Yota - The Touch

Review by Karl Magi

Overall Album Impressions

Yota’s “The Touch” captures all of the fierce intensity and heartbreaking pain that comes with loving. The way in which LifeLike’s production wraps around Yota’s beautifully nuanced and powerful vocal performances deepens the emotive strength of the lyrics she has crafted. The music ranges in mood from affectionate and playful to darkly broken and aching, each shift in atmosphere supported by the producer’s ability to weave a framework that strengthens the vocalist’s performance and amplifies the emotions permeating the songs.

Anchoring “The Touch” are Yota’s vocal abilities and expressive performances. She can slice with painful honesty, reach out with sensual passion and fill her voice with need and yearning that pierces me. Each song showcases her ability to translate lyrics into direct, dynamic expression. Yota engages me with her interpretation of the words she’s written, taking me along on the album’s journey. The way she captures the heart of the music makes for compelling listening.

Along with her vocal performances, Yota’s lyrical writing is essential to “The Touch..” The lyrics are touching, grasping me with their immediate and unvarnished expression. Each song outlines a different part of a complex and evolving relationship, drawing me toward the feelings being explored. I can relate my own life to the words she has written.

As for the production, each producer brings all of their skills to “The Touch.” The way they combine different synth tones, timbres and textures creates a supportive framework for the vocals. They fill the music with melodies that run from gentleness and affection to shadowed pain. The rhythms drive the music with energy and the sound design aligns with the album’s emotional tenor.

My Favourite Songs Analyzed

“At Night” opens as an actively bursting beat and a laser-bright synth dance with uplifting dynamism. A quickly swirling note pattern spangles the music as the pumping rhythm launches with dance floor-filling urgency. The tambourine adds another bright element while intertwining notes shift with a phosphor-glow.

The beat jumps as Yota’s dusky vocals shift with fervent feeling, carrying the melody. In the distance, shivering notes give off faraway light while the thudding beat is joined by tightly flickering tones. Yota enraptures me with her soulful performance, drawing me into the song’s heart.

Once again, intense radiance spills through the music as the low end skips easily. The drum beat is punchy while Yota fills her words with deep wanting. The synth dances with energetic brilliance while the rhythm drives on. The vocals are full of ache as the music moves on, smoothly entangled notes tumbling. The grounding pulse is steady and compelling before the song draws to an end.

“Why don’t you try with me?” is the narrator’s question for the song’s subject. She wants to know why the other person doesn’t put in any effort and she adds that they can’t “keep it low and hide.” She wonders if giving the song’s subject another reason might make them come her way. The other person gives her a meaningful glance as she says, “It’s hot and I feel alone.”

Our storyteller’s defenses are failing as she exclaims, “When it’s late at night, they start to howl at you.” She wants the song’s subject to howl at her. Once again, she asks, “If I give you just another reason, would you come my way?” Another powerful glance is exchanged and the storyteller adds, “Howl at me now.” As the song concludes, the narrator says, “I can hear them howling for you at night. I can hear them calling for two, that’s right.”

Softly staticky sounds move with a tremulous echo and a gently ticking beat begins to add form as “The Touch” comes into being. The chords drift with a wistful sensation before the strong drums and fat bass intertwine in a steady groove. Yota’s whisper-soft voice glides with ardent feeling as the rhythm continues to throb. The percussion creates a metallic, slipping sound as rich synth drifts with Yota’s voice, weaving a melody full of affectionate desire.

The underlying pulsation is velvety as Yota enchants me with her performance. Her vocals are breathy but strong while burnished tones glow like fire and vibrating notes shiver above the luxuriant bass. Ringing notes gutter like candle flames as the bass underpinning continues to flow below the levitating vocals. LifeLike's production drips layered warmth through the song. The groove is undeniable as Yota’s buoyant voice moves like tiny sparks rising into the night sky.

Ecstasy and love permeate the melody and the vocals capture the lyrics with effective expression. A broadly slipping synth flares like flames reflected in a mirror. Trembling notes in the distance contrast with the denser, full-sounding synth as it expands. Beneath it all, the foundational pulsation shimmies before the track drifts away into silence.

As our storyteller is drawn towards the song’s subject, she says it’s “systematic, step by step closer to the ecstatic.” The other person uplifts her mind and they meet “somewhere high above the sky.” She wants the other person to “level up and rise up to my mood” because it’s so divine.

The narrator and the song’s subject are “falling in love again with the touch” as she speaks of a slow delay while the other person vanishes “in your vision of me.” She says, “in my vision I still drown in you, slowly dive.”

“I’ll get lost and face the fire with your embrace,” she admits, because it’s “a burning flame, untamable like you.” Our storyteller realizes there’s no escape from the song’s subject because “when we start to feel fire, the fire burns in you.”

