Beginning with a thousand fluttering butterfly synth stabs, scattering asunder with all the nervously hyperactive focus-distraction of a Sunday morning at an after-party in any city in the world, ‘Stay’ reflects the sudden urgency of the realisation of impending post-chemical, post-club loneliness perfectly.
Atlanta native, Adam Alexander, is yet to turn twenty, but already boasts a musical profundity and maturity few 18 year-olds are privy to; starting piano lessons at the tender age of four, Alexander wrote his first song at seven years old. It follows, then, that his parents are musicians, his bass-player father introducing him to a myriad of genres and styles. While most teenagers strive tirelessly to escape their parents’ stymying influence, Alexander credits his as his greatest muse.
It’s no surprise, given this context, that ‘Stay’ is such a confident, accomplished, sensitive piece of work. Rarely for an electronic composition, this *actually* swings – a testament to Alexander’s keen palate of stylistic touchstones including jazz legend Herbie Hancock. If the cornerstone of jazz is feel, it’s all over this, and how.
Elsewhere, deep gloaming bass rumbles under skittering synth flourishes, spinning euphoria and profound, inescapable melancholy. Alexander’s silky tenor looms large over the track, at once considered and desperate, cool and frustrated. “Just stay a little while”, he purrs, at once a seductive coo and a plaintive plea. Amber Mark’s guest vocal adds a sugary layer of sweetness and complements the darker side of ‘Stay’ masterfully. Sensual, slick, with a hint of sadness. We’re sold.