Remember Grimes? She’s back! In demo form!

[Video][Website]
[7.45]

Madeleine Lee: I used to avoid listening to Grimes the way I used to run out of the room at the sound of my own voice being played back. I already knew what it was like to be isolated in Montreal in the winter, and I didn’t want to know what another person’s idea of that was, because I didn’t want her reality to eclipse my own. It helped that I didn’t “get” most of Visions that wasn’t “Oblivion,” but I refused to get it, anyway. When “REALiTi” first came out, I finally got it. (And got over myself, at least a little.) Not just because it’s a well-made melodic pop song under all the gorgeous floaty echoing bits, but because I realized I’d misunderstood the purpose of sharing your own story: not to eclipse all others, but to turn on a light that people might recognize, and encourage them to turn on their own.
[10]

Alfred Soto: As tinny as a Christmas tree ornament, the album version gets its energy from the faintest of melodic shifts played on sequencers. It reminds me Eighth Wonder’s “I’m Not Scared,” of trying to hide the tremble from other people — other men — and sometimes failing. The original is closer to synth pop, a genre where melancholy forms an essential part of its genetic code. The differences are Solomonic.
[8]

Katherine St Asaph: I get the impulse to say “I prefer the demo.” I really do. But consider that Grimes is both a singer and a producer and knows exactly what she wants her voice to do, and that taking women seriously as creative directors involves allowing that their judgment might be generally right? This isn’t to say the artist is infallible and the critic is meddling scum, but the possibility could at least be acknowledged. Some of this is personal preference — purposefully lo-fi recordings just make me want to hear the song beneath the dirt and noise (and they’re not inherently virtuous), and demos usually seem clumsy once I hear the full song. (Exceptions: “Why Should I Love You,” “Milan,” “Everything Is Embarrassing.”) But the album version of “Realiti” has the distinction of making me cry, literally, to an Alice Deejay preset, while the demo version would have me re-recording: flatting the high notes, breaths in the wrong place (“taking all my — time” vs. “taking — all my time:), syllables landing like metronomic thumps rather than words (“mor, ning, there, are, moun, tains, to, climb…”), meaningful lines delivered in an imperceptible murmur. These would be horribly picky critiques if these weren’t the exact things Grimes fixed in the demo. Elsewhere, the pacing plods. That awful/perfect synth line is buried in the mix. The dynamic range seems washed out; in fact, the whole song does. These are, of course, all characteristics of a demo, particularly the vocals. (Just today I recorded about two hundred scales trying to figure out once and for all my passaggio; the results are godawful singing and no one will ever hear it.) But I don’t understand how anyone could possibly prefer this version, except for listening infinity times and emotionally imprinting. And “Realiti” is written for just that. An album ago Grimes seemed like a trend singularity whom too many writers used as an unfortunate lightning rod for their anxious projection. On Art Angels she’s vibrant, brilliant, the voice of and reassurance for the best kind of people. This deserves a [10], but, well, demo.
[9]

Patrick St. Michel: First, the obnoxious: this “demo” version is way, way better than the version that ended up as a bonus-ish track on Art Angels, by a pretty big margin. This “REALiTi” sounds blurrier, heavier around the eyelids and in a perpetual state of being this close to dozing off. Yet it’s in this fuzzy state where no-caps reality can seem most beautiful if you let it, both the good parts and the bad parts you can’t avoid. Amid the wisps, that’s just what Grimes focuses on, and the imperfect sound is ultimately what makes this feel so special.
[9]

Megan Harrington: Imagine a birthday cake decorated with: sprinkles, frosting, gel frosting, sugar crystals, fondant, gummi bears, m&ms, chopped nuts, chocolate chips, peanut butter, nutella, and pretzels. Listening to “REALiTi” is the equivalent of taking a bite of this cake. It’s overwhelming just for the sake of maximalism. Instead of choosing one of the many singular good ideas she has strewn about, Grimes lazily heaps them one on top of another to create a massive, disgusting confection. I feel like a sadistic ballet teacher whenever I think of her music, but Grimes simply must learn some discipline. 
[0]