“Under the Rain” begins with washing raindrops and reverent notes that glide past with silky ease. Thunder rumbles as the rain continues to splash and the slowly floating chimes are joined by a sensually swirling beat. Yota's voice is breath-warmed and tender, full of aching expression and ardent feeling.

The melody is gentle and loving, reaching out to touch with a lover's fingers. A sense of relaxation and passion mingles in my mind as this song unfolds, guided by the vocalist’s enfolding performance that draws me into the emotional world of the lyrics. The rhythm is calming and carries me away while Yota's velvet voice takes hold of the ache and blazing intensity that characterizes this song.

Chimes sparkle like candlelight while the vocal performance slips all around me like silky sheets and a wandering saxophone drifts in the distance. Softly pleasurable out-breaths tremble as the rain falls and silence descends.

There's no good explanation for the things the narrator says are changing. She adds that she tried to “stop this locomotion,” but when the song's subject is around, she can’t fake it. She adds, “If you think that it's right, then why not come back for some more? It feels like before, then I'm not going to fight, am I?” She’ll catch the other person “if it feels like you’re falling” and stand by them because she’s coming to realize that “we can’t let this die.”

Our storyteller found the song's subject under the rain, “where our worlds collide.” That’s the place where she sees that “no one feels like you,” adding that she won’t see them cry. She continues, “Believe when I say that I thought there was no one that could make me feel this way.” She concludes, “It’s so different, come back to me baby, I wanna feel like before.”

An ephemeral sonic sweep is joined by a pounding bass to commence “Before Our Souls Divide.” Quickly vibrating sounds rattle as the punching foundation is joined by Yota’s floating, breathily caressing voice. The steadily driving beat creates a rhythmic flow and the melody is full of gossamer sensations. The way in which Yota's voice transmits the hopeful, still-hurting lyrics is deeply touching for me.

The synth spills brilliance while Yota adds power to her delicate vocals, deepening their expressive nature. The underpinnings are propulsive while the vocals trail like mist and the drifting notes tumble one over the other. An enchanted sensation permeates the vocal performance, cutting me to the core.

Continually intertwining notes shimmer while darker sounds drift. The toms add another percussive layer as the beat becomes unstoppable. The melody rises with intense fullness and heartbreaking sensation while the root pulse pushes on. The levitating vocals exhale before the track closes on enfolding tones.

“Before our souls divide, you burned it all down,” the storyteller says and each time she feels like she’s losing the song’s subject. She asks, “Did we lose it all, did we rise and fall?” Every time, she says the other person was the violent sun that “burned it all down,” leaving her wondering if they truly did destroy everything between them.

“Now it seems you couldn’t change, so we’ll break apart,” because the narrator realizes that “there’s just no way to tame a wild heart that never heals when we’re facing the night.” She asks the other person to turn out the light because “it’s in the dark the truth lies.” She tells them to cover their eyes and sacrifice because “we’ll pray before our souls divide.”

With the things the song’s subject does, our storyteller asks why they’re still holding on to her. She adds, “The things you feel when you’re all alone, open up your darkness and it’s pushing you away.” It seems to her that the other person is “holding fear deep inside your heart,” so they’re “pulling each other into the dark before we leave when we’re facing the night.”

Reverberating, elastic synth moves as Yota’'s voice wanders in haunting motion to start “One More Reason.” The tranquil synth flows with a sweeping drumbeat and Yota’s tentatively hovering vocal performance. The foundation is massive as the velvet-smooth vocals drift and tones with indigo luminosity spread out while the drums disappear.

Hushed emotion fills the vocals as the rhythm continues to skip smoothly, Yota capturing me with her soulful ache. The beat adds shape as the drifting vocals slip past in layers of satin tenderness. The background synth fills the music with sparkle as the vocals touch my ears with a broken sense of need.

Once again, the background takes over with soothing notes slowly trembling as the bass rebounds. Peaceful thought touches me before the underlayer pushes forward and Yota extends her emotionally complex vocals. Scintillating tones tumble one over the other as the continually throbbing rhythm gives the music shape. The song ends as the vocals glide with elegance.

Everything that the narrator and the song's subject had is gone, so "I can't give you more, baby." As another night passes with the other person away, nothing's the same as it was. It’s just "another night, another day where time stands still and you're gone." She still feels the same as before, but "we both know I can't give you more."

As our storyteller broke through and "violent forces cut me loose, breaking down the walls I had," she was brought back to life, but the song’s subject "knew to pull the strings that turned me mad," so she'll give them one more reason not to love her. She reiterates that she can't give the other person any more.

The light they once saw is fading and "it will all start to drift apart, these ties would not hold the weight a hundredth time," as the ground beneath the other person's throne breaks and there's "a silence that speaks louder than a lie." She concludes, "you made it all fall apart and I will watch it slow, we are losing this game."

