SERENGETI & POLYPHONIC
‘Terradactyl’
Anticon
(2009)

Two Summers ago Chicagoans Dave Cohn and Will Freyman—alias Serengeti & Polyphonic—released ‘Don’t Give Up,' their debut album as a duo. When the album dropped I summed it up as Hip-Hop's emotronic answer to ‘Give Up,’ Ben Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello's breakout laptop confessional released under their The Postal Service moniker. By year's end ‘Don’t Give Up' had earned a place as my favorite album of 2007. It shared that position with Athens, Georgia Indie-Pop veterans of Montreal's self-deconstructing opus ‘Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?,’ an album where oM frontman Kevin Barnes exhibited a penchant for a similar brand of lyrical wit, electroacoustic whimsy and cathartic soul-baring that drove ‘Don’t Give Up' to the top of my “best of” list.

Barnes described ‘Hissing Fauna...’ as a “concept album” formulated around his own personal transformation into a fictional character. And while Serengeti is himself known for his ability to craft cohesive concept albums where he inhabits the skins of his characters in an almost frighteningly authentic manner, ‘Don’t Give Up' wasn't one. It felt like one, due in large part to ‘Geti’s therapeutically biographical songwriting and an especially fluid song sequencing arrangement that made Polyphonic's space-symphony beats flow like an extended suite. But if ‘Don’t Give Up' was a concept-based character piece it was one where the character Serengeti was playing was none other than his own alter-ego Dave Cohn. It was this personally revelatory nature and sonic singularity that lent ‘Don’t Give Up' much of its strength.

Cohn and Freyman's sophomore effort—and debut for the anticon. label—‘Terradactyl’ isn't fleshed out in quite the same way. This time ‘Geti is a bit more scattershot topically and thematically. Like any good writer who draws on what he knows he can’t help but be anecdotal or self-referential in places. But ‘Terradactyl’ isn't all about putting him under the microscope. It isn't concerned with following the antics of any of his colorful characters from start to finish either. In that respect it recalls his earlier solo releases, where his eclectic interests and detailed character studies were corralled by a focus on straightforward rhyming. It also bears a likeness to his 2008 collaboration with Tony Trimm and Renee-Louise Carafice as Yoome, which eschewed linear storytelling in favor of song-length viginettes portraying individual life-scenes threaded together by common themes and concepts.

It's those concepts and themes—crime, drugs, addiction, depression, disaffection, disenfranchisement, dysfunction, identity dismorphia, media irresponsibility, socio-political injustice and socio-economic disparity—that not only link ‘Terradactyl’ to Yoome's ‘Boredom of Me—not to mention a great deal of Serengeti’s catalog in general—but the individual songs on the album to each other. I mean, an album that boasts a song about homelessness—the beautiful “Dawn Under the Bridge” featuring Renee-Louise Carafice—and a song about a European husband disturbed by his wife's steroid abuse—“Steroids” featuring doseone as the wife—has gotta have something keeping it together, right? And there is...A unique insight into the human condition which betrays Dave Cohn as the Hip-Hop generation's heir to subversive composers like Leonard Cohen and Randy Newman.

Serengeti & Polyphonic “Dawn Under the Bridge” feat. Renee-Louise Carafice


Well, that and Polyphonic's work behind the boards of course! Even if ‘Terradactyl’ isn't as seamless as ‘Don’t Give Up,' his otherworldly blend of baroque instrumentalism and futuristic programming—a Techno-Folk amalgam that gives the psychedelic Rave sound of Animal Collective's ‘Merriweather Post Pavillion’ a run for its glow-sticks—works like sonic epoxy to make it sound like it is. Some of his strongest contributions include the aforementioned “Dawn Under the Bridge,” “Playing in Subway Stations,” a concoction of jangly guitars and Bruce Haack-ian synths, the Wong Kar-wai soundtrack-ish “My Negativity,” “Call the Law,” which pits crunchy robot-stomp beats and laser-gun synths against angelic harps, “My Patriotism,” whose mandolin, accordion and rubber-ball beats sounds like “Lately I Haven't Been Feeling Well Pt. 2,” and the Moroder-plays-Atari-plays-chanson-sounding “Calliope.”

Serengeti & Polyphonic “Call the Law”


When it dropped I didn't know ‘Don’t Give Up' would become my favorite album of the year. I knew it was dope, and that it was a massive achievement from one of the few folks working in the Hip-Hop milieu whom I respect as an artist. I knew it was emotionally affecting, and that it had a heart and soul that most modern music, especially Hip-Hop, usually lacks. But I didn't know how it would creep into my consciousness as time went by, how I'd relate to it so wholly, or how superior it would sound—lyrically, vocally and musically—compared to the majority of records released during 2007. By the same token I don't know if ‘Terradactyl’ will for sure be my absolute favorite LP of 2009 by the time the New Year rolls around. All I know is that it's another outstanding entry in the already astounding catalog of an artist who is undoubtedly one of my favorites of the modern era.

Serengeti & Polyphonic @ MySpace