November 9th, 2023 6:52pm
There’s no shortage of people attempting to write about how social media has impacted our lives, and a lot of the time it doesn’t fully work – too serious, too didactic, too overblown, too generally cringe, take your pick. Low Hummer make it work in this song by focusing on a central paradox – “I’ve never felt so connected, and alone” – and mostly just asking a lot of questions with no answers. Both singers sound bitter and confused and overwhelmed, and true to the conceit, like they’re singing at but not with each other.
Laron’s production on The Corner is mostly quite disorienting, often suggesting the audio equivalent of extreme depth of field by contrasting super filtered bass with pitched-up vocal samples that blare over Jadasea’s rapping. There are moments in the title song that feel like they’re deliberately designed to knock the listener off balance, but despite the perverse mixing choices, it still holds together as this mutated version of, say, early Kanye.
November 8th, 2023 2:56pm
I know nothing about the creation of this song but it would not surprise me if the way Freak Slug sings the phrase “sleepover mood” started as one of those things where you click into a phrase and start singing it to amuse yourself. It’s in the way it feels loose and informal, and how the soul in the delivery comes from a slight ironic remove that allows for some plausible deniability in case the other person isn’t in a sleepover mood. The song is very vulnerable but that little bit of protectiveness feels so real and human, and makes the boldness of singing “you’ll go from zero to in love” later in the song hit with the right combination of flirty confidence and bashful sweetness.
The original version of “Washed In You” from three years ago sounds unfinished relative to this new Wu-Lu remix that takes the very strong bones of the melody and structure but dials up the ambiance way up. I particularly like the metallic clattering percussion parts contrasted with guitar and keyboard parts that surface in the mix for brief moments, and the way Lex Amor’s weary and uncertain voice serves as a counterpoint to Andrew Ashong’s earnest soulfulness.
November 3rd, 2023 4:32pm
August Fanon’s track for “Cloth & Polish” signals sexiness and relaxation, but also a vague, nagging sense of danger and dread. I’m not sure whether or not the main keyboard and bass parts are sampled or composed by Fanon, but in either case the atmosphere is thick, the core melody is strong, and the laid back yet bugged out tone suits Goya Gumbani’s sleepy but conversational rap style. This is an exceptionally evocative piece of music – I can envision the setting very clearly in my mind, I get the sense this will likely be the case for you too.
November 1st, 2023 2:50pm
“Heaven” sounds like Bombay Bicycle Club and Damon Albarn set out to write their own take on the structural conceit of “A Day in the Life,” but with the aesthetics shifted to, roughly, the Beta Band era of UK indie music. The song is very elegantly paced and arranged as it moves towards a triumphant conclusion, but the thing I find most interesting is the disconnect between the lyrical perspectives of Albarn and Jack Steadman. While Steadman’s words support the vaguely grandiose quality of his parts of the song with him swearing “heaven is a risk I’ll take,” Albarn sings from the POV of a very religious gold miner. He sounds ragged and exhausted in these verses, suggesting the mindset of a man willing to break his body while guided by his faith to some great reward. Albarn’s character sounds genuine in his belief, but driven by base concerns, while Steadman seems earnest in his yearning but directionless in his pursuit.
October 30th, 2023 8:37pm
Fifteen years ago The Kills released a song called “What New York Used to Be,” a rather intense track I once described as sounding like the band trying to will a grimier, more dangerous version of the city back into existence. “103” is like that song in reverse, with Alison Mosshart sensing Los Angeles gradually becoming more inhospitable through climate change and looking around like “oh, yeah, this might actually be fun.” The Kills thrive on romance and drama, and what’s more dramatic than a city on fire? What’s more romantic than embracing beneath the “last palm tree”? Jamie Hince’s arrangement sounds sun bleached and hazy; the vibe would suggest sweat and lust regardless of what Mosshart sang. Sure, there’s impending doom on the horizon in this song, but for The Kills impending doom is on the menu in nearly everything they write. Leave it to them to take the worst vision of our future and make it sexy and exciting.
