#cryptacize

1/14/26.

I do love Chris Cohen, so when music surfaces of his work with bands outside of his solo work my ears perk up. I'm guessing I'd heard of Cryptacize earlier, but Cohen recently put up the digital files of the last live show by the band (dated 12/31/2009) on his Bandcamp. This made me go back and listen to "Dig That Treasure", which was originally released on Asthmatic Kitty Records in 2008.

With Cryptacize (Oakland, California) Cohen's voice and style is unmistakable when heard. Otherwise, the sweet and tender vocals of Nedelle Torrisi (who also played with Cohen in The Curtains) take center stage. Her vocals remind me of Lake Ruth (Allison Brice), Alsace Lorraine (Claire Brice) or Tracey Thorn. She's also sang with Ariel Pink and Sufjan Stevens.

Cryptacize - Blue Tears

I’ve been trying to follow the moves of the former members of Cryptacize, Bay Area’s brilliantly original art-poppers, since the band’s soundless dissolution a few years ago. Now it seems like I should’ve paid equal attention to each one of them. Besides his involvement with the Finches and Bouquet, Aaron Olson, bassist in the last incarnation of the band, put out a bunch of solo material last summer as The Rests and L.A. Takedown; I will be writing more about the latter (which is now playing shows as a full live band) for the Owl Mag in the next couple of days. The Rests’ “Warmly Warning”, however, deserves a separate mention.

What started out as a Cryptacize demo (Olson shares the credits with the band’s core songwriting duo, Nedelle Torissi and Chris Cohen), has morphed into one of the most compelling pieces of restless, irregular pop I’ve ever heard.  The short number illustrates perfectly how formally ambitious songsmanship can be the most infectious, and ultimately the most rewarding. Tracing the unique chord progression of this gem brings joy upon the first listen, but when we finally get used to its numerous curves and knots, it hits with radio-appropriate catchiness. There is a slight Brazilian jazz vibe to the song, too, which makes me think of Kenny Gilmore’s fantastic “It Stays” from a few years back. And as much as the melodies betray Cryptacize’s pop formula, Olson’s version ends up sounding much denser—almost claustrophobic—and darker than any of that band’s recorded output; in a way, it is the perfect transposition of Ariel Pink’s early ultra-condensed hook-frenzies onto a less-then-crappy recording setup. 

Cryptacize - Mythomania