Fluxblog
September 11th, 2018 3:59pm

Teen Wolf Teen


Anchorsong “Testimony”

Masaaki Yoshida’s compositions have a neat, orderly structure – if they were physical forms, it’d be a lot of balance and symmetry. Clean lines and smooth surfaces. Not overly rigid and airless, per se, but precise and deliberate. “Testimony” is built upon busy rhythms but still somehow feels quite still and serene. It sounds like calmly moving through a crowded space with a clear mind, taking in the world around you but at a slight intellectual and emotional remove. As the song moves towards its conclusion, the sound gets less and less dense, adding to the feeling of peacefulness and calm.

Buy it from Bandcamp.



September 10th, 2018 12:22am

A Problem With The Modern World


Spiritualized “The Morning After”

I am not sure how much lyrical continuity Jason Pierce intends to have in his music, but it’s not much of a leap to think that the Jane in “The Morning After” is the same Jane he was addressing in “Hey Jane” on the previous Spiritualized album from 2012. Whereas “Hey Jane” was largely about the singer’s perception of her and her influence on him, “The Morning After” is more of a character study in the style of Lou Reed’s “____ Says” songs. Here we learn that Jane’s from a difficult but affluent family, that she’s unlucky in love, and she’s in terrible health. There’s a lot of affection in the way Pierce writes about Jane, but also a bit of distance – it’s a little like how you might talk about an ex you still have some feelings for, or a once-close friend you’ve fallen out of touch with.

“The Morning After” is a rocker, and while the arrangement has the usual sort of Spiritualized density of instrumentation, there’s a relative lightness to it that stands apart from Pierce’s usual work. A lot of that comes from a groovy lead guitar part that gives the track a stoned ‘60s vibe, but it’s also in the way the music seems to unravel around the time the horns start getting wild and skronky in the final couple minutes. You get a sense of a life falling apart, but it doesn’t sound bleak or heavy. It’s more like a celebration that gets out of hand.

Buy it from Amazon.



September 7th, 2018 1:37am

Fun At The Mind Museum


The Cars “Candy-O”

God, that guitar sounds so lascivious! “Candy-O” radiates a very particular sort of lust energy, a barely-restrained horniness that’s spiked with neurotic twitchiness and a bit of suppressed anger. Ric Ocasek’s lyrics further complicate the tone, alternating between worshipful desire for a girl named Candy and verses that imply a vague but sinister situation. Benjamin Orr sings everything with a menacing tone – he sounds cold and calculating, and slightly contemptuous of this woman he’s objectifying. I don’t doubt the guy in this song’s affection for this girl, but it is creepy to hear a love song that comes off as ruthless and unyielding.

Buy it from Amazon.

ZZ Top “Got Me Under Pressure”

The sound and aesthetic of “Candy-O” was adapted – intentionally or not, I’m not sure – by ZZ Top a few years after the song came out on their extraordinarily popular album Eliminator. The ZZ Top guys kept the extreme horny vibes but replaced Ocasek and Orr’s dark urges with their usual smirking bawdiness. Like “Candy O,” “Got Me Under Pressure” is about some cool chick, but Billy Gibbons puts a lot more effort into letting the listener know details about what turns out to be an extremely specific woman. Like, for example: “She don’t like other women / she likes whips and chains / she likes cocaine / and filppin’ out with Great Danes.” An intriguing lady! Sure, he’s thinking about breaking up with her, but you really get a sense of why he’s so worked up about her.

Buy it from Amazon.



September 6th, 2018 1:43am

The Sea Of Darkness Forms


King Krule “Czech One”

Archy Marshall makes loneliness and despair seem so romantic and sexy. It’s almost irresponsible, really. “Czech One” is noir in tone, but there isn’t much drama in it. It’s an expression of emotional and physical stasis: He’s sitting there in a bar, trying to write. He’s sitting there in a bar, talking to a girl he can’t bear to look in the eye. He’s sitting there in a bar, lost in thought. He’s sitting there in a bar, trying to kill his feelings. He’s sitting there in a bar, utterly failing to kill his feelings.

