TOVI’s I Don’t Think We Can Be Friends starts with swaggering bass and sharply punched drums that bite with a crisp sharpness, but within the song’s fifth second, musician Rebecca Emms already subverts our expectations. A cacophony of electronic noise rains down on us — fuzzy drum patterns, staccato melodies and squeaky analogue synths create a chaotic and disorientating sound that almost feels at war with the artist. That perhaps explains why the various elements of instrumentation become visualised in the form of digital paint smeared across the song’s video, which otherwise consists of a slightly bored looking Emms, obscured by the all that noise.
Talking about that video, which she created, Emms said:
“This song, the colour of each instrument really comes across to me with so much personality. My aim with the video was to basically put a ‘face’ to the sound — the movement and colour of these sonic personalities.”
TOVI references some of the music she loved as a teen as being an inspiration for I Don’t Think We Can Be Friends, specifically Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Fever To Tell. With production from Josh Korody, and mastering from MSTRKRFT and Death From Above 1979’s Jesse F Keeler, the song but blends that sound into something that draws on all the bits of mid- to late-00s alternative rock and electronic music. The whole piece just reeks of attitude, in the best possible way.
The song comes alongside the announcement of TOVI’s forthcoming debut album, I Keep Floating Away, and Emms describes this new song as:
“...A mini anthem about being okay with letting go of people who cause you heartache or just made you feel like shit. Sonically, I think the track channels some of the albums I loved in my teens –like Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Fever to Tell – just pure fun. When it comes to songwriting and being in the studio, I’m learning to let the chips fall where they may, stop overthinking every decision. I’ve taken my songwriting pretty seriously over the years, which is still really important to me, but I am also becoming more inspired by notes and textures — and allowing that lead me somewhere new.”
The result is a truly thrilling piece of art, even if it lasts just under three minutes. That tension between the organic and electronic elements within the song feel like the emotional interplay that exists when we try to forget about someone and move on... The machine hitting like the persistent desire to go back in, even when you have decided to move on.
Can’t wait to hear more, and in the meantime will be playing this a lot.