One night at The Crux (Deluxe): Djo’s dark, angsty expansion to the world of The Crux
Written by Eve Elliot
When Djo’s third album, The Crux, was released back in April, it was his most advanced and diverse collection of songs to date. This month’s release of The Crux (Deluxe) expands upon the original twelve songs in ways that are darker, experimental, and more complex.
The Crux (Deluxe) spans genres from hyper-pop to grunge and everything in between, making the listening experience unlike any other. The first big departure from The Crux’s indie-rock style comes on the third track, with a song titled “Mr. Mountebank”. This song, a cautionary tale about the dangers of material success, sounds like Djo’s addition to Charli xcx’s Brat. He opens the first verse with “Climb fast, money talks / Then they wanna sell you on what you’re all about”. His voice is dripping with autotune, encouraging us to dig deep and really listen in order to hear the message. The tempo change midway through the song keeps the listening experience interesting and is the first indicator that Djo will be abandoning traditional song structures for this deluxe edition of songs.
Extreme sonic shifts are a theme throughout the album, and we can hear this creative choice featured again on the following track, “Carry the Name”. Released as a single in the week leading up to The Crux (Deluxe) drop, “Carry the Name” is a mellow, ELO-inspired tune about the challenges of moving on from a relationship. The song starts out somber and acoustic-guitar-heavy as Djo sings from a state of denial, “Is it all the same / To carry your name? / That’s not that bad”. In the first verse, Djo puts up a brave front and attempts to move on from the relationship while holding on to the memories that made it worth the heartbreak. When the first chorus hits, he reveals his struggle and his fear of trying to find love again over a bouncy piano reminiscent of the sound used on his track “Charlie’s Garden” from The Crux.
Despite this new collection of songs being thematically darker and more heartwrenching than those on The Crux, it’s clear that each set of songs is just a different side of the same coin. Where The Crux focuses on the highs of being in love and the freedom of moving on, The Crux (Deluxe) wallows in the heartbreak and angst for a bit longer, but ultimately exposes the beauty of those sad, intense feelings. To further cement the connection between the two works, Djo reuses sound effects and melodies that are familiar to anyone who’s spent some time at The Crux. “It’s Over” ends with an echoed voice yelling “wait!” as the song dies out. The same cry can be heard on The Crux’s “Fly,” in which Djo sings about knowing when it’s time to grow apart from someone you once cared deeply about. Even as he sings about the end of a relationship, there’s a lingering voice crying out for us to hold on for one more moment.
This familiarity continues into “Purgatory Silverstar”, the most experimental song on the album and my personal favorite. What begins as an acoustic waltz quickly changes into something entirely new. And then changes again. And again. The song can be divided into about four distinct sections, each with its own unique style. The beauty lies in the transitions, which blend the different styles in a way that is virtually seamless. You’re completely lost in the new section before you even realize that you’re essentially listening to a brand new song. An incredible synth swell about two minutes into the song pulls the listener in for an emotional beat before taking off in a new direction. Djo sings, “It feels like a big waste of time / I don’t seem to mind / Why?”. This question explains the shifting of musical styles as Djo tries to determine who he is and ponders what led to the demise of the relationship he’s singing about. The final section of the song uses a melodic line from The Crux’s “Potion” with new lyrics that completely demolish the optimism of the original song. “I took it for granted, all that you do / Coming up empty-handed in a patchwork of truth”. Here we see Djo owning his mistakes and taking blame for the downfall of the relationship. Another key lyric comes right before the final section of the song as he sings, “It’s the end / So bye-bye blue / In my dreams, I’m back on you”. Directly referencing his song “Back On You”, he calls attention to the night-and-day qualities of the original album and this new set of songs (perfectly captured in the night-and-day visuals of The Crux and The Crux (Deluxe) album covers).
The second half of the album includes other highlights such as “Who You Are”, a bittersweet ode to an old love that borrows from and builds upon the pre-chorus of The Crux’s “Fly”. The angst-filled anthem “They Don’t Know What’s Right”, which sounds like it was meant to be screamed at the top of your lungs. The atmospheric lullaby “Thich Nhat Hanh” consists mostly of synth and acoustic guitar with the added sound effect of a light switch to end the song and tie in the lyric, “The light will / Never die”. To finish off the album, The Crux (Deluxe) ends with a modern grunge classic titled “Awake”. “Awake” marks new terrain for Djo, who until this point has not delved into the grunge genre in such a direct way. The song also features some of his vaguest lyrics as he tries out a more classically poetic writing style. In the second verse, he sings, “Blue eye turning black / Black-eyed education / Come on, swallow that / Cat claw in the basement”. The song sounds like a lost Nirvana track, which kicks into gear just after the three-minute mark. A heavily distorted guitar takes center stage and ends the album on a much darker note than its predecessor. Regardless of this tonal shift, both The Crux and The Crux (Deluxe) end by giving the listener a similar feeling of catharsis. By listening to all twenty-four songs, we get a sense of all of the complicated feelings that define life and love. There’s hope, heartbreak, joy, anger, and everything in between.
All in all, I can’t say enough good things about this expansion to the world of The Crux. Djo’s decision to release this deluxe set of songs, which perfectly accompany and improve upon the original album, is one I am incredibly grateful for. Not only do these twelve songs provide a different angle for the stories from The Crux, they also display different sides of Djo as he ventures into new genres and styles, refusing to let his music stagnate. It’s impossible to know which direction he will go in next, but I certainly can’t wait to find out.
