8.4/10

Overview

Nascent is an album sprawling with unadulterated creative passion. Released in 2022, at the tail-end of the COVID-19 pandemic, Panos writes on Bandcamp that “Nascent is about becoming.” This sentiment can be seen both in the title of the album, but moreover in the childlike wonder the album strives to evoke and replicate.

Looking at the album cover, one can observe three distinct elements: on the left, a bright, blooming picture of daisies on the coast; on the right, a dark and somber depiction of the same setting; and in the centre, an alien-like “thing” (honestly looking like something from the depths of the Mariana trench). All three of these are hard-cut together, creating a simultaneously beautiful, confusing, natural, and unnatural picture.

I mention the cover as its striking appearance is a fitting visual representation of how the album sounds: simultaneously natural and computer-generated, with lifelike movements and feelings communicated through synthetic garbled vocals and wistful piano keys that distorted by aggressive bass and oversaturated plucks. All of this coalesces into a beautiful, albeit daunting, musical journey. It is not an album with easily detachable singles, but rather a work that is meant to be experienced as a whole.

Q Windswept – 8/10

The album’s opener introduces many of its main themes in a gentle way, sputtering into life with a soft wind-like pad, water foley, electronic plucks, and melodic elements weaving in and out. The sounds seem to fight against each other, jostling for audio-based real estate. One can begin to hear the garbled vocals, not knowing whether it is your inability to understand, or the creator’s inability to communicate whatever the voice is saying. This is incomprehensibility serves as a central point to the album, conveying Panos’ struggles to understand his own thoughts and perceptions. It serves as a soaring and gentle introduction to the album as a whole.

Cycles – 8/10

The beginning of Cycles introduces the album’s darker themes, presenting as a juxtaposition to Q Windswept. Gone are the soft pads of the previous track, replaced by a distorted kick drum that surrounds itself with similarly brutal synths. The distortion gives way to temporary levity, with acoustic guitar lines plucking over an airy pad, and a gentle piano meandering across its own keys; yet throughout, there remain darker undertones of aggression and unease. The distorted kick drums become accentuated by vocal flourishes, losing some of their aggression, but creating a through-line of structure and a sense of rhythm in an otherwise unnavigable landscape. Throughout the track, there is a constant tug-of-war between moments of carefree lightness and oppressive darkness. It is this tension that begins to point towards the inner-conflict and frustration Panos is working to convey.

Sutter – 10/10

Leading on from Cycles, Sutter rushes out of darkness, driven by a choir of soft and extremely auto-tuned vocals, which become the basis for Nascent‘s sound and underscore much of the album. Sutter contains some of the only plainly unprocessed voices on the album, with one voice saying:

I’m just saying you’ve got to live in the moment

to which it receives the reply:

The moment?

I want – I want more than a moment.

I want a future.

These lines echo much of what Panos seems to want to express throughout the album. He writes on Bandcamp that the album represents “the desire to become a better human being, longing to actively participate in the world around you, striving to actualize your potential, and finding meaning in the process.” These brief moments of understandable words, backed up by Panos’ soaring cries, hint at tangible meaning breaking out of an otherwise noise-filled world. On occasion, the cacophony of vocals comes together to create words, or repeated parts of the original discussion between the two voices, as if the artist is harnessing the chaos itself to create meaning and distinction. Sutter feels simultaneously joyous and mournful, as if relishing the ability to create, but terrified by its lack of ultimate meaning.

36523_Red/Blue – 8/10

As the title of this song suggests, this track (which I will refer to as Red/Blue) centers around juxtaposition and opposites. In a much more heavy-handed way than Cycles, which fairly gently “cycled” between harmony and aggression, Red/Blue rapidly flicks between different sound palettes and sonic ideas. Especially in the opening minute, one would struggle to keep track of the sheer number of different sounds and ideas that Panos has managed to cram into such a short space of time. This is perfectly embodied from 0:55 to 1:30, where the previously swooning and soaring vocals are replaced with quick, but structured, robotic chops.

The song transitions from a disjointed, deliberately confused jumble of sounds to a galloping passage where all of the previously hinted elements rejoin to create a joyfully coherent and well-earned passage. Red/Blue pushes Panos’ kaleidoscopic sound in and out of alignment in a hugely satisfying and rewarding way, allowing the listener to revel in the harmony that emerges from what at first appears to be constant indecision and switching.

