At first listen, it can easily be said that Valentine's "Her" is a kawaii future bass work, saturated in fun and perky synths. But it goes much deeper than that with each listen. The composition and complexities of the track begin to tug at inexplicable portions of the heart. With every listen of "Her" from the upcoming producer, I visualize a conceptual imaginative scene. When music narrates as well as implements emotion in an imaginative nature, it's going beyond it's sole purpose.
Picture this: Your 1998 game boy color coming back to life. It's blips and blops of music have matured and taken on a 3-dimensional life, only soon to be introduced and deteriorated by exposure to raw human emotion. As unconventional and silly as it sounds, that's the image I process in my brain when listening to Valentine's "Her". I visualize a robot, built to overcome the harshest conditions, built to serve and disassociate itself from any human characteristic. This robot stands strictly functional in it's purpose. But what happens when this synthetic construction is able to comprehend the spectrum of human emotion? This irony is a puzzling thought, to think that something bluntly synthetic be the vessel of our internal fears and emotions. This is exactly what "Her" does. With it's sweet pitched vocals, metallic tinged synths, the product still runs clear as something built off raw feelings. The track equates electronic music to any other genre out there, proving that electronic producers have just as much power in fostering emotion within listeners. With each subtle glitch and beep carving denser emotion into "Her", this marks one of Valentine's best works to date.