You’re out of scotch. You open all your windows and a slight trickle of the afternoon’s rain drips into the spongy grass outside. The perfect stillness of the night makes you wonder if you’ve come untethered from the world, a blip in a timeline that has already forgotten you. This trancelike moment, when others with weaker constitutions have abandoned hope, is precisely when the three members of Yum picked up their instruments and recorded their hushed bossa novas and fragile music box melodies. They did it to save you.
Imagine "The Girl from Ipanema" shipwrecked on an island made of tinfoil where it is perpetually five minutes before sunrise. Samantha Skinner’s breathy voice can at once be a soothing lullaby and a whispered warning. That tension is what makes this album so wonderful. Opener, "In My Room", threatens to burst from its quiet confines, the drums crispy in the mix but played with a gentle touch. When the distortion finally kicks in halfway through, there’s still that sense of unease, as if you don’t know the whole story.
The album standout comes at the end. "Medicine and Tea" is mysterious and atmospheric like the best qualities of Blonde Redhead, a band that must come up a lot when discussing Yum’s sound. Skinner’s plaintive coos supplant the chorus in favor of a dreamy haze. After eight songs of late night reminiscing and nuanced discord, this is the perfect way to end their flawlessly sequenced album. That’s the magic of Yum, even after Take My Blue has ended, it’s still with you, echoing ever so slightly in your head. You don’t have to spend those late night hours alone. Hear for yourself, in person, at their album release party on Friday, 10/18/13. –Written by Josh Denslow