Approximately two seconds into Convivial, the familiar rattle of Sasu Ripatti’s abidingly palatable dissection of the house genre unexpectedly hesitates for a split second, skipping one miniscule fraction of a beat. Rarely, if ever, does anything unpremeditated worm its way into a piece of electronic music, but after listening to the record in its entirety, one cannot help but retroactively imagine this glitch to be an unintentional display of some dormant apprehension Ripatti may have tried suppressing throughout the production of this fourth release under his Luomo pseudonym. This observation ultimately proves to be the result of mere overanalyzing (the album’s title almost defiantly refers to the lively, enjoyable vibe that surrounded the artistic process), but given the overarching technique Ripatti gravitates toward, it isn’t entirely preposterous.
By and large, Convivial retains what rendered all three previous Luomo records so appetizing: driving, repetitive beats carrying interstitial bursts of pointillistic note patterns. But this approach is cosmetically bolstered with a lineup of underground collaborators adding their unique voices to each song, resulting in a drastically divergent foray into actual songwriting. And while past efforts have profited from drawn-out vocals (most prominently The Present Lover), nothing has approached the complexion of Convivial.
Whereas the human voice previously interacted tit-for-tat with Ripatti’s atmospheric equations, a number of songs comprising Convivial are emblazoned with a character that's rather atypical of any stylistic Luomo archetype. The singing of each guest is more upfront and protuberant than ever, thus resulting in an assemblage of meticulous, wholly veritable songs. This welcomed effect is most likely the upshot of a general slackening of the creative reins on Ripatti’s part, as he relinquished to his colleagues the duty of penning the album’s lyrics. To his eternal credit, repeated listens of Convivial reassure that he never once conveys any previously suggested misgivings in the form of overcompensation: to assert himself would be easily justifiable, but he chooses to continue doing what he does best while his lovely assistants juggle preeminence from song to song.
Thus, the album, despite its eventual tapering towards a final few indistinguishable tracks, persists with a handful of distinct moments: Sascha Ring (known better as Apparat) lends his achy baritone to “Love You All”; Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters burnishes a particularly peripatetic arrangement with his satiny glide on “If I Can’t”; and Cassy’s smoky introspect transforms Luomo’s arena synthesizers into something evocatively poignant in “Have You Ever.”
All said, perhaps the term “convivial” is indeed the most suitable title for this album. Granted, Luomo’s website describes Ripatti as “a shy man,” a comment that undoubtedly bears potential for further exaggeration in the mind of the listener given both the somewhat sequestered geographical location of his native Finland and his partiality for recording under a handful of aliases. But having resorted once again to the effervescent hub of Berlin for the recording of Convivial and enlisting the assistance of evidently competent guests, Ripatti has extended himself beyond what reticence he may typically exhibit: his generosity and, yes, conviviality have birthed another notch in an already remarkable oeuvre.
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