Dijon is the king of symbolism on his new EP

It’s everyone’s favorite secret. Dijon sits just below the surface, en route to breaking through the underground with shoutouts from acclaimed artists like Brockhampton, and a YouTube comments section that ranges from “you’re so underrated it hurts” to “Dijon might pee into a microphone and I would still cry lying on my bare back.

The people of YouTube have spoken correctly. Dijon’s new EP sci fi 1 is the music you cry to, preferably undressed while taking a shower in the dark, floating free in the privacy of its sound but still bound by the walls of the shower (or the walls of grief, in a metaphorical sense. ) Dijon’s personal interest in symbolism inspires yet another allegory in response to his sound: sci fi 1 is a flow you want to rock your baby to, ensuring that the child grows up with the ability to love Frank Ocean or Miguel.

The Dijon crooner sound stumbles through the sadness of longing and nostalgia, navigating an extremely simplistic, yet transcendent dazed space. Most striking, however, is Dijon’s symbolic capacity, allowing a short three-minute song to take on the rhetorical effect of a full novel. In an interview with The Fader, Dijon explains, “There’s a separation of American symbolism and ideas…to not look like a dickhead – (there’s) a human need for these symbols and signifiers as weird representations and abstracts of humanity. It’s fascinating.

For this reason, sci fi 1 elevates itself by approaching grief with unassuming, unheralded analogies that enable desire in ways mere fact cannot. The “X-factor” that has Frank Ocean fans rocking their babies to the Dijon sound, however, is his questioning of minorities taking on symbols used by predominantly white artists. Dijon is of Guamanian descent and spent most of her childhood moving back and forth between the United States and Germany before attending the University of Maryland. Similar to Tyler The Creator, his R&B sound is based in part on tropes of whiteness that would otherwise not be associated with his ethnicity.

Arguably the most powerful track on the EP, “Dog Eyes” examines the abstract qualities of discouragement. Accompanied by a guitar with white noise holes, the soft buzz of a Dijon voice rises to the thought of his intimate other with his eyes as wide, red and finally, dog eyes. With a quick spin at PetMd (written and vet approved), we can tell that dog eyes allow for much less vibrant grainy vision, with more difficulty in differentiating shades as well as human eyes. Additionally, dogs see better in dim or low-light conditions than humans. Personally, the inevitable pain and longing for lost momentum becomes more tangible to me as I navigate through the lens of a dog’s vision, and lyrics like “A sea of ​​gray and black around you, I have dog eyes when I think of you” come live. The imagery of a dog’s shining eyes is a feeling the broken heart didn’t even know it needed, as it enlivens walking through shades of gray and black.

Paired with his abstract inclinations, Dijon plays masterfully on the use of personal sorrows which, in reality, are extremely universal. Everyone and their mothers seem to remember a teenage summer, which Dijon captures in their single “Cannonball.” “Cannonball” completes the melancholy of “Dog Eyes” as it stumbles through space in sensual pain. Its cannonball-in-the-pool analogies add coming-of-age undercurrents to a song that otherwise seeks physical gratification. Coupled with its high register and bursts of aggression that disrupt the guitar’s sweetness, the summer breeze shivers through your spine.

If Frank Ocean is close to your heart, it is absolutely essential to listen to Dijon. Not to be misinterpreted, his creativity and artistry give him his own personal path separate from Ocean’s, but it’s like he’s Ocean’s second cousin. And who wouldn’t want to cry, lying on their bare back in the shower, to this intimate, singing sound?

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