When last we left Brooklyn-based artist Alex Silva, they were releasing their latest EP with their collaborative art-pop group Personal Space. Things have changed since then with Silva taking the reins on a new project, Alejandro, which finds them embracing more of the indie-emo stylings that were interwoven with Personal Space’s softer color palette.
Alejandro recently released their debut EP which, like all great intro statements, serves as a promising foundation. On the Anaheim EP, Silva waxes autobiographical with times in their life that bring sharp focus to moments leading to more profound connections or realizations. Treatises on love, longing, nostalgia and more are all delivered with sometimes wry, sometimes bleeding heart-on-the-sleeve lyrics and gleaming instrumentations.
To get further into it, we had Silva break down Anaheim for us track by track below. Check it out and listen to Anaheim out now wherever you listen.
“Anaheim”
It was Spring 2010 and I was rapidly approaching my college graduation. There was this girl in my friend group that I was crushing on at the time, and I remember being in the dorm of our common friend as they were discussing spring break plans in Los Angeles. I somehow insinuated myself into their plan, claiming I too had plans to go out west in March, ostensibly for interviews for some vague positions doing “music” in LA. The song highlights some of the awkward results of horny, impulsive decisions of college-aged youth, such as: being suddenly and sweatily contorted against your crush in a roller coaster; drunk driving home after staying out way too late as you wait for the “right” opportunity to make a move (i.e. when the common friend finally goes to the bathroom at the bar); and somehow deciding to make another move while you’re eating a weird egg dish you prepared. This college crush ended up being #mywife.
“Rio”
A bit earlier, sometime in summer 2008, I went on a “father/son bonding trip” with my dad to Brazil and Argentina. The idea behind the trip was that my dad, an old dad compared to the average (he was 56 when we had me), was getting on in years and it seemed like a good time for us to lock in some extended time together before international travel would become too onerous for him. Unfortunately, my mental state, clouded by anxiety and homesickness, prevented me from enjoying myself and my dad’s company, something I still kind of regret now that he’s gone. Despite feeling off, there are still some things that stick in my head, like the dreamy, misty scene at the Iguazú waterfalls, or the nightmare of the inscrutable Buenos Aires dinner theater show where my dad loudly pressures me to flirt with the high schooler seated next to me. Anyway, miss you, Dad.
“Folly Tree”
I feel like everyone has at least one old friend who’s found success and recognition doing something interesting, that friend who you’re still kind of in touch with and see from time to time, but where the gulf between where you are and they are socially and professionally – between the past when you were close and the present where you struggle to find things in common – adds tension to your interactions. This song is a semi-fictionalized tale of a long weekend at such a friend’s trendy arboretum/orchard setup, where you’re both luxuriating in the fruits (literally and figuratively) of their labor and hyper-aware of the fact that you both lead very different lives now. What kind of bird is that? How did they learn how to do all this? How long can I stay before they want me to leave? These are the questions you ask yourself at Folly Tree Arboretum.
