There’s undoubtedly much trepidation in a name change, and for Adelaide-based producer Tim Koch, the recording moniker now comes under the guise of a numerical set rather than his given names. Self-analysis exists elsewhere about the meaning of these numbers: in the context of Vanitas, though, it feels as if these two have been pushed together on the basis of their beauty. Both rounded numbers, they come to represent the feel of this mini-album at just five tracks – always subtle, but not quiet enough to warrant being left behind, earning rather than asking for their right to be replayed.
It’s a marked evolution for Koch – Faena being the previous long player – with a much more, dare it be said, accessible use of form and song structure. The move to Ghostly may also signal this shift in direction too. “Blue Little” picks up (roughly) from where “Blue and Grey” left off from the 2006 album, though a little harsher and more compact. As to what is heard, there’s as much acoustic instrumentation as actual synthetic production at play. There is less space to what Koch is doing, at least on the opening song, with each idea being pushed up to the periphery, from the relentless beat to the sweet-ish melody that gets left by the wayside at times.
Yet it’s the sweetness that permeates the rest of Vanitas, with a subtlety that often makes it easy to let the sounds slip away from the foreground. “Jitter Heart” plays out as would be expected given its title – the same whimsical treble as heard earlier on, weaving its way forward and upward amidst a slightly scattered beat. The other songs are a little more curious, as it’s difficult to ascertain exactly where they begin to seem like second nature to the listener. Needless to say it’s a wholly pleasant journey from start to finish that whets the appetite for a full length release. A delicate work is this thing called Vanitas, as it tiptoes around the periphery being as interesting for your mind to decipher as it is for your ears to interpret.
