Vanisher, Horizon, Scraper

Ben is such a fantastic artist. It is truly so stunning to go back and compare his youtube diss track days to now. I make this point not to disparage his youtube diss tracks, mind you, but rather to highlight the massive evolution artistically that his music has undergone throughout his career. With each release, Quadeca solidifies himself ever more firmly as a generational talent. There is a certain quality to his music that perfectly captures the listlessness wrapped up in the experience of being in this world today (especially in your 20s). It is a sense of being tied to no singular or clear emotional pole: it is exciting, exasperating, soul-searching, all at once.

I am writing this review on the plane, flying home to LA from visiting family in Boston. One of the most fleeting, but meaningful memories I experienced on this trip was on Christmas Eve, when I stepped out of my Grandma’s house into her backyard to get some air. It was bitterly cold. I stood outside and stared out at the horizon: the faint sound of cars in the distance, the momentary beauty of the light snowfall enveloping me. I was listening to “Godsend,” and I was utterly, completely lost in the brief blip of momentary peace in which I found myself that moment.

Inside, I left behind the familiar chaos of familial gathering. Out int he distance, I watched the familiar chaos of the highway. However, in my direct surroundings, it was just me, the biting wind, and Ben. It felt as if I was listening to an old friend recount how he’s been doing, how he’s been navigating the world, and not being able to help singing in doing so. And in that instant, I felt such a genuine, emotional connection to his music. It felt as if he was baring his soul in an effort to touch mine, and I was just struck by the beauty of the track, and simultaneously the power of music itself (something I marvel at quite often).

There is something intangibly magical about this medium that can allow for the artist to imbue so much of themself in their art, but leave enough ambiguity that not only is there an ever present question of their exact intent, but also of what intent I, the listener, receive. It is an inherently vulnerable quality to music, as the artist starts the dialogue and puts it out there for someone like me to listen, and respond – potentially in a way completely contradictorily to the original intent. But that is the beauty of the thing: the point is not a clear, informational message (a la a documentary, say), but to instill reaction itself, to evoke some kind of emotional response. And Ben accomplishes this again and again over the entire hour+ of this record. It is absolutely stunning.

Favorite Song: THUNDRRR