He’s stuck and miserable, but he makes it sound like an aspirational and poetic form of sadness. The main keyboard motif is gentle and comforting, but everything else is either pure atmosphere or an intriguing flourish just passing through the mix. The feeling of it seems to loop, but the track never sounds steady or stable. It always sounds like something is just about to happen, but nothing comes. At the end of the song, it sounds like he just nods off. Even that sounds romantic.

Buy it from Amazon.



September 5th, 2018 1:00am

Now Your Eyes Don’t Meet Mine


Richard & Linda Thompson “Don’t Renege On Our Love”

Richard Thompson is quick to point out that Shoot Out the Lights, his final album with his ex-wife Linda, was not written to be about the dissolution of their marriage. They didn’t actually split up until around the time the record came out in 1982, and these songs date back to 1980. But that only makes the record seem more sad, since they come from early on in the process of breaking up. They’re about the littles cracks and strains that gradually break a relationship and the way love can slowly drain from your heart. It’s the agony of knowing what’s coming but trying to somehow avoid it.

Thompson wants to hold on in “Don’t Renege On Our Love.” He sings the song in a tone that’s both gallant and pleading; he just can’t stand the thought of breaking off a commitment when he’s put so much of himself into it. He sounds so betrayed, but willing to bargain and blame himself if it will buy him just a bit more time. His focus and determination is emphasized by the drums, which gallop under his voice and guitar like a horse he’s riding into battle. He knows how this is going to go down, and he’s ready to go down fighting. He can’t give up, he’s just too hung up on the symbolism of it all. And there’s the real fear: It’s not being alone, it’s not losing her. It’s the dread of it all being meaningless.

Buy it from Amazon.



September 4th, 2018 1:13am

Beauty Can Be Sad


Juliana Hatfield “Universal Heart-Beat”

“Universal Heart-Beat” has an extremely bright and perky sound, like if music could somehow be made out of Starbursts and Skittles. The overwhelming sweetness of the sound barely masks the bitterness of the lyrics, in which Juliana Hatfield argues that love is entirely inseparable from pain. “A heart that hurts is a heart that works!” she sings cheerfully in the chorus, which feels like early ’80s aerobics pop filtered through crunchy mid-’90s alt-rock chords. It all sounds very fun, and that’s half her point: The high highs and the low lows are an emotional rollercoaster ride, and if you get over your anxiety and just go along with it, it’s a total rush. The bad parts don’t even seem so bad in retrospect – she comes across as rather nostalgic when she recalls the more humbling and pathetic moments. Better than feeling numb, right? That’s just boring.

Buy it from Amazon.



September 3rd, 2018 1:12am

Her Sadness Never Lifted


PJ Harvey “My Beautiful Leah”

Polly Jean Harvey wrote “My Beautiful Leah” in the depths of depression and heartache, in the wake of breaking up with Nick Cave over 20 years ago. It’s a horror film in two minutes of sound; a vivid sketch of a broken and miserable woman who… well, Polly never really says. But the implication is grim – it seems that she has disappeared for months. A suicide, probably. Or maybe it’s more of a Looking for Mr. Goodbar scenario? Either way, it’s rather bleak.

The lyrics are about Leah, but she is strictly a figure being observed from afar. She’s lonely and isolated. Everyone notices her misery but keeps a distance – maybe she’s walled herself off so she seems unapproachable, or perhaps everyone is afraid her darkness is contagious. Her despair poisons her life and withers her body. It’s easy to see how this could be a despondent Harvey imagining her own future.

