Yota - Room 412
Review by Karl Magi
Overall Album Impressions
Yota’s Room 412 is an emotionally affecting synthpop journey that erupts with superb ‘80s vibes as it unfolds. The album combines Yota’s first-rate vocal performances, songwriting that drives to the heart and a background of lusciously interwoven synth tones, timbres and textures. This is soulful and pleasing synthpop that draws me into it deeply.
At Room 412’s heart, there is Yota’s superb voice. There’s a charming retro sensibility in her vocals, but that is only a small part of their success. What really makes her voice so captivating is the way in which she translates words into emotion as she sings. There’s such a powerfully direct impact as her flexible voice explores the lyrics she’s written.
The lyrics for Room 412’s songs are another strong reason for the album’s quality. Yota has traveled through the jagged, complicated emotional terrain of love and loss throughout the songs. There’s a sense of mingled joy and melancholy in her words that presses home the intensity of deep affection and separation from it.
I also am pulled in by the ear-pleasing combination of well-chosen synth sounds that give off a retro feel without being a pastiche and production quality that allows those sounds to shine. I also enjoy the balance between vocals and music that allow each element to shine.
My Favourite Tracks Analyzed
“Don’t Go” starts as the sound of a heart monitor beeping pulses softly along with a heartbeat itself. Yota's’s voice asks “is that his heart rate?” And after the monitor flatlines, she asks, “Was that his heart rate?” Followed by “where is it?” Distant synth swirls with fragility into delicate, shimmering arpeggios as breath flows in and out.
Bass grows along with the other musical elements into a rapidly flickering motion as Yota says, “they said they’re gonna get you but this is too soon.” Now her voice pours out intense pain as it soars above the fitting arpeggios and fades out as she whispers “don’t go.”
Steadily pulsing drums drip with ‘80s sound as medium-high, silky smooth synth carries a mournful melody that unfurls gently to open “Don’t Tell Me Why.” Yota’s voice reaches deep inside her heart to bring forth the emotion in the lyrics as synth undulates in a aching glide.
Sharper-edged synth chords support the other musical elements. Huge drums and densely growling bass move below Yota’s strong voice rings out, the vocal melody hurting as gleaming synth notes wash and a towering flow shifts in the background.
Massive bass snarls as broadly cascading notes fall above Yota’s emotive vocals as she cries out. Electric guitar transforms the loss and need in the lyrics into a sobbing solo above a heavy low end heartbeat. The song ends with delicate singing and pulsing drums as widely flaring synth fades to quiet.
This tale’s teller speaks of a person with a heart of gold and “those hands that kept me out from the cold.” She says that she had a mind out of control and the other person thought that they’d save her and “never let go.” She thinks about what the other person told her at times adding that she guess they gave their all and had enough. She points out that “your silence says goodbye.”
“Dark Dandy” opens as glowing synth exhales before a slamming drumbeat and oscillating bass punches forward hard. Towering, brassy synth carries a melody exploding with action and intense energy above the hard-hitting drum and bass throb underneath it.
I feel acceleration and a leaping thrill as Yota’s husky voice carries a melody that expresses gripping need. The low end is unrelenting as broadly flowing, string-like synth undulates below the vocals which gain a little warmth as they leap up. Yota’s airy voice is strongly expressive as the trumpeting lead synth flares up with dynamic life and positive encouragement.
As the drums and bass press on, Yota’s vocals soar upward and flashing synth cascades, imbuing the song with bright life. Oscillating bass moves below, the gentle vocals slipping as metallic synth intertwines. Drums and bass drive in again as Yota's voice captures desire and hope. The song ends in echoing silence.
Our narrator can’t seem to stop thinking about the song’s subject. She says that she can’t reach the other person or “get inside” of their mind. She asks the “dark dandy” if things feel good like they used or as they “should do.” The narrator tells the other person that “I need you now” and adds “don’t you make me cry”. She tells him not to hurt her and pleads with him not to repeat the same actions again.
The storyteller asks the song’s subject if, after so many years, he ever wonders “how it would feel to make it right.” As the days keep on passing, their relationship fades from view but “I still hear you calling.” She concludes by saying that he is once again chasing her and will “chase me ’til the end.”
Visceral drums charge along with slowly oscillating, massive bass to begin “Holding On.” Yota’s passion filled vocals cry out in a melody that combines longing and hope. Her lush voice rises in yearning as hugely bursting drums throb along with heavy bass to create an entrancing rhythm.
A subtle synth light swirls in the distance, but the real standout in the song is Yota’s heartfelt performance. Gleaming synth waves wash in the distance before the propulsive drums and towering bass drive forward. The vocal melody exudes the aching loss and tenuous hope within the lyrics.
