Linebug’s Video for “White Nights” Displays a Journey Out of the Stasis of Personal Darkness Into the Brightness of Living

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Linebug, image courtesy the artists

With 2,200 hand-drawn frames, created by digital artist Christian Gundtoft, the video for Linebug’s “White Nights” captures the sense of utter emotional isolation in the depths of depression. The pulsing omnichord and piano progression counts out the meditative passage of time in which you feel trapped in your own head, helpless. The figure cast in white in bed surrounded by black is so evocative of being in the seemingly perpetual grey zone of emotional stasis. But Line Bøgh’s breathy vocals serve as a sort of guiding light out of that realm singing about how Spring and its greater sunlight chases away some of the gloom of seasonal depression and augments the will to pull oneself out of one’s prolonged downstate generally. The video mirrors the heightened mood of the song when the subject of of the video dons the read dress and exits the dark room into a field of light. Rather than being trapped by the dark, the possibility of stepping into a world of movement and freedom seems possible with some patience and holding on to what faith that things can be different that may still linger deep within during those prolonged periods of psychic funk. Watch the video for “White Nights” on YouTube and follow Linebug at the links below. Recently Linebug toured using the video art as a projection for the concert so if you have a chance to catch the Danish artist live, you may get to witness the full multimedia presentation.

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Noukko Ponders the Deeper Meaning and Intersection of Life and Creative Expression on “The Soup”

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Noukko “The Soup” cover (cropped)

From the video for “The Soup” one might get the impression that Noukko does everything on the song including the video. And she nearly did excepting Ronald Kool shooting the video and Michel van Schie mastering the track. You see Noukko play all the instruments, sing and act. It reflects the creative integration of a song pondering the nature of existence while juggling the demands of life and our personal drives and curiosity about how it all fits together and if what we’re doing has any significance and importance beyond our immediate social and cultural context. The overarching theme of the song informs the songwriting and the sonic details as the percussion is more expressive than conventional, the distorted guitar lead wouldn’t be out of place in some 90s alternative rock song but here waxes contemplative, the cadence and lilt of the vocals suggest some Kate Bush influence without being imitative merely tapping into some of the existential queries that Bush delved into as well, the minimal keyboard and piano work places an upward melodic structure that gives the song an elevated quality. Yet all these idiosyncratic elements give what might otherwise be simply a solid pop song a more creatively ambitious cast without hitting you over the head with its weightiness. Watch the video for “The Soup” on YouTube and follow Noukko and Ronald Kool at the links below.

noukko.com
soundcloud.com/user-600686401
open.spotify.com/artist/1tSC2akd29inEOKNBcfHun
youtube.com/user/MEGAKOOLmusic/videos

yuh Evokes a Misty-Eyed and Hopeful Morning After on “Without a Trace”

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yuh, “Without a Trace” cover (cropped)

Intertwining, bright, distorted synth swells and impressionistic guitar ring in “Without a Trace” by yuh. When the vocals come in they sit in the mix like another instrument, processed to phase slightly contemplating the morning after. But rather than having all that central a role in the song the words muse wistfully about what happened as trickles of the new day, and new possibilities, come in and sweep away any attempt at imposing greater than warranted significance or misplaced regrets, rather, focusing on impressions and what made life feel a little more magical for some fleeting moments. The splash of synth, the repeating guitar figure and twinkling percussive sounds like ethereal windchimes take us out of that reverie and into emotional daylight. Listen to “Without a Trace” on Soundcloud and follow yuh there as well (linked below).

soundcloud.com/yuhfavoriteband

Stephen Caulfield Captures the Sense of Mystery and Wonder at Seeing the Lights of a Ship Passing in the Dark On “A Light In the Sea at Night”

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Stephen Caulfield, photo courtesy the artist

There is something mysterious and tranquil about seeing the lights of a ship on a large body of water at night as it passes either in the distance or nearby. Whether a passenger ship or a ship of a different purpose whose navigation lights alert you to their presence in the darkness. Stephen Caulfield gives voice to that stirring of the imagination on his song “A Light In the Sea at Night.” Slow pulsing drones cross over each other and distort at that intersection of tone to embody the break in the darkness from the ship lights, the fluidity of the motion and in the background a hint of sound like the ship’s radio providing essential data or a program played to have something human with the crew at the helm through the night when they’ve all talked about each other’s lives into oblivion and it’s too late to have anything interesting to say. Caulfield captures both the way sight of the ships is striking and sets the mind to wonder where the ship might be going or coming from and who would be aboard at that hour as well as the comfort in the meditative isolation from the everyday world that must exist if you’re on the crew, the movement, the constant sound of machines operating, the lap of the water on the hull and the sounds one chooses to bring aboard to maintain that connection to a world outside such a hermetic setting. Listen to “A Light In the Sea at Night” on Spotify and follow Stephen Caulfield at the links provided.

