I thought that themes of love, heartbreak, uncertainty, and the search for happiness in music could only be conveyed through classical instruments. But “Mango“, an album by Denver-based producer tom feral, convinced me otherwise. It came out on October 11, one day after “Rotten“. Two releases one day apart is, I’d guess, risky: you can drown in your own material, repeat yourself, lose people’s attention. But “Rotten” works as a dark hallway from which “Mango” leads you out of the darkness – to a place where you can breathe and move. Eight tracks in which melodic house sits alongside heavy bass, jagged rhythms, and strings hidden inside electronic fabric.
It all begins with “Honeycrisp,” and the title immediately explains the sound. The percussion here is crisp and juicy, like an apple that has just been bitten into; the high frequencies ring out, and the bass is springy. I didn’t expect such liveliness from the opening track. Later, when you reach the middle of the album, you understand why it’s needed: from here, there is somewhere to fall. The fall begins with the second track. “T-Hole” sounds like walking down a long corridor: rumbling low frequencies, echo that returns with a delay. I like that Tom doesn’t rush to explain where the tunnel leads. You automatically keep walking and listen to the sound bouncing off the walls.
At first, the tracks seem monotonous – as if they lack bright melodies – but very quickly you begin to appreciate the rhythms and textures that quietly change every minute. This dynamism recalls the changes in a relationship: at some point, you notice that everything has long been different, but you can’t remember when it happened. Vocals appear on the third track. “Waiting Forever (For You)” is sung by XOXOSTARGIRL, also from Denver. The drums are cleverly made: they keep disrupting the usual count, which fits the theme exactly. You wait for the rhythm to fall into place, but it doesn’t. Against the backdrop of dragging drum patterns and soft, floating synthesizers, a story unfolds about waiting for change from someone you love, while deep down you understand how fragile that hope is. When the waiting ends, wreckage remains – and the fourth track is called exactly that: “Wreckage.” It’s a song about a breakup, which Tom sang and recorded all the vocals for himself. For a producer accustomed to expressing his feelings through synthesizers and other people’s voices, it’s a serious step. My criticism is an honest one: there is caution in his voice, and I wish he took fewer precautions. I think that in future releases he will fully reveal his vocal potential.
feral’s sound is varied – melodic house, dense electronics, stubborn rhythmic structures, dancefloor euphoria. Each track chooses its own shape for a specific feeling. Where waiting is needed, the music nervously shuffles through rhythms; where falling apart is needed, it gives the bass weight; where survival is needed, it suddenly opens up into a vast synthesizer landscape. One of the album’s heaviest moments is the track “Invisible Hole.” It runs for six minutes and speaks about suicidal thoughts, inner conflict, and the search for a hope that is not guaranteed. The track opens with strings, and Tom wrote and programmed all of those parts himself. A classical orchestra turns out to be inside the electronics, and then the electronics take over the conversation: enormous distorted drops arrive, and they sound unpleasant – which, in my view, is right. By the end, the music rises into euphoria, but the final seconds are unsettling, and I’m grateful for that. Comfort would have felt like a lie to me. The track doesn’t say whether its protagonist found hope, and I still don’t have an answer of my own.
That’s why I listened to the next track, “Finding the Meaning,” with particular attention. After a question like that, you need something that keeps moving forward. In the chorus, the track becomes danceable. Warm analog synthesizers, vocals, and a clear rhythmic pulse call you to move in time. The movement leads to the title track, “Mango.” Deep house, warm synthesizers, springy bass, and two euphoric drops in a row. After everything you’ve been through, this is exactly what you need: now you can exhale. It’s remarkable how little it takes to feel joy when it hasn’t been around for a long time. The record closes with “Smoji,” the album’s most playful track. Its glitchy digital textures sound like permission to move lightly. It was played at the end of Tom’s solo show in Denver celebrating the release, for which tickets sold out completely. I wasn’t there, but I can easily picture the moment when the room stops thinking and starts moving.
I began with the certainty that classical instruments speak best about a broken heart. “Mango” by tom feral proved me wrong: the strings, it turned out, were hidden inside the electronics. I still don’t have an answer to the question posed by “Invisible Hole.” But I do have “Smoji” – something you can dance to while carrying that question with you.
Published in partnership with SubmitHub