Flashing luminance slips in behind the chorus as it flows in breathy motion. Actively undulating bass and throbbing drums underpins the vocal performance as bass washes. After a drum flourish, elevated notes sparkle as an accent while Yota carries the song with her strong vocal abilities.
The storyteller is in limbo, hoping for the song’s subject to make up their mind because she’s “been holding on too long.” She feels there’s something she ought to do to move forward. Her memories are “vivid blue” as she wonders if their lost relationship is gone for good.
Our narrator asks what it actually means to say a relationship is over when feelings still exist “just like a cut that doesn’t heal.” She ponders on the fact that even as she is being told she’s free, she feels like “I’m failing constantly as the chains are holding me.”
She says that she feels the same, no matter how hard she tries. She’s like a “burning flame” as she wonders if they’ll break or hold together.
“I’ll do what it takes to save” is how the storyteller continues, adding that she wants to take that action right away. She says that she can’t be who the other person wants her to be because “I’ll be so much better” as they have fun together.
The song concludes as she says that she’s read all the signs, she’s feeling alive when she things of their relationship and “it tears me up inside when you’re not mine.”
“May” commences as Yota's voice echoes above twanging strings before truly colossal bass throbs along with giant retro drums. Yota's silky vocals contrast with the muscled power pouring from the drums and lush bass. The vocal melody effectively captures pained desire. After coruscating synth leaps in, the drums and bass launch an active beat while Yota’s voice flies out with exultant light.
Medium-high, blazing synth sings an encouraging melody, full of uplifting emotion to reinforce the expressive vocals. Flaring synth surrounds Yota’s heartfelt voice and guitar-like notes intertwine with calming light. Drums and bass drive on as the vocals cry out passionately.
Flickering, medium high synth captures me in warmth and affection. Piano glides past with a feather-light touch and percussion pulsates as bass rumbles subtly. Glimmering, sharp-edged synth rings out before chimes sparkle with fragile light. The chorus leaps upward with positivity and the track ends on massive bass and shiny synth.
The storyteller talks about her first meeting with the song's subject in May at which “you seemed so confused.” June has rolled around and she suspects that the other person will “ tell me your news and then run away.” At the moment, the song’s subject shouldn’t stay. Eventually there are “ forces (that will) rise, they will guide the path to see” and those forces will “talk about love the right way.” She adds that “one day you’ll know.”
Our narrator says that love “came out of the blue” in May. They both thought they were only friends. Some forces around them “know that you don’t want this” so they will show the song’s subject who will understand. However the strong forces of attraction as calling and "they will return and they will talk about love.” The brightly shining, mysterious light will take over to “unite you and I once again.”
Aggressively propulsive, lacerating bass and slamming drums launch “The Hunger.” Gossamer synth hovers reverently above the surging tide. Now Yota's voice hovers with wonderfully delicate expression as it carries a melody mingling sweetness and positive emotion above throbbing drums and bass.
Lustrous synth motes float in above the touching vocal performance. The chorus bursts with dynamic synth radiance as the heaving low end presses on. Yota’s vocals pour out unbridled aspiration for better times ahead as the drums thunder on. Intense brightness suffuses the elevated synth.
A pillowy flow fills the next segment in which muscled drums and bass fade. Yota’s tranquil voice unfurls airily through open space. Now a giant bass wave flows and the throbbing drumbeat is accented by blazing illumination. Shimmering light and ethereal air guides the song to an end.
Our storyteller speaks of a light within her that is gripping her. The light “cuts like a knife and makes me able to see.” Now she’s ready to fight and “burn through the fields of fire.” Defiantly she says there will be no more pain and “nothing will break me no more” as she takes control.
The narrator talks about long days and nights that “hurt like deep cuts” as she waits for the other person to call. She pleads for them not to hurt her again. In contrast, another side of her mind is showing her leadership so she can “reclaim and unite the one that I used to be.” Now she’s ready to fight and follow her “deep desire.”
"I won’t take it slow, I’m wide awake ready to go” is our storyteller’s next response as she talks about being ready to rise far above the struggle. She intends to reach upward as “hunger thrives inside.” She is feeling alive and stronger than what is keeping her down as she is “breaking this spell all over.”
As the song ends, she is lifting into flight and she will “shine above” like magic while she is “reaching higher than before inside."
“Let’s Not Sleep Tonight” starts off as breathy panpipe expands along with cut glass sparkles. Hugely powerful retro drums burst in and Yota’s vocals are playful and dreaming, punctuated by caressing synth tendrils.
Yota’s voice has a superb retropop vibe as it leaps out into a heartfelt chorus as giant drums and dense bass drive onward. A coruscating glow leaps as sunlit celebratory synth flares up and the low end presses on.
The song drifts into a gliding segment as panpipes exhale and the vocals rise with soothing light out above the driving drums. Rounded notes form an undulating pulse and lambency pours out before silence falls.
