Never has relationship anxiety sounded sexier than it does on Acopia’s self-titled sophomore album. Over the span of 10 tracks, the Naarm-based trio beat themselves up over feelings lost and gained, become the toxic one, and resolve that things are just a bit weird right now (how good is being in your twenties). They also create a great track to deploy when interacting with that one guy who has read every google result for “top habits of highly productive people” at your summer internship (‘This Conversation is Getting Boring’, personal gripe). It is a record that is both distinctly of our time and acutely nostalgic.

Acopia consists of Morgan Wright, Lachlan McGheehan (Lil Uzu) and Kate Durman (Purient). The three are doing bits individually in the so-called Australian electronic music scene, but their synergy is quite special. Chances, the band’s debut record, illustrated their potential for creating gentle, considered, totally yummy electro and dream pop, but the sequel builds on the original in all directions. Acopia are more confident to explore varied sonic territory, borrowing from trip-hop (so-called), post-punk and ambient. Notes of bleepy 90s ambient electro perforate the synth lines of many an Acopia track (‘Take You For Granted’, ‘This Conversation’) in a particularly earworm-y way. Outside of electronic influences, the chord changes of ‘Holding On’ are dreampop bread and butter, reminiscent of Beach House and Cocteau Twins, and album centrepiece ‘Eyes Shut’ is thundering and grungy, recalling Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop.

The record sets off with the smouldering ‘We Evolve’ where wubby synths emerge out of muffled recorded conversations. It is dissociative and hazy – a good sense of what to expect from the album. ‘Be Enough’ taps into that sultry yet deeply anxious mood hinted at earlier. “Will I ever be enough?”, Durman ponders over woozy guitar riffs, a thrumming bassline and crisp, programmed drums: crippling self-doubt but make it sexy. Musically, ‘Disengage’, ‘Holding On’ and ‘Eyes Shut’ tread on similar territory. Acopia never stray too far from their overcast palette of resonant kicks and claps, drawn out echoes and post-punk instrumentation. Effective, if ever-so-slightly monotonous.

‘What I’ve Been Looking For’ is refreshing in this context, cutting through the fog with skittish, cicada-esque bass that builds into driving percussion. The lyrics are hypnotic in their repetition, hinting at a fruitless search for assurance where uncertainty prevails. ‘Intentions’ lacks the strength of earlier tracks, nevertheless, I enjoy the overtly romantic instrumentation on display. ‘Take You For Granted’ feels like a step in a different direction; a new realisation, perhaps. The 90s influence takes hold immediately and the atmosphere turns slyly playful. Durman sings with a smirk and a shrug – “I take you for granted, it’s just what I do” – a blasé confession of toxicity.

There is something similarly disaffected about the electro-leaning ‘This Conversation’. It sounds aquatic, with zappy synths that spatter like water droplets and a dubbed-out, danceable feel. Competing melodies talk over one another, vying for attention, whilst Durman sounds completely indifferent to the whole thing. ‘Work it Out’, however, finds Acopia at their most vulnerable, opening up to reflection and warmth as they close the album. At the heart of the song lies Durman’s confession, “I can’t work it out right now”, but it doesn’t sound like giving up, more like an invitation for help. The track is an answer to the angst that suffuses the album, a resolve that uncertainty is okay. It is gorgeously cathartic; the exhale after a long, tightly held breath.

I was surprised to learn that Acopia is a medical term used for patients who struggle to cope with the daily habits of living. I’m sure many of us would align with this diagnosis at certain times and it is one that clearly plagues the Acopiaverse. The band create soundscapes that can be frosty, hostile and alienating, but where warmth and intimacy manage to seep through the cracks. Acopia, the album, is deeply sensitive to how hard it can be to cope with unanswered questions, missed opportunities and miscommunications. Here’s to figuring things out together.

Until the next,

75

Isobel Barry

15 January 2024