BOYO, the solo project of singer-songwriter Robert Tilden, sounds like cool—like the kind of music blasting behind the hip older sibling’s bedroom door in a coming-of-age flick, or the soundtrack for weekends of irresponsible spontaneity in real life. With earworm-y chord progressions and deadpan vocals—the core of BOYO’s oeuvre—Tilden’s third and newest full-length Dance Alone glides from fast to slow with effortless agility." /> L.A. Record

BOYO: DANCE ALONE

November 30th, 2018 | Album reviews

BOYO
Dance Alone
Danger Collective

BOYO, the solo project of singer-songwriter Robert Tilden, sounds like cool—like the kind of music blasting behind the hip older sibling’s bedroom door in a coming-of-age flick, or the soundtrack for weekends of irresponsible spontaneity in real life. With earworm-y chord progressions and deadpan vocals—the core of BOYO’s oeuvre—Tilden’s third and newest full-length Dance Alone glides from fast to slow with effortless agility. Luminously optimistic guitar and synth hooks frost over with drowsy depressing revelations: “I don’t wanna break it off, but I can only live in the moment,” warns Tilden on “Programming,” while the most anthemic verse from “Freaky” closes with a confessional: “I love you, but you’re freaking me out.” Even the breezy singles (“Attics” and “Hit or Miss”) purposefully contradict the album’s constant and almost narcotic calm, like closing track “Secure” or introspective psych-pop cut “Timeframes.” Really, Tilden’s music sounds like Los Angeles: sun-soaked yet smoggy, dreamy yet dispiriting. As with the city itself, the contrast is charismatic.

—Sydney Sweeney