Yves Tumor: “Echolalia”

Pierced by arrows, pricked by thorns—canonical images of love often feature a kind of penetration, a breaking through the drywall of one’s sense of self. In the video for Yves Tumor’s latest single “Echolalia,” which announces their forthcoming album Praise A Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds), the artist is tied down and nailed through the heart. Tumor sings with a masochist’s tenderness over strutting rock, pleading for the touch and torture of a figure they repeatedly address as “God.”

“Echolalia” is defined as an involuntary repetition of words or sounds, and this motif is carried throughout the song by Tumor’s singing, which stalls out wistfully, even orgasmically, on single syllables until they’re stretched out into an undeniable hook. The crashing cymbals, syncopated drumming, and pile-driving bassline are all familiar components of Tumor’s music, but they’re notably more deferential compared to the skyscraping heights of “Kerosene!” or “Jackie.” A spoken interlude halfway through the song spells out a kind of philosophy of connection: One person’s love cannot be complete for two, making the song a sickly sweet compliment to the jagged abjection of Tumor’s previous track “God Is a Circle.” On “Echolalia” the singer opens themselves to their lover, and the resulting pain feels so good.