Reasonsnotto – 9/10

A much simpler song in comparison to what has come before, and whilst the sound is still a hugely technical stack of layered and harmonised gibberish (I imagine this might be what Imogen Heap would sound like if I didn’t understand English), the lack of other instrumentation gives the listener some respite from the onslaught. Having said that, this is not a stripped-back vocal ballad, as, especially towards 2:30, Panos makes sure to remind us who we are listening to, turning the effects dial up to 11.

On the contents of the song itself, the listener is confronted again with unintelligible robotic and rhythmic vocalisations that sound roughly Slavic in their pronunciation. Yet by 1:30, the vocals give way to Panos restating the earlier conversation, pleading for “more than a moment”, only to be swallowed again by the choir of garbled gibberish. The two sides, understandable and not, almost seem to fight against one another, becoming progressively more distorted, flanged, and chopped up, before Panos re-emerges in a crescendoing peak, both for the song and the album as a whole. The end of the song allows him to express the message that has been endlessly rearranged, distracted, and obfuscated by seemingly random noises in a cathartic call for purpose and attention.

Dream Extinction – 8/10

Dream Extinction reintroduces the more insidious elements hinted at in Cycles, opening with evil, distorted sounds, even underscored by screams. If you listen closely, you can hear the repeated message, pleading for a moment and a future, drowned out by the harsh, heavily processed basses. The start of the song at times verges on overindulgent, and really alters the mood of the album, although in a clearly deliberate fashion. Despite the darker tone, the introduction of Dream Extinction gives way to one of the larger moments on the album, crashing into the listener’s ears with walls or waves of sound. The “evil” sounds are still present, but Panos expertly blends them into a more melodic context, as if to exemplify his ability to recontextualise the negativity around and within him into a strength, and a powerful tool for rediscovery and re-imagination.

Equinox (Prelude) – 7/10

The track opens in an unassuming fashion, foley-heavy, with quizzical keys and confused vocal phrases, as if Panos has been washed up on the shore following the storm that was Dream Extinction. This Prelude feels like a reawakening, a remembering moment, with its final segment flicking through previously explored sounds and themes as if he is reliving past moments. The track serves as an introduction to the thematic reset for the direction of the album, which hitherto depicted the artist struggling with ideas of self-realisation and identity, constantly caught between indecision and noise.

Equinox – 9/10

Equinox (proper) is defined by its spoken word, depicting a confusing scene (and again, likely deliberately so) in which Panos discusses a bowl on a granite surface surrounded by sea foam. The delivery is disjointed and more observant than insightful at first. Yet it gives way to a determined cry for self-improvement:

For once, turn the right way

You flake, you human life

For once

This clarifies the earlier suggestion of reimagination, as Panos victoriously and self-referentially demands to make better decisions. It serves as the turning point of the album, as the artist embarks on a new path of understanding. The track itself is raised to the height of its narrative ambition by a huge wall of synths that push Panos’ emotional delivery to its necessary peak. There is a franticness at that peak, which fades away and is replaced by serenity, as the vocal chops and distorted synths are left behind a closing door.

Catch It – 7/10

Catch It reemerges from the silence left in the wake of the closing line of Equinox: “Thank the paper blinds for sparing you the shame of months and months gone by.” This ushers in a calm and serene new beginning. A piano explores the restraints of its key, accented by stuttery and inexplicably calm, but equally distorted, drums. The opening minute and a half explores the earlier ideas set out in the album in a toned-down fashion, signalling to the listener that the album is beginning to wrap itself up.

The introduction gives way to nylon-strung guitars and hummed vocal melodies, creating the soundscape of a far more natural world. Where previously nature was being subsumed by the electronic, here the two operate in harmony, as if the natural elements of the music had reclaimed the brutality that had once dominated. Folk-like wind, brass, and bells take the song to its conclusion, hinting at the realisation and discovery of a peaceful world. Catch It occupies a strange space on the album. It pitches itself almost as a calming finale, but this role is more accurately and impressively taken by Re:Turning. Whilst it is a pretty and interesting song, it is the most filler-like of the bunch, but by no means a bad track.

Re:Turning – 10/10

The finale of the album, Re:Turning, completes the job Catch It set out to achieve, bringing the album to a cathartic ending. The track completely forgoes the thumping, distorted percussive elements, and reintroduces the tuned-vocal-forward presentation. It is a beautiful melding, a harmonic blend that seems hyper-natural in its delivery. Re:Turning also features a short but sweet vocal passage reminiscent of modern J-Pop, replying to the angry demands of Equinox. Ultimately, it returns to many of the same themes as the rest of the album, and I risk overly repeating myself; however, it stands out as the album’s most beautiful moment, and a stunning end to a rollercoaster of a record.