Harvey’s arrangement for this song is truly upsetting. The bass is so deep and clipped that it seems designed to make you feel physically ill – a low rumbling tone that evokes and provokes nausea. It sounds as if it’s scraping slowly at the edges of the song while the beat seems to limp along in constant dull pain. The high end of the composition is just as unnerving as the low parts – organ drones signal slasher film paranoia, and a repetitive bashing of a cymbal suggests sudden violence. When the music cuts out abruptly at the end, it comes as a relief.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 31st, 2018 11:26am

The Movement You Need Is On Your Shoulder


The Beatles “Hey Jude”

Everyone thinks “Hey Jude” is for them, because it is. Paul McCartney’s wisdom is specific but universal: “Take a sad song and make it better.” “It’s a fool who plays it cool.” “You have found her, now go and get her.” “Remember to let her into your heart.” Love is different for everyone, but it’s always the same – you don’t get anywhere without opening up, you can’t get close without getting vulnerable. Paul wants you to be happy. That is an essential Paul quality: He truly wants everyone to love and be loved. “Hey Jude” is Paul telling you that if you follow your best intentions and open up and give honest and unselfish love, you will do just fine. “Hey Jude” is his way of saying “you’ve got this, buddy” to people he actually knew – Julian Lennon, John Lennon, himself – and to the entire world, forever and ever.

I get choked up thinking about the kindness of this song. It is a pure expression of friendship and empathy, Paul has no ulterior motives or agenda other than hoping that the listener heeds his words and finds the love they want so much, or solace in a time of sorrow. The music has a touch of melancholy to it, but warms up incrementally until it bursts into that “na na na” extended outro and it’s like Paul is trying to have a group hug with everyone on the planet. That shift in scale is a shift in perspective – from an intimate conversation to a sort of global awareness. The music illustrates Paul’s meaning in the lyrics: When our hearts are closed off, our lives are small and lonely. When we open up, the world is suddenly bigger and brighter. This is Paul showing you how much better better better better BETTER BETTER life can be.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 30th, 2018 10:35pm

Gluten-Free For The Summer


Miss World “Carb Yr Enthusiasm”

Natalie Chahal’s Miss World project is a mash up of Instagram aesthetics, ’90s references, and free-wheeling garage rock. Her lyrics and themes mostly satirize the more vapid aspects of social media and media aimed at women, but she’s doing it from a position of ambivalence – she clearly thinks a lot of this is very fun, but can’t help but smirk at the Kardashians and the way romance and betrayal can exist in the context of, say, Instagram stories. “Carb Yr Enthusiasm” is an aggressive surf rock tune about dieting and “beach bodies,” and it’s so heavy on irony that it almost comes around to not sounding ironic at all. Chahal’s voice is ideal for bitter punk sarcasm – there’s a nasty pinched quality to her delivery that’s a little bit Johnny Rotten and a lot “extremely mean popular girl in a teen drama.” She makes the song work in three ways: it’s a fun rock song, a funny joke, and a pointed critique. Not an easy balance to pull off!

Buy it from Amazon.



August 30th, 2018 2:46am

The Next Artery


Interpol “If You Really Love Nothing”

Interpol is the kind of band that always sorta sounds the same if you’re not paying much attention, but are nevertheless always making new formal decisions within the context of their clearly defined aesthetic. In the case of “If You Really Love Nothing,” it’s the introduction of a shuffle beat. The swing of the rhythm makes the more familiar elements of their sound feel a bit more fresh, it’s like rearranging the furniture of their sound a bit to give the music a more comfortable sense of feng shui. The usual claustrophobic tone is gone, but the weird bug-eyed tension remains. Paul Banks’ vocal sounds as tightly wound and neurotic as ever, and he seems to be addressing someone – a woman? an audience? the United States? – with a perplexed sort of disgust. He sounds like someone who has just given up hope for recovering a relationship with someone, and is now attempting to justify himself. What a bitter vibe for an unusually light and groovy song for them.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 26th, 2018 11:32pm

Will This Deja Vu Never End


Spice Girls “Say You’ll Be There”

The Spice Girls spent the majority of their debut album singing songs about negotiating the terms of relationships and assertively stating what they did and did not want out of love. It’s remarkably mature stuff in retrospect – music for teens about setting boundaries, asking for what you need, emphasizing consent, and expecting emotional reciprocity. “Say You’ll Be There,” their best single, is about attempting to gracefully transition from friendship to romance. The lyrics are plain and direct, but respectful of the audience’s intelligence. You can certainly nitpick about whether or not their commodified “girl power” was Good Feminism, but I think in terms of presenting pop songs about love, they were Good Role Models. If only we could all be as forthright and sensible about relationships as the Spice Girls were in the mid 90s.