October 26th, 2023 8:27pm
The Rolling Stones have not set expectations for new material very high since the 90s, so “Sweet Sounds of Heaven” being as great as it is comes as something of a pleasant surprise for me. It’s a bluesy R&B ballad in the mode of “Loving Cup,” which helps as their rockers over the past few decades tend to be uncomfortably formulaic, like slightly off-the-mark simulations of themselves. But this actually sounds like the Stones at their best, and it feels a little loose and ragged despite the cosmetic “corrections” of modern studio technology. If you’re attracted to this band more for Mick Jagger’s quirked-up and distinctive version of soul singing more than Keith Richards’ riffing, this is right in the sweet spot. It’s the most present and engaged Jagger has sounded in quite some time, which I suppose makes a lot of sense as this song seems like it was written as a tribute to Charlie Watts.
Besides just nailing the vibe, the beauty of this song is in how eagerly the band swings for the fences and keep pushing it towards predictable but totally thrilling musical excesses. In other words, this is a song that is huge and campy enough in its sentimentality to justify the presence of Lady Gaga. Gaga seems thrilled to occupy the Merry Clayton role in this song – expressive to the max, but off to the side in the mix. I like how the implied distance between Gaga and Jagger makes it sound as though they’re singing at each other from across a great chasm, or from the realm of the living to the dead. Stevie Wonder’s presence on piano in the second half elevates the material further, his parts feel purely instinctive in a way that makes the rest of the song feel as though they might have just written it all in one very lucky improvisational jam.
October 24th, 2023 7:14pm
Nation of Language are essentially like if Kraftwerk had pivoted into early new wave around 1982, with their particular synthesizer aesthetics applied to a distinctly early 80s melodic and lyrical sensibility. It’s clear to me that the band’s songwriter and singer Ian Devaney has internalized all this old music to the point that it’s all natural impulses rather than a contrived concept or rote pastiche. It certainly helps that his songwriting craft is strong, enough so that the band’s best songs sound as though they’re on par with their inspirations. “Too Much, Enough” is particularly great in the way its keyboard parts imply a widescreen cinematic scale and in how Devaney’s handsome vocal tone lends warmth and drama to lyrics that seem coldly analytical on the page. There’s some incredible turns of phrase in the lyrics, though – I’m especially fond of the “swimming in sweat, television sweat” hook in the chorus.
October 23rd, 2023 8:45pm
The studio recording of “Feather” is good because the songwriting is strong, but the sound is a little too tight and rigid in the way so much modern pop music is – everything quantized to death, too much direct-input sound, no sense of space or texture. This live-in-studio recording of the song for a Spotify session is a major improvement that remedies that airless stiffness. The arrangement is pretty much exactly the same but the disco-ish groove has a better feel to it, there’s enough room sound to give the track some ambiance, and a little more looseness makes Sabrina Carpenter’s conversational tone and pithy punchlines land a lot better. Carpenter is very charming in this song, roasting an ex without getting too mean, placing her focus both lyrically and musically on the relief of being rid of someone rather than stewing on the ways they sucked.
October 13th, 2023 3:38pm
What makes a song relatable? There’s a lot of music now that people connect to quite deeply with very literal and direct lyrics, all expressing sentiments that people can point to and go “that’s me.” This makes sense, and pop music has always had this sort of utility. It clicks with me sometimes, but I find what really resonates for me the most is music that conveys a feeling that’s immediately understood but hard to explain, and with that I only really need a few lines that get under my skin.
“3D Country” – aka “4D Country” in its extended version – is one of those for me. Something about this particular blend of low-key grooviness, wounded soul, and wistful tone sounds like my life feels these days. It’s a little hard to follow the lyrical threads, which include lines about cowboys and soldiers in Rome, but the gist of it is clear enough as Cameron Winter belts out lines about needing to leave the life he’s known behind and lamenting how difficult it is to live life on your own. It’s a song about loneliness and loss and knowing you’ve made mistakes, but in the context of feeling stuck in some nowhere zone of your life. The guy in this song has made a decision to move on to his “second life,” but isn’t sure where his path is headed. There’s no resolution, just the understanding that he couldn’t keep going on as he was.
October 11th, 2023 11:36pm
“Landlines” opens the new Armand Hammer with a bold gambit – a rap track with no beat whatsoever, and Elucid and Billy Woods’ free floating verses providing the only discernible rhythm in what is otherwise a grooveless sound collage by JPEGMAFIA. And it works! It’s basically the opposite of a regular rap song, with the rappers creating a musical shape and the “music” such as it is responds to their rhythm and vocal texture. It’s also just very evocative, making these two men sound extremely disconnected and displaced, like they’re just spinning around in a void.