Thomas Inskeep: Super-sharp pop that deserves to be massive. How does the mainstream pop landscape not understand that Grimes is rising high above most of the pack right now? Even her demos are better than much of what’s on the radio, at least in the U.S.
[8]

Will Adams: Demos are tricky. Whether leaked or intentionally release, they pose the threat of derailing the success of the final product, prompting a spot-the-difference game that needlessly severs listeners into camps of this one or that one. With few exceptions (namely, “Everything Is Embarrassing”), I believe demo versions must remain so: internal products that serve as a first draft/stepping stone for an artist and their inner circle. Despite “REALiTi” being a unique case, in that its demo was so well-received that Grimes retooled it for Art Angels, the finished version is superior on all counts. This demo still works (really, it speaks to Grimes’ skill as a producer that this demo, just a doctored MP3, sounds as good as it does; I’m a firm believer of “mix as you go,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if Grimes takes the same approach), but from a producer’s standpoint, I have to champion the fully realized, true version. On the finished “REALiTi,” the kick drum is clean instead of muddy; the vocals are precise and upfront instead of swamped in reverb; each drum (and there are a lot) sits in its appropriate frequency and pops at the right moment; the upward transposition lifts the song; the additional minute was warranted from the get-go. So while the “REALiTi” demo was an [8] for the months it hung out in my iTunes library, it’s rendered obsolete by the new version.
[6]

Brad Shoup: What’s just a synth stutter in the final version started, it would seem, as something baldly Eurodance. I suppose demos are bought because we think of them as portals and not blueprints. I say “we” because I really want to hear Grimes issue something baldly Eurodance. Her singing about reality becomes even more of a throwback when adjacent to the Tango in the Night drumlope and the synths that hang above like dawn fog.
[6]

Rebecca A. Gowns: Quite simply, a very lovely song. These kinds of songs almost work best as demos and outliers; a bit of musical stardust heard only by a small but loyal crowd. This one glimmers with a unique quality — not just the song itself, but specifically, the artist behind it, who has truly captured the combined malaise and joy of being alive in this specific space and time.
[9]

Edward Okulicz: Its big hooks hidden behind toughness, in turn hidden behind shyness suggest “REALiTi,” in demo form, might be Grimes’ very own “Cruel Summer.” That said, it’s a demo, and the surging beats of the original allow the elements room to breathe, and space to stand out from each other. The demo is a bit too fuzzed up and formless to really work for me. But my bug is someone else’s feature, and good on Grimes for giving everyone what they want.
[7]

Josh Winters: My favorite section of Disneyland when I first went as a 9-year-old was Tomorrowland, and after riding both Space Mountain and Star Tours (a motion simulaton ride based on the Star Wars film series), I began to imagine long car trips as their own simulated journeys. Our red minivan was the vessel that would carry my family, and the car windows were TV screens that projected the bustling midnight metropolis I envisioned through my eyes. It would both excite and soothe me as flickers of color flashed past us and bounced along our path under a twilit sky. I would recline back in my seat, sink deep into my headphones, and let the lights lead be back home. These days, I’m always the one driving myself wherever I need to go. It’s not like I mind it, but it’s not like I can just disengage from my literal surroundings and conjure up a new world of my make-believe. I had made plans to drive up to Oakland and spend some time with my sister the day “REALiTi” came out. To get up there from my weird little beach town, you have to traverse across a giant hill and through Silicon Valley. As the sunlight shone through the forest and into my view, I found myself able to tap into Grimes’ cerebral space, and hers mirrored mine. The colors, while flashing past at the same dizzying speed, had faded into a muted blur. The sky was no longer a multi-colored palette, but a deep blue. I could feel her shouts and whispers extending out for my grasp, only to disappear into the ether as I zoomed forward. It seemed as if she was searching for something. When I was younger, I thought I would be able to remember everything I had and would experience. At 23, I try to recover mental images of my early years as I settle into adulthood and notice my memory deteriorating at a snail’s pace. I listened to “REALiTi” on repeat the entire 2 1/2-hour duration of the round-way trip, and within the 24 hours of its release, it listened to it 95 times. I wanted to sink deeper and deeper into it.
[10]