“Say You’ll Be There” is the sort of pop song that sounds relatively normal until you pay attention and notice it’s actually a little odd. The melodies are rooted in the glossy UK pop of its time, but its groove is heavily indebted to Dr. Dre and P-Funk. There’s a harmonica solo that sounds like someone doing a pretty good job of mimicking Stevie Wonder in the ’70s, and while it’s a major highlight of the song, it’s hard to fathom how it ended up in the arrangement. The pre-chorus has an elegant feel to it, but it slams into a proper chorus that sounds like it was deliberately designed so large groups of drunk women would eventually sing it together at bars.

There’s a bit of glittery disco glamour in the mix, but it’s nearly neutralized by how much the Spice Girls sound like a bunch of silly kids rather than the sort of bold, sassy women who fronted songs in the disco era. Those songs were aspirational, but the Spice Girls’ funk is highly accessible. Everyone’s invited to dance at their club, and they want you to sing along. And maybe when you sing along, you might just internalize some good ideas about love.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 23rd, 2018 9:47pm

Paint It Over


Mitski “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?”

Mitski’s voice is a stumbling block for me. Her compositions, especially on her new record Be the Cowboy, are bold and expressive, and her lyrics are sharp and emotional. Her voice, however, is pleasant but oddly lacking in affect. She undersells every line in a way that makes it hard for me to tell whether she’s being deadpan or emotionally reserved. I’m inclined to believe “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?” is more the former, and we’re meant to take find her indecisive and low-key selfish lyrics to be darkly humorous, probably at her own expense. Her composition, particularly the dramatic keyboard hook and lead guitar parts, carry the feeling of the song and indicate emotional stakes far greater than her vocal would imply. It’s certainly interesting to me to contrast that bombast with a vocal approach that presents a rather distant and cerebral take on raw feelings, but the result is a song I admire far more than I connect with it.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 23rd, 2018 12:17pm

How’s Life?


Ariana Grande “Sweetener”

Pop albums take time to make, while pop star relationships tend to burn bright and fast. As a result, it’s easy to approach Ariana Grande’s new album Sweetener as a collection of songs about her intense romance with the comedian Pete Davidson. (There is, of course, a song on the record called “Pete Davidson.”) But many of these songs have been in the works for some time, and “Sweetener” in particular apparently dates back to 2016 when Grande was still involved with Mac Miller. (A lyrical tip-off is the entire verse about enjoying getting head from this lover, and Miller is a guy who proudly rapped “I just eat pussy, other people need food” in his album-length tribute to Grande, The Divine Feminine.)

Fun fact, right? Cool trivia. But I think this context is valuable in understanding where Grande is coming from as a person and as an artist. This is a woman who had her heart set on singing songs that conveyed a joyful, lustful love, regardless of what relationship she was in. She’s chasing a feeling, and trying to capture it in sound, and she absolutely nails it when she works with Pharrell Williams. Williams, one of the great geniuses of modern pop R&B, has an instinctive understanding of what chords and melodies flatter Grande’s voice and persona that most of her other collaborators have lacked. His chord structures float and sparkle around her voice, which is at once bold and sweetly delicate, like Mariah Carey in her youth. The songs sound light and dreamy, like she’s just levitating in a haze of infatuation.

This is the state of mind she wants to be in, like, all the time. Blissful, horny, and removed from stress and the horrors of the world. And whomst among us does not want this? Look at this gif of Ariana Grande and Pete Davidson from earlier this week. Who doesn’t want to feel like Ariana in this moment? Who doesn’t want to have someone look at them the way she looks at Davidson? This is an ideal state!

