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Modern Psychedelics: Toro Y Moi

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Places + Faces

Places + Faces

Feeling the music is just the release of dopamine in our brains. During what we can only vaguely describe as the “peak emotional moments” in songs, our bodies are anticipating and responding to the reward centers of our brains—the same area affected by drugs like cocaine and amphetamines—the hairs on your arms stand up, a cold shiver rushes down your spine, a buzzy warmth washes over your body, and the day goes on rose-tinted for the next little while. Maybe this is why we put songs on repeat; the act of listening to a three-minute snippet for hours on end only makes sense if it feels (and sounds) similar to that level of amazing.

This is especially true when it comes to the music of Chaz Bear, better known as Toro Y Moi, a leader of the chillwave sub-genre. It’s easy to get lost listening to Boo Boo, Chaz’s latest studio album. His tunes transport you somewhere else entirely in a happy hum that’s almost impossible to place—you lose yourself in what could be the ‘80s, ‘90s, ‘60s or just right now. Your mind is blanketed in a spaced-out bliss, expertly woven from indie-pop rhythms, synth melodies and mellow lyrics.

Chaz, who has a background in graphic design and hops back and forth with his art and music, admits that music is something he’s always been hooked on, something that’s constantly on his mind. At one point, he admitted that he had trouble focusing on our conversation because we could hear the drums of his neighbor’s rehearsing band, ever so faintly in the background. Having held his first solo art exhibit this year in Los Angeles, art is a way for Chaz to escape and get his mind off of music, even if it’s only for a second.

Chazwick Bundick is of mixed-race African American and Filipino descent, and his stage name derives from a mix of French and Spanish origins, Toro Y Moi, or translated, the “bull and me.” Right down to his name(s) and its changes, his work is an eclectic mix-mash of genius. The unmistakable aura around him and his work all trace back to ‘70s-era psychedelia. His style of mashed up, mixed influences—slightly confused indie yet reflecting the subculture back on itself in laughing irony—he says is a mixture of trying to bring humor and lightness to people through art and music, much in the same vein as a good psychedelic experience. The chameleonic qualities of his music have taken him out of the typical sub-cultural independent realm and into the mainstream spotlight with collaborations alongside Travis Scott and Tyler, the Creator, amongst others.

My trip to his studio in Oakland echoed the same sentiment. Driving past the high-rises, across the Bay Bridge and entering the village of the independents, I pulled up to a well-kept front yard that hid both his music and art studios. I stepped into the yard and sank into a weather-worn lawn chair beside a shiny, well-used Weber grill.

Between puffs of a partially-smoked joint pulled from his front pocket, our conversation meandered from his musical journey to the irony of current fashion, to the cultural shifts in the world that may see the relatively niche genre of ambient music become mainstream.

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