“Hide” comes alive as a charging foundation launches with Yota’s voice climbing to the heavens, wordlessly conveying blazing emotion. Shimmering tones move above the heavily punching bass and clean drums while Yota's voice flies with fervent intensity. In contrast to the unstoppable underpinnings, her vocals rise with reverence and breathy gentleness to capture my heart.

The intense propulsion is cut by diamond chimes that sparkle into the twilight while the vocals touch like drops of starlight. The main melody captures loss with piercing strength, carried on Yota's glistening vocals. The grounding pulse adds muscle as a medium-high synth trickles, broadcasting its galactic brightness.

The lead synth exudes summer sunlight while the undulating low end presses forward. A synth solo sings with unbridled energy, spilling out hurt as it twists and leaps. The thunderous rhythm joins the soaring vocals and glittering notes, fragile and brilliant, as the full-throated vocals punch home the song’s message. The music closes with a warm wash of tones tumbling one over the other.

A sound lingers and the storyteller’s still holding on, but she knows “those days are gone.” She might not be the one the song’s subject wants her to be, but “I’ll be the one that stays, I’m the echo in your brain, the melody won’t die.” She says it’s important to realize that “faced eye to eye, it’s never gonna be what he wants to see” or what he wants to conceal from her.

Pattering drums and a churning, violin-like sound expand into action to kick off “Last Goodbye.” The electric bass deepens as vibrating tones create a tense sensation, tinged by tambourine shimmer. The lead singer’s voice is like a leaf in the wind as it aches and trembles, capturing the pain in the lyrics. Echoing vocals move with the mournful brass that calls above the strumming guitar, touching me with the brokenness.

Shining tones shiver and the percussion drops away as the vocalist grasps the damaged feelings in the music. As the track swells, the pain is slashed by a guitar that cuts sharply while the bass rumbles. The whole track exudes emptiness as the guitar climbs with bittersweet emotion, adding a blues-inflected voice above the churning low end before the piece closes.

As “the skies tonight are made of the colours that we like,” they illuminate the pain the narrator and the subject hide. The other person said she failed, so “we’re gonna make this the last goodbye,” and it will take everything she has to let go. A “distant cry says please let’s try,” but she knows it’s time. She misses their face, “I’ve never seen it shine so bright,” yet this must be the last goodbye. She will “slowly erase the sky, pretend that it doesn’t feel,” trying to forget the raw pain.

“Monster” starts off as resonant strings and calm piano mingle with thoughtful effect. The foundation softly touches as Yota’s trembling, hurt vocals carry the whispering melody with tear-invoking expression. The background sails smoothly, the production slipping around the words with subtle tranquility, contrasting with the darkness and shattered feelings within the lyrics.

The piano ripples with the strings, and I feel myself tearing up at the brokenness in Yota's voice. The guiding beat is fragile while the melody is full of a gentle filigree of melancholy. The vocals have depth and strength despite their light touch, feathery but compelling. As the piano chords grow stronger, the strings flash with warming light and tiny tones add an additional sparkle. Yota has an undeniably beautiful voice and carries the melody with wistful sensations before the music ends.

Her heart must be mistaken about “how hard it is to let you go” as the storyteller sails away in a “forever sea.” If it hurts, the song's subject will be “painfully ignored,” and when it begins to bleed, “I know you secretly adore the signs.” She asks if the monster is alive and “does it creep around and make you cry?” She adds that if it wants to live, “baby, kill it one more time.”

As the narrator stares deep into the eyes of the monster, “I saw it cry (like a distant sigh).” She says it's funny how it felt as if it was still alive, but “all the signs we used to chase are now invisible, only fractions of a monster could appear sometimes.” She’s come to realize that “If Heaven is calling” then the angels are falling and “we’ll never make them fly, so it’s over.” To conclude, she says she can’t take it and she’s gone, because the only thing left to see is “a monster in our minds.”

A majestic piano explodes with brilliant light to begin “This Time.” The piano chords are triumphant as the foundational beat dances with the sharp-edged, radiant synth. Percussion snaps cleanly as the background spills out encouraging luminosity. The bass is lush as the drums clatter in an even rhythm and Yota’s floating voice begins to gain strength.

The main melody exudes pure brightness into the music while the warming vocals tug at my heartstrings. The piano trembles with hopeful sensations. Yota carries a sense of movement within her voice as it slowly fades away along with the drums.

The narrator simply asks if they can work it out together and adds, “Let’s change this time.”

Conclusion

“The Touch” fills me with deep feeling and evokes a personal connection. This is music that delves into the nuances and challenges of loving another person, each song drawing me closer and leaving me satisfied by the experience.