Krug, Spencer: Twenty Twenty Twenty Twenty One LP
Since the start of 2019, Spencer Krug has posted a new song to his Patreon page every month. The songs on the aptly named Twenty Twenty Twenty Twenty One are selected from those posted throughout 2020 and 2021. They've been remixed and remastered into a single album, one laced with the vague sense of anxiety the world provided for so many of us during that time, but also made while Krug entered into the chaotic, blissful fog of parenthood, and so contains a necessary dose of optimism.
While no stranger to self-producing, 2020 and 2021 found Krug diving deeper than ever into the possibilities of his home setup, and therein refining a distinct blend of richly analog-acoustic and unabashedly artificial sounds. This self-aware and apparently self-pleasing juxtaposition is the texture making up a lot of the album, adorned with Krug's half-baked confessionalist poetry; ill-informed takes and recluse-revelations sung out from within his cave-ish backyard studio.
Living in rural Vancouver Island, loosely watching humankind unravel and gather itself over and over again from the safe, sleepy vantage point of a new father keeping himself and his family away from most others, locked in a beautiful, boring, perfect bubble, wherein every day, every month, is a kind of recurring dream, bright yet slightly troubled, a quiet walk down a too-familiar road, the cooing of the baby who doesn't yet know... Krug has unwittingly made a collection of sonic journal entries in Twenty Twenty Twenty Twenty One, each simultaneously guarded and celebratory, cynical and hopeful.