October 11th, 2023 1:48am
A few months ago I wrote this about Earl Sweatshirt’s style and I stand by it:
Earl Sweatshirt’s voice is deep, his cadence is precise, and he often writes in odd meters that disrupt expectations. He tends to use this as a distancing device – he frequently sounds cold, or dismissive, or fully misanthropic to the point of shutting everyone out. This is interesting, but what makes him compelling is the way he slips in little moments of vulnerability or warmth that break up the flat affect.
Sweatshirt is in fine form on “Mancala,” as is The Alchemist, who spins a whole track out a piano sample that signals “holding on to one’s dignity and humanity in the face of adversity.” Earl’s verse is meticulously composed but written to sound very raw, to the point that he maintains meter at one point by almost saying a word but then immediately doubling back to restart the sentence like he’s backspacing and editing in real time. Vince Staples’ verse is a sharp contrast with Earl, the temperature of his voice much closer to the warmth of the chopped up gospel chords, though not as warm as the actual gospel choir that enters the song at the very end.
October 6th, 2023 6:57pm
“Kiss Her Kiss Her” is emotionally fraught but musically fairly placid, a romantic song from the perspective of someone being left out of the action whether by choice or pragmatism. Kazu Makino’s lyrics seem to come from the perspective of someone who is urging someone – their partner, their crush, their friend? – to pursue another woman, even as she insists “it’s gonna end in tears.” But whose tears? Ambiguity serves this song well, particularly in giving the sense that Makino is portraying an unreliable narrator who’s clearly trying to stifle themselves and come across as magnanimous despite some strong negative feelings.
October 6th, 2023 1:28pm
There is perhaps no musician better equiped to articulate the particular mix of sorrow, frustration, and fatigue of learning about yet another mass shooting than Jeff Tweedy, a guy who always sings in a warm but weary tone. “Ten Dead” sounds like late period Beatles on two hours of sleep, with Tweedy singing in a shellshocked near-monotone in the verses as he relays what he’s heard on the radio: “Ten dead, ten dead, now there are ten dead.” You get no context, you get no sense of what’s going on. All you get here is an empty feeling in the gut that you try to fill with the disgust and sadness you know should be there but is hard to access through the numbness of repetition and the abstraction of the situation.
October 5th, 2023 3:54pm
“Marbles” is a song about feeling alienated by a language barrier and the difficulty of learning a new language after another is so embedded in your psyche and body that you never think about how it works. This is an interesting idea for a song, particularly one that’s built on a rather mechanical-sounding funk groove. Vanishing Twin conjurs a very spooky and surreal sound here – psychedelic and mysterious, very physical on the low end but cerebral to the point of feeling hopelessly lost in thought on the high end. It’s a very stoned sort of song, but the kind of stoned that has your mind drift out on logical tangents that sidestep regular thought processes.
October 3rd, 2023 8:20pm
The beauty of The Clientele’s seventh album I Am Not There Anymore is in how it sounds like a self-contained world made of some other person’s memories, so listening to it feels a bit like jumping into a stranger’s brain and trying to make sense of how they draw connections between feelings, personal iconography, and how they interpret their past. Alasdair Maclean doesn’t make this easy – he’s generous with melody and vivid detail, but avoids being literal or linear in favor of something more like dream logic. For me this approach feels a lot more personal and intimate than someone actually spelling it all out for you, in part because it feels more like connecting with how someone actually thinks and less like how you might build a story about your life.
A lot of the mysteries suggested in the lyrics come across as mysteries to himself as well – like, what is the garden eye? Why does it seem so ominous, but also like an image conjured by a child based on how they interpret something mundane in a garden? It feels significant in that “Garden Eye Mantra” shifts from gorgeous and breezy chamber pop with a dubby beat to something far more heavy and menacing when it comes up, like dark clouds rolling in midway through a clear day. The same part recurs near the end of the record at the conclusion of “I Dreamed of You, Maria,” but in a more relaxed form that suggests some kind of resolution. I take it as a personal mythology or superstition from childhood, first presented in the emotional reality of a kid and then later on as a fading memory of something long outgrown.
