by Will Floyd (@Wilf_Lloyd)
The term “deep work” was coined by computer science professor Cal Newport, in his 2016 book Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World. The titular phrase quickly caught on in the instagram reel productivity porn of time management influencers, proliferating anywhere the rhetoric of stoic discipline reared its head. It refers to an approach to work with minimal distractions, logical goal-setting, reduced busy work, and hours logged to keep yourself honest. On the flip side a “deep break” describes a period of equally disciplined and concerted disengagement. Scrolling through instagram or passively checking email does not count; meals and bird-watching does.
Whether Operator Music Band’s latest EP, Deep Break is the result of or the soundtrack to their own deep break is open to interpretation. It’s been almost three years (a little longer than Newport’s prescribed 10-15 minutes) since the Brooklyn electronic trio released their second LP, Duo Duo—the strongest expression of the group’s krautrock, art-pop and occasionally post-punk sensibilities thus far. Deep Break is three songs long, which according to the band’s Twitter were taken from an aborted full-length album that they ‘hated’. In the fall of 2021 the band tweeted that they were heading in a totally new musical direction, and that from thereon they would not be playing any old material live. It’s unclear whether Deep Break is the first iteration of that metamorphosis, or if their would-be third LP was the foreshadowed new direction, and Deep Break was just a couple tracks to hold listeners over in the meantime. Based on another ominous tweet about a potential lawsuit with their last label, it’s safe to say the “return to normal” for Operator Music Band has been similar to America’s: not what they expected, slower than was promised, and with no clear blueprint to move forward.
On Deep Break the group re-join forces with Jonathan Schenke of Brooklyn’s Studio Windows, and also seem to have enlisted the support of former member Anna Fox Rochinski, who has since embarked on her own solo career. The end product is probably the band’s least kraut-inspired record, and not to a fault. We begin on a thoroughly funky note on “Is This Reason?” with a sauntering bass line amid a flurry of arpeggiated synths that bring the disco stylings of U.S Girls and Arcade Fire’s Reflektor era quickly to mind. Dara Hirsch offers colorful vocals which tend to delight compared to the two leads’ usual talk-singing delivery. The song really gains momentum towards the middle on the irresistible bass breakdown that either incidentally or purposefully channels Yellow Magic Orchestra to great effect. The sort of call-and-response refrain “people want the touch, give the people touch” is a nice hook, and leads into a tasteful sax solo where most of the song’s running instrumental riffs come together for a satisfying conclusion.
“Finnik” is an effective instrumental interlude of sorts, that diversifies the album’s sonic palette thus far. Another momentous bass line leads into some wordless, mantra-like vocalization which recurs under the song’s surface throughout, as space-age synths reverberate in every direction. The abrasive, tinny electronic drums at the midway elevate the vibe from urgent to ominous—it’s easy to picture yourself as a criminal in the year 3000, speeding through a neon-lit tunnel on your hoverbike, the police hot on your trail. The psychedelic-ish riff to play us out doesn’t lead the song anywhere particularly new or interesting though, despite the vibe being strong enough to carry on for a few more minutes. The proverbial high-speed chase ends too soon, the tension abruptly cut as our protagonist shelters conveniently in a back alley.
The album’s final song “Invertigo” sees Jared Hiller taking the mic for the first time, talk-singing and sing-singing with Byrne-esque delivery, lyrics that seem to have something to do with AI and consciousness. “No fun! Just engineering!” stands out as an album highlight. Hopefully it’s not how the band feels about the making of Deep Break. Like the other two songs, “Invertigo” mostly stands on the strength of its bass line, and it’s a good thing the band is apparently incapable of writing a bad one. The synths are more mischievous sounding here, and in the song’s third leg Hiller and Hirsch join their voices in some sumptuous dah-dah-dah-duhs, amid a fun staccato guitar solo.
Operator Music Band doesn't present anything glaringly new or different on Deep Break compared to their previous discography, but the group still functions on an elevated baseline of style and sophistication. They remain in complete control of their sound—the only question is where to go from here. It’s 2022, and we’re entitled to all the deep breaks our wellbeing demands. More would be nice, but it’s no one’s right, and we can only hope. There’s no aspect of this EP that was too much, went too far, or overwhelmed, and that’s why everything probably could have been taken a step further. Instrumental breakdowns, solos, and choruses could have been drawn out, turned up, and emphasized more confidently. The sonic world of Operator Music Band has been fully fleshed out and tastefully adorned for some time. The place looks great—we just wanna stay a little while longer.