The hypnotic loops that introduce
Ballast serve a couple purposes. Besides being a nice "welcome to the otherworldly world of
Ballast" mood setter, the loops subtly lay the thin and fascinating electronica foundation of the album, one that's both barely there yet always there. Singer/songwriter
Damon Aaron has a tasteful electronica history -- having spent time with
Divine Styler,
Breakestra, and
DJ Nobody -- but he's an incredibly earthy and dreamy fellow who crosses a
Nick Drake-style wandering with
Keb Mo's warm approachability. It's safe to assume he's more a genuine songwriter than an exploratory knob twiddler, which makes
Ballast all the more fascinating when the loops and soundscapes creep in.
Aaron effortlessly delivers his deep and reflective lyrics accompanied by drums that lie just below the surface, background vocals that take two listens to catch, multiple layers of acoustic guitars, and the occasional naïve, quirky synth line. Brush off the quirk and
Bonnie Raitt could steal one or two of these warm "soul-folk" tunes, as could
Prince, or
Low for that matter. As producer,
Aaron's captured it all with a
Boards of Canada attitude, adding quaint, loopy interludes and simple-but-effective samples. It creates the perfect tonic for heartless glitch, but
Aaron is also keeping his eye on the whole affair, pacing the 11 tracks with a classic album flow. Strange rarely sounds this comfortable, and with songs that taste good today and ripen with time,
Ballast is a bewitching debut.