The idea driving all of this – her life, her songs – is that this is a choice. You have to want it, to chase it, to bring it into your life and cherish it. This is a woman who recently endured a horrific trauma, and made a decision to throw herself into love. She made a record about love rather than the hate and murder and cruelty she witnessed firsthand. She’s singing about her experience, but offering the best advice she can give to anyone else struggling: Find love, embrace love, hold on to it. You need that sweetener.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 22nd, 2018 12:10pm

I Have But One Concern


Brandy “Sittin’ Up In My Room”

Babyface was in his mid 30s when he wrote “Sittin’ Up In My Room.” It’s vaguely surprising to learn that he wrote it entirely on his own because the vibe and sentiment of the song is so purely “teenage girl” – I’ve always felt a little like I’m trespassing in some girl’s room and reading her diary when I hear it. But I suppose it doesn’t take all that much imagination to picture a girl sitting in her room mooning over a crush, and to channel her thoughts and feelings. Especially when the truth is the feeling of the song is fairly universal and it’s just the setting that is specific. A crush is essentially the same at any age.

I love the little tells in the lyrics that show this song was in fact written by a guy in his mid 30s. “I must confess” is a pretty standard line, but here it’s built out of a legal conceit. There’s talk of “investing” in her happiness. The language gets a little formal in cute ways – “I have but one concern, how can I get with you?” Brandy makes it all sound so light and breezy, and the casual funkiness of the track goes down so smoothly that I never noticed any of this for 20 years. She exudes warmth and sweetness in this song, the crush is so pure and good-hearted. It’s not a problem aside from not knowing how it will turn out, and that concern taking over her mind. It’s stressful and emotionally taxing, but it’s fun to have this in your head. It opens you up to happy possibilities! It feels exciting! She was probably very bored while sitting up in her room before this crush came along.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 19th, 2018 11:34pm

The Best Wishes On Both Ends Extended


The New Pornographers “We End Up Together”

“We End Up Together” came out eight years ago, and ever since I periodically come back to it to obsess over the implication of the title phrase. In the context of the music, it’s played like this triumph of inevitability, a celebration of abandoning free will. But I know enough that this song is in some way about Carl Newman and his wife, so I think it’s meant to be sort of tender? “We end up together” surely would come across as unambiguously romantic in other contexts, but as dramatic as this song gets it never conveys that sort of feeling. It’s mostly pensive and melancholy until the bombast kicks in, and even that part feels a bit cold and distant. The chorus is an expression of distracted confusion: “You looked like you were saying something.” This song is very lost in its head.

This isn’t a song about a relationship so much as it’s about everything that leads up to the relationship – generations of family history, social and cultural context, the damage of living and loving and searching until you finally find someone to settle down with. “We End Up Together” seems to come from the perspective of the moment just after the deal is sealed and the story finally becomes clear. All of this, everything, was leading to this thing that now seems, in retrospect, to be destiny: We end up together.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 18th, 2018 7:11pm

Fate Up Against Your Will


Echo and the Bunnymen “The Killing Moon”

I have spent a lot of time trying to parse who “me,” “you,” & “him” are in “The Killing Moon.” Is this a love triangle? A cuck fantasy? A love song about two men? Three men? Is the singer always a passive character, or does he switch perspective when active – another self that he’s alienated from? Is “him”…God? Is “him”…death?

Ian McCulloch deliberately wrote “The Killing Moon” to be ambiguous. That’s a lot of why it’s so powerful and timeless – a lot of songs invite you to make it your own with interpretation, but McCulloch’s lyrics are so vivid and intense that they seem to be telling you something very important that you must decode. It’s like he’s offering a key to something inside of you: What are you afraid of? What turns you on? Who do you want? Who do you want, but resist? What do you feel is unavoidable?

“The Killing Moon” is a song about desire and inevitability, and how desire can create a situation that is more or less inevitable, and how desire can also resist inevitability. There is romance in either scenario. The lust in this song is so strong – it’s repressed to a large extent, but the gothic romance atmosphere of the music gives it away. It’s sexy, but incredibly gloomy and bleak in tone. McCulloch is singing about a maddening desire, something so mind-bending that every kiss is cosmic in scale. He sings it all with a weary desperation.