September 28th, 2023 6:05pm
If there is a “Heaven” I suppose everything there would sound like it’s in “Dilla time,” as it does in this song. The exceptionally loose groove suits Cleo Sol’s voice rather well, with more than enough space for her to go low-key and nuanced in her phrasing and have you hanging on every syllable she sings. I’m sure Sol and Inflo put a lot of thought and labor into making this song sound totally off-the-cuff, like they just improvised their way into this pure expression of romantic gratitude. The song is all feel – the comfy warmth of the groove, the brightly toned and perfectly understated organ and guitar lines, Sol singing like her heart is overwhelmed by totally undiluted love.
September 26th, 2023 8:01pm
Sometimes the more “normal” Animal Collective gets the more their essential eccentricity comes through. “Gem and I” feels somewhat familiar with its cocktail vibe and somewhat kitschy vocal harmonies but the distinctive tics and jumbled reference points of the AnCo players push it firmly into oddball territory. Panda Bear shines the brightest on this one – he’s the one laying down the beat and giving the song an odd sort of swing, and he’s the lead vocalist carrying one of the best melodies the band has written for a while. The lyrics seem to be about Animal Collective as a unit, both in terms of the pleasure of playing together and the challenge of finding new things to say and do while working with the same guys. “Another tip to the golden years,” he sings, more than two decades into this collaboration. “We’re probably in it.”
September 25th, 2023 7:21pm
The first several times I heard “I Don’t Like My Mind” I didn’t pay very close attention to the lyrics and just took in the sound of it, which feels essentially like Mitski doing her own variation of Angel Olsen in reverb-heavy country ballad mode. The mix is incredible – her voice loud and clear, the accompaniment slightly blurred into abstraction. I was so taken by the emotion of it all that I just did not notice that the chorus is about eating an entire cake alone. This is funny and unexpected, but also a level of specificity that makes her lyrics about struggling with impulse control and general misery feel a lot more grounded and real. It’s a punchline at her own expense, but also, like, a genuinely concerning detail that suggests some things a lot darker than she’s willing to spell out in the song.
“Belleville,” like the rest of Laurel Halo’s excellent new record Atlas, sounds like a very specific kind of nowhere. It’s mostly a piano instrumental but the piano part sounds semi-improvised, as though someone was passing through a house, spotted a piano, and sat down to play for a few minutes. But this is really more of an ambient track so you hear the room as much as the music, making it sort of like an installation art piece that you can only hear and infer what else is in that space. There’s vague traces of violin, non-musical sounds made by the body as the instrument is played, some hint of weather outside. A minute and a half in there’s a sudden burst of layered vocals that brightens the sound considerably and adds implied depth as it sounds like it’s in “focus” while everything before it and around it is considerably hazier.
September 15th, 2023 4:49pm
Laufey is at the center of an interesting musical venn diagram – a songwriter and performer with roots in classical who mainly writes jazz vocal song with the lyrical POV of a contemporary indie singer-songwriter. “California and Me” is a song at the dead center of that diagram, a jazz ballad with old Hollywood orchestration and a vocal that laments the end of a situationship with great sadness but also a little humor in the more clever lines. I admire the elegance of her craft, she’s so precise and economical and she tugs on a listener’s heartstrings in a way that’s very gentle but highly effective. “California and Me” is calibrated to make you feel the exact flavor of loneliness she’s feeling, but it’s nuanced enough to get that as sad as she is about feeling left alone part of her feels optimistic about whatever may come her way in the wake of this. Close a door, open a window…
September 13th, 2023 8:57pm
The characters populating the lyrics of Electric Six songs are mostly creeps, rubes, charlatans, and losers. In this respect they’re like a Steely Dan for the 21st century, but with the noble and romantic loser archetype replaced by a more pathetic and deeply uncool version. “Born to Be Ridiculed” is from the POV of one of those guys, a hapless fool who’s come to realize they can’t avoid putting themselves in situations that bring them humiliation and/or the disdain of strangers. But as far as E6 characters go, this guy isn’t that bad and the appeal of the song is how the rockabilly energy of the music and Dick Valentine’s vocal performance make him seem very accepting of his fate. He sounds like he’s owning it. He sounds like he’s almost unafraid.
