Bonobo Takes You Tripping with ‘Migration’
Since 2000’s Terrapin EP, Bonobo has been adding to the ever-changing Electronic music scene for over a decade with a relaxed instrumental tone that has laid the groundwork for artists such as Flying Lotus, Emancipator, and Tycho to approach the genre with similar yet distinct tactics to penetrate the now-commercial EDM scene.
The newly released Migration not only keeps to Bonobo’s consistent musical workflow, it expands the already “chilled-out” tone of his music and elevates it to a more ethereal level, with each track working in harmony with the others to provide a 61-minute trip through the astral plane rather than just a compilation of well-produced tunes.
This is ever evident on the Jon Hopkins collab title track “Migration,” filled with a repertory synth tone and a piano melody suitable for a Brian Eno record. The percussion and pitched vocal samples push their way to the audible front, providing a colorful experience that matches the tonal consistency of the album’s cover art: beautiful yet devastating, leaving you already wanting more.
It all comes back down to nylon string arpeggios and the soothing sound of Rhye on “Break Apart,” a track with less build but no lack of sonic bliss. The lyrical swoon of the R&B duo is the highlight on this track, but without the background horns and Bonobo signature backbeat, the words would fade into obscurity. Instead, they soar just as high as ever.
“Outlier” is a heavy break in the album, reminiscent of Bonobo’s past work on Dial ‘M’ for Monkey. A trip-hop experience that adds some diversity in the album’s overall sound, it’s got rhythm and backbone that contains a festival-thumping vibe to it. It’s impossible not to bob around as the track builds. There’s a more synth-heavy focus on this which works next to the more spaced-out predecessors on the album, as a reminder to dance in between the dreaming soundscapes.
The opening chants on “Grains” pull out Bonobo’s ever-growing use of global sounds, the vocal samplings taking precedent while the electronic drum beats provide the atmosphere. It’s a perfect follow-up from “Outlier,” both tonally and in terms of its progression (most of the song stays with the chants as the most audible section).
As it leads into “Second Sun,” those atmospheric elements not only carry over but also expanded into a gratifying simplicity. This post-rock influencer climbs with xylophonic grace and holds on with electric guitar melodies, the strings entering within a cinematic threshold that makes this track one of the more complex yet subtle set pieces on the album. It’s the shortest song in length yet the most powerful in its collective instrumentation, worthy of a live symphony piece.
From the orchestral to the more mainstream, it moves into “Surface,” running out of the gate with infectious rhythm and crooning courtesy of Nicole Miglis of Hundred Waters. Miglis’ ghostly staccato tells a story of heartbreak and reminiscence that ties with the synth pad-clad instrumentals. In terms of pop access, “Surface” reaches that pinnacle on the album, due to both its chill indie pop soundscape and the added touch of Miglis’ vocal styling.
“Bambro Koyo Ganda” adds to the album’s world-influenced themes, bringing in Innov Gnawa for a hypnotic Moroccan hook while Bonobo’s signature rhythm builds behind it. Much like “Grains” but more straightforward in many ways, it keeps to Bonobo’s simplistic production without losing any steam on the record as a whole.
On “Kerala”, the approach to the production style changes from the preceding tracks. Rather than have original vocals, the track samples Brandy’s “Baby,” enabling the human voice as part of the rhythmic structure rather than as a guide through the percussive jungle of the song. This stand-out feature shines as another potential club thumper, at the very least a highlight in the potential live sets to come.
“Ontario” follows the tough act that is “Kerala,” though that does not diminish its place on the album; it becomes an interlude of sorts, moving from the dance beats back into the orchestrated, ambient themes that have been present throughout Migration since the title track.
That’s when “No Reason” sneaks up on you with isolationism and remorse to a house beat that sweeps in and gets you moving. Add in Nick Murphy (more commonly referred to as Chet Faker) with soothing vocal stylings, and you have the third act in a trifecta of Bonobo-styled Pop tunes (see “Break Apart” and “Surface”). Given this is the second-longest track at 7:28, it goes to show that Bonobo knows how to take you on a trip and keep you dancing the whole way through.
“7th Sevens” is old school meets new, merging Bonobo’s early ’00s tone with his more recent live-instrumental work via Black Sands. It plays a similar role as “Ontario” and “Outlier” before it, both pulling away from the pop sensibilities while staying firm in Bonobo’s rooted style, only this time around the roots are more ‘spring fresh’ than before. “7th Sevens” is a prime opportunity to set up Migration for its end-trip, turning the seatbelt signs on before landing.
The outro of Migration finds its way through “Figures,” another vocal sample reliant force that mellows out, bringing a tonal quality similar to the title track. The more interesting likeness to it is in the reverse of the progression; “Figures” doesn’t build but instead diminuendos out to a reverb heavy soundscape, painting an infinite void to the album’s conclusion. The vocals fade, the orchestra swells, and suddenly it all rings out into silence.
The trip ends as it began: dreamy, as if Bonobo was painting the sky with sound. The entirety of Migration is never too fast or too slow to be a let down or an overhyped machine. The instrumental structures, the vocal stylings, every aspect of the sound of this record is rooted in escapism, an album that was built to remind its audience what dreaming feels like, so we never forget to let the mind wander once in a while in the hopes that, at any given point in time, the journey becomes the destination. Simply stated: there’s a reason it’s called Migration.