Roy Blair Celebrates Five Years of ‘Graffiti’
‘Graffiti: A Mix By Roy Blair’ cover art.
Roy Blair: a genius of his time, constantly light years ahead of the curve, and a master of the soundboard. Following the 2017 release of the iconic Cat Heaven, a 13-track record that defined the musical class, Blair unleashed “GRAFFITI” on streaming platforms, a micro-EP with leading singles “I DON’T KNOW ABOUT HIM,” “FANTAZIA,” and “YOU WEREN’T ENOUGH”. Powerful in nature, those releases lead the pack.
Now, five years after the initial release and Blair’s long break from the music scene, he has gifted his most devoted fans with Graffiti: A Mix By Roy Blair: a comprehensive, immersive listening experience that allows the artist and listener alike to fully explore the emotional terrain first mapped on those earlier tracks. It's a bold, uncompromising work that cements Blair's status as one of the most vital voices in contemporary music.
It starts with “Interview (Friends),” a sub-minute introspective conversation with his friends where the underlying possibilities of the future and the polarizing dichotomy of the past are discussed, at one point saying, “I think about that when I pass by your old apartment and how you were always like 'I loved it there,' but I know you had like shitty-ass times, like the worst times there.” These unguarded moments of reflection are nothing new for the producer, who has long grappled with a sense of displacement and unease throughout his discography. There's a palpable weight to these words, where he’s unafraid to confront the messy realities of his existence, and it's a fitting introduction to the journey of Graffiti.
The album then launches into the hypnotic "I Don't Know About Him (Mixed)," a track that finds Blair fully embracing the glitchy, hyper-charged sound that has become his signature. "And next time I'll get more high / I'mma be who the fuck I want," he defiantly proclaims, the words decked out in determination where you can’t quite tell if he is trying to convince himself or the audience. The song is catharsis, where he grapples with the weight of his inner turmoil through vivid imagery of driving, explosives, and bridges on fire.
"Above, Not Below" is another sonic manifestation of the human condition and the eternal struggle of being seen. It's a more relaxed, introspective offering amidst the album's more frenetic moments, yet no less potent. It deals with the paralysis of an ever-changing world, torn between his desire to remain rooted and stoic and the pull to reinvent himself in the face of someone else's perception. It's a universal experience, the push and pull of self-acceptance and the need for external validation, and Blair captures it with an unyielding touch.
The back half of the album picks up with the kaleidoscopic "Fantazia," and in 3 minutes of pure chaos, Blair encapsulates a dizzying range of emotions and a striking duality. The introduction splits itself in half, starting with “You did something to me / You can see right through me,” dripped with the vulnerability of being perceived, before pivoting to a headstrong declaration, “You make me feel so competitive / All of my friends are my relatives.” These conflicting sentiments lie at the heart of "Fantazia," as Blair navigates the blissful highs and crushing lows of the human experience. The repetition of the refrain "Yeah, I notice that your world's falling down / But my world's falling down / And I just don't know how I really help" becomes a mantra of sorts, a desperate plea for connection and understanding in the face of overwhelming isolation. The ending mirrors an Alice-In-Wonderland-style tumble of the song's production, yet he remains steadfast in his conviction, offering the blissful affirmation that “you can be yourself, flaws and all.”
Blair compares his mind to a daunting darkroom in “Lightleak” as the album draws to a conclusion, offering one final glimpse into his psyche. Over a high-pitched soundscape, he makes the compelling metaphor and begs the question of letting others into the darkroom, asking, "If I didn't have time for it yesterday, why'd you think tomorrow?” With emotions threatening to spill out, he reconfirms that he keeps his mind like a twisted sanctuary of sorts, a private insulated space defined by its absence of light. A place where the mind is free to wander without the scrutinizing demands of visibility and others are not welcome any time soon.
Even as the world around him continues to move at a breakneck pace, Blair remains charting his own course through the chaos. The Graffiti mix is a bold, uncompromising statement - the sound of an artist refusing to be pigeonholed or contained, embracing the full scope of his artistry to craft an emotionally resonant masterpiece. Graffiti: A Mix By Roy Blair is the sound of a generational talent coming into his own, on his own terms, even if it is five years later.
