Styrofoam - the lost album

A Closer Listen

One of fall’s most enjoyable electronic albums is a time traveler, beamed to us from 2000-2001.  While listening, fans of a certain age are thrown back to the halcyon days at the turn of the century, before 9-11, before Brexit, before COVID, before a whole lot of things went in the wrong direction.  Back then, artists such as The Notwist, The Postal Service, Opiate and Styrofoam were in their glory, releasing music under the banner of indietronica, filled with glitch, melody and a soupçon of melancholy.  But Arne Van Petegem (Styrofoam) had a different direction in mind for album number three – that is, until a discussion with the label shelved the music of the lost album, most of which has been unheard until today, so many of our readers weren’t even born when it was composed!

But there’s nothing wrong with this revelation.  There’s a more interest in retro electronica now than there was in 2000 for the sounds of 1975 ~ so much that many current artists deliberately try to sound as if they were born in a previous generation.  And as Styrofoam was ahead of his time, little of this album sounds dated, save for the use of stuttered hip-hop samples on “I Will Try If You Need It” and “In the Streets,” a technique that was relatively new back then, taking the place of the DJ-scratched sample.  Even so, the technique is sparingly used and endearing.  “I Will Try If You Need It” is even one of the early singles, one of the few tracks with obvious vocals, though the best part of the song is the electronic pattern introduced at the two-minute mark, bursting to the front of the speakers.  The percussion is hard, but the keys are sweet, one of Styrofoam’s hallmarks.

The other early single is even better.  “I Built Your House” is also the album opener, loping along at a confident 64 BPM, slightly swifter than AWOLNATION’s “Sail.”  This dark track sets the stage with sparse lyrics: “I built your house … you tear it down.”  The theme could be that of a dysfunctional relationship, which would make the melancholic song waiting at the end of the album, “To Simply Lie Here and Breathe,” a form of closure.  But when Styrofoam utters the words, “when things go bad,” one thinks of the entire 21st century, unfolding after this was recorded.

But to these ears, the finest track is “Zero Plus One Equals Nothing More,” buried deep in the set, a (mostly) instrumental gem packed with complex percussion and simple chimes.  There’s absolutely nothing in this track to indicate its year of origin; one can imagine it appearing, for example, on a modern Four Tet or Bonobo album.  Listening to this piece, one wonders anew, how did this album remain buried for so long?  The album’s longest piece, “Bad Natured,” offers similar percussive and melodic pleasures, cementing the nagging feeling that perhaps this should have been Styrofoam’s third album, although he did go on to have a career that continues to blossom.  What was lost is now found, and we’re all the better for it.  (Richard Allen)