PREMIERE | Nylon Smile, 'Waiting for Oblivion'
The Nylon Smile of Nikolas Soelter; photographed by Eleanor Petry.
Here we are. Embarking upon the eleventh month of 2021, watching intently and cozily as the November auburn hued leaves descend upon sidewalks, streets, yards, fields and mountains. And with the closing of the year's fourth quarter, we are treated to the grand finale of some of the best arts the year has to offer. When it feels as if those elusive glimmers of hope and light are in short supply, the greatest artists of our era curate new collections of unmatched creativity beyond our wildest dreams. These monumental works connect to our senses of searching, senses of belonging and revel in the senses of being in the present.
Presenting the eagerly awaited Nylon Smile record Waiting for Oblivion, that leans into the apocalyptic unraveling that is really just another day in the 2020s with panache and pizazz. The solo project of artist/media impresario Nikolas Soelter builds upon the Angel of Doubt EP in a continued collaboration with the influential and wildly prolific Melina Duterte of Jay Som. Evident from the singles leading up to the album’s grand unveiling, Oblivion proves to be one of the most remarkable records of the year full of personal journeys, journal entries and a potent pop assembly that captivates in ways that feel both familiar and new.
The opening evocative chord strums of "Chemical Burn" carefully crafts the jagged feeling of rocky come downs executed with the vulnerability of a agoraphobic shut-in. Building up and down like the wild manic throes of a drying-out episode, "Only You Know" exalts the epistolary connection between two spirits with the density of a Jacques Brel song adapted for a slacker DIY epic. Nikolas keeps the rhythmic blaze of perpetual moment kicking forward in full gear with the spirit wrenching "Conduit" that plumes into an electric mushroom cloud so volatile and explosive that defies nearly anything and everything you have heard before or after. The pure genius of the mind whirling "We Don't Need a Reason" is an example of what happens when Soelter create the best song that Kevin Shields never committed to tape.
The haunts of hearsay are delivered like a privy pop carousel ride on "Rumor" right before sailing through the rip currents of life’s stormy seas on “Painless”. The lo-fi piano plunks on "Supreme Loneliness" spell out the pangs of solitude that rides the edges of existentialism, leading to the smooth and serene rocking roads of life on "I Don't Dream" that trades starry eyed mythologies for concrete weighted pylons anchored in reality. Personal growth and measurements of progress are acknowledged in the celestial high soaring track "I Must Be Changing", chronicling these rambunctious stages of nostalgia and reminiscent romanticism on the warm and bright chord coasting "Teenage Phase". Waiting for Oblivion shines as a remarkable high-water mark in the creative oeuvre of both Nikolas and Melina’s respective (and collaborative) works, an album that stands boldly in the cyclone center of existence and embraces the dizzying rotations of life experienced through the twisting funnel of a washing machine’s spin. Nylon Smile manifests the chaotic event of Oblivion through the therapeutic processes of reckoning with the past, present and the unanswered question of what the next chapters may hold.
Nylon Smile star Nikolas Soelter; photographed by Lauren Davis.
Nikolas Soelter of Nylon Smile offered some reflections on the making of Waiting for Oblivion:
First off, I’m so grateful to share my album in full on Sjimon’s gorgeous site, I love Week in Pop. It’s been a long time since I shared music that was so personal to me and I’m so happy to let these songs loose into the world today. Music has been one of the most grounding things in my life and led to many of my most important friendships and memories. This album feels like a retrospective of everything I’ve learned making music over the last decade plus and is one of the first times I didn’t critique every detail and wonder if it felt new enough, I just made what felt good.
In the reflective glance with Nylon Smile; photographed by Lauren Davis.
When I was making this record I was listening to an absurd amount of The Radio Dept., their songs feel so simple but have this magical quality to them. I was also obsessed with Sorry’s album 925. So much detail and the songs are really dark but still feel fun. I’m usually running around a lot, but when I was finishing the songs I was spending a bunch of time at home playing through the Last of Us series and reading David Berman’s book Actual Air, so I got into a pretty bleak headspace, which I think served the songs well and kind of inspired the dramatic album title. Interpol’s Turn on the Bright Lights is something I always end up coming back to when I’m working on new music, and I think the beginning of “Chemical Burn” is the same chords as “Obstacle 1”. Everything started on acoustic guitar, and Andy Shauf is another person who I was going to for inspiration. The Party is another really great, dark & magical album that feels so personal. “I Don’t Dream” was definitely directly inspired by his song “Alexander All Alone”, and weirdly ended up being sort of about someone named Alex.
Sunward glances with Nylon Smile; photographed by Lauren Davis.
Thanks to anyone who’s supported my music over the years, anyone reading this now, and especially anyone listening to the record. Huge thank you to Melina for making this with me, and all my friends who contributed music, art, time & energy for this collection, I love you all!
Nylon Smile’s album Waiting for Oblivion is available now via Citrus City and everywhere.
Nylon Smile — where nature and the metropolises meet; photographed by Eleanor Petry.