There was a time producers could keep secrets. Samples and drum kits were the subject of intense speculation, while draconian copyright laws pushed cage diggers deep into obscure backlists. The equipment was expensive and quickly outdated. Studio time costs $200 per hour. But Kaytranada has arrived in the age of demystified production, with advanced engineering tools and infinite sound libraries just a click away. In developing his signature sound, he focused less on discrete elements—his peers could reproduce them anyway—than on their complex arrangement. In the 2016 discovery, 99.9%the rhythm, syncopation and layering techniques were Kaytranada's own, even when the instruments and melodies came from elsewhere.
By now, you know a Kaytranada beat when you hear one: The drums are front and center with a papery rap, strong but rarely abrasive. It's such a specific brand that it was in danger of reaching an artificial ceiling if every record was just a rehash of a theme. of 2023 Kaytraminé preempted any stagnation, combining Kaytranada's kinetic drum patterns with Aminė's chatty rhymes, keeping the temperature low while indulging in a shared edginess. On EternalKaytranada is based on the fusion of 99.9% and 2019 Babihighlighting over a dozen singers in a suite of airy, upbeat collaborations.
True to form, Eternal it's structured and spread out like a DJ set as finely chopped instruments criss-cross into the next. Jazzier numbers like “Video” and “Stepped On” have a mathematical precision reminiscent of Kaytranada's earlier work with Robert Glasper. And while the songs themselves don't have big dynamic tracks, the tracklist revolves around “Drip Sweat,” a show-stopping fireworks display with Channel Tres. The simplistic melody is reminiscent of early 90s claustrophobia, augmented by Kaytranada's stuttering beat. Channel Tres leans into his role as glowing emcee, directing the dance floor between mumbled lyrics.
Eternal it's a dance record, but can easily be adapted for house kicks. Busy drum patterns are offset by soft chords and mechanics — whispering snares land like the muffled hum of an air conditioner. Kaytranada's touch is also accentuated by a corps of R&B stars with soaring voices: Tinashe and Ravyn Lenae are flanked by their Canadian counterparts Rochelle Jordan and Charlotte Day Wilson, grounding electronica with more classic phrasing. On “Still,” Kaytranada's heavy kicks propel Wilson's wistful ballad. the rimshots scattered throughout “Hold On” contrast Dawn Richard's smooth vocals with sharp edges. The crossover harkens back to a time in the late '00s when hip-hop producers like Dela and DJ Jazzy Jeff were pumping out the last gasps of neo-soul, bathing their MPC drum rumbles with turntable cuts—a brief intermediate closing with more decisive moves, condensing techniques drawn from disparate, bygone eras.
And that's what makes a good DJ set — there's something for everyone. On Eternal, Afrobeat rhythms and funk licks are dressed up with R&B flair. Childish Gambino and PinkPantheress meet lively rhythms with aplomb. If anything, the parade of mixes and collaborations overshadows the disc's highlights. A winking and teasing Anderson. Paak delivers the album's most charismatic performance on “Do 2 Me.” Don Toliver echoes .Paak's vocal catalog on “Feel a Way,” but lacks sly intimacy, confusing the cool opening passage of the set.
An edgy Thundercat duet, “Wasted Words,” is limited to 90 seconds and buried on a bonus disc. During Kaytranada's hypnotic redirection, Thundercat soars in falsetto, berating his neighbors (“You gotta take that hat off/'Cause the whole 'fit is trash”) for innocuous transgressions. It's a bit out of place Eternal, yet the moody chords and harmonies are enticing in context, exposing a tiny hole in the block party record track. But if Eternal it feels lighter than its predecessors, it's no less assured, its purpose no less profound: to get you moving, even in quiet moments.