The narrator is tossing and turning, unable to sleep so she gets up to “watch the city lights at night.” She remembers all of the things the song’s subject said to her and why they said them. She asks the other person to “stop taking your time” because they know they are hers. The narrator wonders why they’re faking when she can “see the truth deep in your eyes that you still try to hide.”
Our storyteller says “let’s not sleep tonight” as she asks the other person to come over because she promises to make them feel so good. She wonders why the other person wants to "pull the brakes” because they could “do so much better.” The storyteller warns the song’s subject that “it’s now or never” so they need to stop taking their time. She concludes that the other person knows she’s right because “I see the truth deep in your eyes.” She finally asks why the song’s subject is still trying to hide.
Medium-high, softly shining synth revolves slowly above impressively pounding drums to kick off “Give Me A Chance.” Creaking synth moves in broadly undulating swathes as the drums leap into a rapidly driving rhythm below climbing synth walls as Yota deeply expressive voice calls out wordlessly.
The vocals stutter in bursts as delicate chimes shimmer while drums and bass slam forward. Yota can fill her voice with intense feeling and let it loose in an emotive torrent and that ability is on full display here. Chimes ring out with a clear glow as the low end hammers. Intertwining, sharp-edged synth cuts in as weighty motion shifts below. Glassy chimes cry out as the huge bass throbs.
Broadly slicing synth drops out as smoothly flowing chords expand and percussion ticks. Yota sings in her strong, touching voice and half-time drums form a steady heartbeat. Angular synth groans and chiming notes flicker while the vocals climb skyward above muscled low end motion before the song ends.
This tale’s teller realizes that “us not talking anymore has slowly made you go insane” as she addresses the song’s subject. She tells that person that she wanted them to understand that “all I needed was a change, just one change.” She wrote them a letter to say that “I’m just trying to make this better.”
Our storyteller says she can’t let go and asks for another chance because “it tears me up inside.” Their lack of communication has made her think everything was in vain. She adds that “since you turned the page” she has been unable to make the other person understand that “all I needed was a change.”
She begs the other person “don’t break it, don’t say it’s gone” and concludes by saying “can’t understand you, lately you’re behaving like a fool."
“Velvet” opens as glittering light rushes into wide open space as cutting synth reverberates with soft light. A surging bass tide rises with crushing power and retro drums punch hard with tom hits in the background. Yota’s voice trembles as it glides in a cosmically swirling melody above the bass tide and sparkling synth.
I feel drawn to the needy ache in Yota's singing as bass rumbles and shivering synth rises in an extended flow. Colossal drums and bass press on as solar radiance fills the bursting synth. Yota captures the wanting in the lyrics. Bright synth light flows above the endlessly driving drums and bass before ending.
Our narrator asks if the other person is there and if they notice her. She can hear them and “every breath is moving closer” so they can’t hide from her. She doesn’t want what’s happening but “it feeds me in the darkest, deepest corners of my mind.” The narrator says it ought to have remained a fantasy but “it crossed the line through reality.”
The storyteller knew that the situation would hit her hard. She tried to let go but each time they “close that door” she feels a call from deep inside that tells her she needs the other person. The darkness is growing as they “watch it slowly take control.” She’s tried to hide from it but she still misses the song’s subject and says “I don’t know how. don’t know why.”
“Are you here? Did you notice?” Is what she asks and then says that she doesn’t fear the other person. They don’t touch one another but “still it feels just so damn right.” She knows that the other person doesn’t need what’s happening but concludes that “it feeds me.” In the end they unite “in the darkest, deepest corners.”
Softly shining arpeggios revolve out above gruff bass to bring “Somebody Else” into being. Ethereal notes drift in a calming melody while arpeggios twirl in the distance. Yota’s vocals echo in a melody that is like gentle fingers caressing skin as giant drums and dense bass form an even heartbeat.
Sunlit arpeggios slowly revolve and the low end shapes the music. Yota’s voice skilfully captures loss and affection as it slips out and the arpeggios soften the percussion's harder edges. Light fills the twisting arpeggios and Yota's diaphanous voice fades into silence.
The storyteller tells the song’s subject that they don’t know it but her feelings have changed and adds that “’ll show how it can hurt to the core.” She tells the other person to cry and let another person “just call you baby.”
Our narrator thought that her craving for their love wouldn’t go away “but since tonight I realize you’d tear this heart in two.” She goes on to say that she thought she’d stay and they’d never be separated but “since tonight I realize I’ve only been a fool.”
Conclusion
Room 412 is synthpop with a deep, intense emotional core. Yota’s inimitable and expressive voice carries the music while the synth backdrop creates an excellent balance between nostalgia and aural pleasure. I can listen to this album over and over again.
