artist and film maker Peter Ricq when he was helping a friend put on an art show, and in 2009 they began creating the electronic sound of Humans. With three EPs in their back catalogue, Humans' long-awaited debut LP Noontide has an expectant audience. It was recorded with Canadian musician/producer Nik Kozub of Shout Out Out Out Out at the controls, and is filled with scuzzy, rippling synths.

Serving as a collision of tripped out, sludgy synths with an occasional nod to post-punk inspired 80s-era behemoths, like the beginning of "Faith" which has a sound indebted to New Order, before taking on a less abrasive tone,Noontide is a skillful combination of genres. The defining characteristic of Humans' work is their futuristic compositions that seem to inform their hedonistic sound, but are anchored by the inclusion of traditional vocals and guitar chugs, particularly on the indie-electronic fusion of "Gotta Go Home". These interjections fluidly weave their way in and out of the songs, like little tweaks being sewn into the album's sound.

A lot of the songs are unabashedly radio friendly, but every so often they burgeon into experimental pieces. "Watsui" is glossed in a Friendly Fires-evoking optimistic sheen, but stops just short of being cloyingly so, while single "Cold Soba" starts off in a dream-like haze before a devastatingly harmonic blast of synths ups the ante. The most promising track on Noontide is the tribal-like "Ennio", filled with chants of "you just keep me waiting" electrified by the dour percussion that permeates the seven minute opus. It's the kind of song that could become ubiquitous over the next few months, thanks to its instantly catchy hooks. Noontide has a prevailing pop spirit that sounds familiar enough to appeal to a mainstream audience, but also captures moments of deft experimentation that exclaim originality.

But all good things must come to an end, as evidenced by closer "At the Beach". It has vocal manipulations that can easily be compared to a Hulk-like deepness in tone, and this deep bass is surrounded by fuzzy synths. It sounds like you're in the vocal booth, even replete with tea slurps to make it feel like you're right there; fidgeting uncomfortably in your seat and trying to figure out what it is that you're actually hearing. The unpolished, experimental sound of "At the Beach" is nowhere near as accessible as the rest of the tracks on Noontide, and it sits uncomfortably alongside the overriding sheen of the rest of the album.