Review: Steve Lacy’s “the Lo-Fis”

Steve Lacy rounded out 2020 by dropping his 25-minute, 15-track album “The Lo-Fis.” The 22-year old singer and guitarist has been in the spotlight since his production on Kendrick Lamar’s album DAMN back in 2017 and has built up his career as an R&B and bedroom pop influencer-icon. 

Filled with snippets of demos from his high school years, SoundCloud cuts, and instrumental snippets, this album feels more like an aural collage than a cohesive, narrative album. It represents more proof for his instrumental prowess, even if his overall artistic vision is still developing, as he acknowledges from this casual album-drop. It is structurally different compared to his 2019 Grammy-nominated album, “Apollo XIX.” The album feels unpolished but honest and raw, embodying a very DIY, rough-edged aesthetic that can be seen from the album cover, featuring blurry, warped selfies, and a pit bull dog. Many critics have described the tracks as all very similar, but this album captures the sort of repetitive, yet low-key melancholy that pervaded 2020. In staying home, often in isolation, Lacy’s new album reflects a fleeting sense of comfort –and discomfort– in waiting for something new to happen or come. 

His recognizable wavy riffs and laid-back, sometimes lethargic vocals pervade the album. The opening track, “Atomic Vomit”  at only a minute and a half, is a slow-moving piece full of airy vocals and a funky backtrack, with Lacy only coming in with some mellow rap near the end. The album picks up with “That’s No Fun,” where he discusses people who expect him to have stayed the same over time. “Cocky Girl” flaunts a Thundercat-like, funky, melodic bass line and Lacy sings the sticky lyrics “why are you so self-centered?” The album then seamlessly transitions into “Uuuu” where Lacy’s soulful falsettos fill the track with a sense of yearning. The album speeds up with “Jars of It” and “Bars. 16” which are both jazzy and lighthearted, giving off a Mac Demarco, dreamy vibe. “Infrunami,” a listener favorite,  slows down the chord progression from “Jars of It” and Lacy throws some romantic lyrics over the top of the smooth backtrack. “Daze” sounds almost Tyler, the Creator-esque with its eerie, chord progression with the piano at the beginning. On the last track, “The Song,” the production is completely reversed and then played in order, over which Lacy talks about smoking weed with a girl who’s never entertained marijuana before.

The entire album is full of longing and a feeling of being stuck, going through the motions waiting for the future to arrive. For me, it’s perfect lo-fi study music, but also an accurate snapshot of 2020, the nostalgia and dreamy eeriness of isolation, introspection, and disorientation. Listen to “The Lo-Fis” on Spotify and Apple Music.