“Blister Sunrise,” the opener and lead single of M83’s 10th studio album, begins with a breathy, spacious buildup that rivals the best that these climax junkies have ever constructed. After 70 seconds, it abruptly cuts to silence. The next few moments of gently swirling synths made me check my screen to see if I’d accidentally skipped ahead to the next track. Then the song explodes—a wordless, throat-shredding scream erupting to ratchet up the maximalism. It’s been a long time since the word “abrasive” could accurately describe something in an M83 song. 2016’s Junk was often hair-raisingly garish in its reanimation of late 20th century cultural detritus, but you’d have to go back to the early 2000s to find moments in M83 songs that contain this type of outright chaos.
I Wrote You a Letter actively courts comparison to one album in particular from that period: 2003’s Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts was M83’s final album as a mostly instrumental studio project before founder and sole full-time member Anthony Gonzalez added lyrics, live drums, and touring members to his arsenal. This is their least lyric-driven album since then, not counting the two Digital Shades releases, which were presented as compilations of solo ambient compositions. It also features Gonzalez’s first collaborations with producer, composer, and multi-instrumentalist Benoit de Villeneuve since Dead Cities. Tying a bow on it all, I Wrote You A Letter’s “Feeding Time” even goes as far as sampling the iconic computerized vocals that open Dead Cities.
No score yet, be the first to add.
Oddly enough, all of those suggestions of a return to bombast and dynamism prove to be red herrings. I Wrote You a Letter is one of M83’s lesser projects, having more in common with Gonzalez’s film score work and the two Digital Shades volumes than it does with any of the band’s proper studio albums. After “Blister Sunrise” peaks, we don’t get anything else that could be deemed a “beat” until “Feeding Time,” the penultimate song. In the press release, Gonzalez says that he “wanted something less calculated, more spontaneous”—which checks out— before calling it “more punk”—which doesn’t. I Wrote You a Letter is defined by a wispy aimlessness that reads, generously, as “first thought, best thought” but often just seems half-baked. Every engaging idea—the saxophone skronk of “Siren Behold… Beasts,” the Sigur Rós-y orchestration of “Aged,” the heartfelt piano balladry of “Heart Motion Foto”—disappears as soon as it makes an impression.
The album sounds very nice. Gonzalez’s access to gear and mastery of fidelity have both grown exponentially since the Dead Cities days, when it was unclear if tinny drums and blown-out synths were aesthetic choices or budgetary limitations. Directly following “Blister Sunrise” is “Opera,” a song whose title, nearly seven-minute runtime, and array of expensive-sounding analog synths all suggest another epic composition. Every turn it takes is just as mystifying as the sudden silence that heightens the climax of “Blister Sunrise,” but none of them pay off. There aren’t dead ends so much as paths that fade out, introduce a new instrument or melody, build up, then dissolve again. The tempos are predominantly glacial, but the constant speed-running between peaks and valleys never allows for the breathing room necessary to achieve emotional impact. Taken as a whole, I Wrote You a Letter sounds like a series of prospective sketches that Gonzalez submitted to score a sci-fi film, intended for a director to highlight specific portions to be expanded into full-bodied themes.