So, is their love the inevitable thing, predetermined by fate? Or does his lust invariably lead to madness or humiliation? Is heartbreak inescapable? Is he doomed to never consummate this love? All of that and more seems plausible to me. Anything is possible in “The Killing Moon,” because it is stuck indefinitely in the moment before resolution. Something feels destined, but you don’t know what it is. You hope for the best, you fear the worst. You wait for the moment, and then you let go of your pride and submit to it. You give yourself to it.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 16th, 2018 11:39am

Tender Love And Sweet Attention


Jake Shears “Big Bushy Mustache”

First off, I am just so glad to have this guy back. I miss the Scissor Sisters very much, but some solo Jake Shears will do for now – especially since it all just sounds like Scissor Sisters anyway. There’s some magic missing without Baby Daddy and Ana Matronic, but Shears’ songwriting is still distinctive sharp.

“Big Bushy Mustache” is a funky fantasy about masculinity that’s based in a desire to emulate a certain kind of ’70s straight man. It’s a nostalgic song about a type of guy you don’t really see anymore – strong and bold and flashy, right on the edge of campy but not quite. If you see this dude today he’s probably queer, and emulating the vibe as Shears is in this song (and his current look.) This is probably all tied up in very contentious “masc” politics in the gay community, but from my own boring straight man perspective, this resonates as an ideal of manliness that’s rugged and confident but relatively light on toxic masculinity. And the world surely needs more good examples of being unambiguously masculine without rejecting style and sexiness and fun, or being an angry creep about everything.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 15th, 2018 11:31am

Get Lost On Purpose


Bad Bad Hats “Makes Me Nervous”

“Makes Me Nervous” is an airy, atmospheric pop song that conveys a very subtle anxiety in the way the guitar chords sound so crisp, taut, and rigid. It’s the uptight feeling hidden beneath the smiling facade, and the grasp on to familiarity in the face of the unknown. Kerry Alexander’s voice is ideal for this sort of low-key tension – she always sounds reasonable and calm, but her phrasing always reveals an easily wounded and sensitive soul. Her lyrics for this song match the tone perfectly, with her character getting paranoid about her relationship and freaking out a bit when she can’t get in touch with her partner. There doesn’t seem to be anything actually going wrong, but she’s so invested and obsessed that every little thing seems like it could be a harbinger of doom. And it all comes down to the Sisyphean frustration of everyone who’s ever been insecure in love: “I still want to be whatever you need.” If only!

Buy it from Bandcamp.



August 14th, 2018 2:27am

Get Out My Hay


Doja Cat “Mooo!”

I suppose “Mooo!” qualifies as a novelty song, but I ask you: Where exactly is the line separating a “comedy song” from a regular song that happens to be funny? I’m inclined to say “Mooo!” is in the latter category – its silliness is more surreal than jokey, and there is a jazzy delicacy to the arrangement that is lovely and highly listenable in and of itself. Doja Cat is a delight on the mic, gleefully extending her cow metaphor to nearly a breaking point, and delivering an interpolation of Kelis’ “Milkshake” near the end of the song that’s joyful and inspired. The song is definitely funny, but when it comes down to it, “bitch imma cow, bitch imma cow” isn’t much weirder or off-kilter than a lot of other things going on in hip-hop lately. It’s just whimsical and cute in a way that’s a bit unexpected.

Buy it from Amazon.



August 12th, 2018 2:54pm

I Can Be Without You


Tirzah “Do You Know”

Mica Levi’s arrangement for “Do You Know” makes Tirzah sound as if she’s pacing circles in a damp basement in her mind, trapped indefinitely in a loop of thoughts about a relationship that has crumbled. Levi’s production centers her voice in the mix so fully and clearly that it sounds almost too intimate, so it feels less like hearing a song, and more like accidental telepathy. Or, at least, it’s like overhearing half a phone conversation you really should not be eavesdropping on but you can’t bring yourself to tune out. Tirzah’s lyrics are specific enough to give you a clear sense of the troubles between her and this other person, but just vague enough that you’re still piecing together the bits that are left unsaid.

Buy it from Amazon.




©2008 Fluxblog
Site by Ryan Catbird