Greencarpetedstairs - Greencarpetedstairs

By: Brandon Backhaus

It was the late 80s. I had burnt orange carpeted stairs. It was shaggy. Along with the pattered mirror squares and faux bricks along the living room wall, its ruddy hue lives like a time capsule in my mind. In the vein of Fake Four label mates K-The-I???, and Delby L, Greencarpetedstairs has offered us a weird, melancholy pop soundtrack to a bygone era.

I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean, it’s not like I said it’s something Del would recommend.

I mean it as Greencarpetedstairs sounds one part avant-garde rap record, one part Chromatics-esque electro pop, and one part John Hughes soundtrack. I hear it in the background as Ally Sheedy rides shotgun with Ryan Gosling, “Hey, girl… this record is kinda OK, I guess.” I disagree you beautiful mute bastard! This record is tits!

Greencarpetedstairs is at times up-tempo, at times spatial, and even hints at a little boom bap occasionally. The spacious, minimal drum sequencing gives the whole album a dreamlike quality. Effected vocals yearn a la Polića only less soaring, then go and drop a beat box. Pianos tinkle, as laser guns bubblegum. It is the layering that makes the album unique. The various elements of each song coming and going effortlessly creating a sweeping sonic landscape. It’s almost like I can see Greencarpetedstairs out on 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica with his Korg, a mic, and his sampler tripping the shit out of everybody.

Greencarpetedstairs has delivered an album that’s perfect for making out. Not necessarily because of anything he says, but this kinda new wave-influenced shit is always good for some saliva swappage. This album is up that alley (yes code) fashoze! Add this record to your romancical mix bro! Its sweeping synths are tailor-made for sustained, dreamy, eye contact, heavy breaths, and hands down the pants. Playing this really loud with the door closed is akin to hanging a “Don’t fucking knock because I’m tryin’ to put it in” sign on your door. Your roommates’ll get it. Trust me.

Not sure if it was a conscious decision or not, but one thing I would have loved to have here is one or two good features. A lot of albums today are so watered down with pointless guest appearances, I can’t remember a time when I thought an album needed more. But being a Fake Four release, I can’t help but to wonder what a stable of performers like Astronautalis, Bleubird, or Ceschi could have contributed to a track or two. We can’t even get a Noah23 verse? You know who would have killed a Greencarpetedstairs feature? Open Mike Eagle.

This record has established yet another installment of Fake Four’s coup of the weird, poppy, melodic, hip hop-esque genre. Greencarpetedstairs’ production lends itself so perfectly to that style, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already produced tracks for the label’s other artists. If he hasn’t, he definitely should. In the end, Greencarpetedstairs didn’t do anything revolutionary, but I don’t think that’s what he was attempting. What he did do was offer us a perfect introduction to a talented artist making quality music.