music.apple.com/gb/artist/stephen-caulfield/373965991
soundcloud.com/stephencaulfield
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youtube.com/channel/UCx91H6ozB4oFSfQHJfjhyXQ
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“Drifting” by The Nomadic is a Song of Romantic Yearning and Reconciliation

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The Nomadic “Drifting” cover (cropped)

In the video for “Drifting” by The Nomad, the singer is seen playing both the acoustic guitar and the semi-hollow Rickenbacker electric interspersed with scenes from the life of a young woman and the moments when their paths cross. The song begins with a story of someone who is melancholic about a person who seems to pass in and out of their life even though there’s clearly some kind of connection. The melody and the lyrics express a contemplative yearning. It embodies the adage of if you love someone set them free. By the end of the song that drifting leads the two people together but it’s something that happens organically and without anyone’s desperation as the catalyst. The spare guitar melody and the way it rings out with acoustic and electric complementing each other with elegant interplay is reminiscent of U2 and those lines that seem to reach to the horizon. There is a change up of sound and dynamics mid-song that takes it out of the languid mode but in the end it works because it helps to establish the heightened mood in the second half of the song that signals a blissful reconciliation. Watch the video for “Drifting” on YouTube.

Jakob Leventhal Takes a Step Into Emotional Memory Lane on “Back Again So Soon”

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Jakob Leventhal “Back Again So Soon” cover (cropped)

Jakob Leventhal’s “Back Again So Soon” unfolds with a lingering guitar line and an expansive rhythm that sets a contemplative pace accented by melodic bass and impressionistic percussion. Leventhal sounds like he’s taking a deep, slow motion dive into melancholic, emotional drift. A bittersweet mood permeates the song like he’s taking a walk through an old house where he made so many memories that have haunted him deep but come to him so vividly when in a familiar environment and the way those can trigger memories you buried or left far behind in the living of your life. The lyrics sound like a one sided conversation, an observational confessional, between the author and his life and how he has lived it. Though the song works on its own, it is part of a larger record and it ends on a note that makes you want to hear more of what these reflective words might be about and the personal exploration they suggest is ahead. Listen to “Back Again So Soon” on Spotify and follow Leventhal at the links provided.

jakobleventhal.com
instagram.com/jakobleventhal

Remington super 60 Capture the Melancholy of Romantic Ambivalence on “I Don’t Wanna Wait”

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Remington super 60 New EP cover (cropped)

The luminous bell tones that carry the main melody of Remington super 60’s “I Don’t Wanna Wait” conveys the sense of ambivalence that runs through the lyrics. The vocalist intones wistfully about how she wanted things to be differently with someone but reconciling herself to the fact that she doesn’t really know what this person is about or their intentions and ponders if waiting to have a more solid emotional grasp of this person is worth the wait or if said person is someone who it would be foolish to think will come around and be the kind of person who gives one a sense of solidity of identity and whether or not the feelings of genuine affection and regard are returned. The elegance of the composition is striking and while the aforementioned electronic bell sounds and the resonant vocals catch one’s attention immediately, the incidental sounds that round out the melody give the song a strong sense of emotional impact by giving the resigned melancholy of the foreground music a grounding in something more vividly textural even as it rests on the edges of the song. Listen to “I Don’t Wanna Wait,” which appeared on the group’s January 2020 release, the simply titled New EP, on Soundcloud and follow the Norwegian group at the links below.

remingtonsuper60.com
open.spotify.com/artist/2hQlLDO5kKSz9v5e4ETpZg
facebook.com/remingtonsuper60

“Switch Off The Light” is a Spooky Yet Sweet Unconventional Love Song From Synth Pop Group Fragile Gods

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Fragile Gods “Switch Off The Light” cover (cropped)

Fragile Gods tap into a lo-fi 80s synth pop sound for its single “Switch Off The Light.” The processed male vocals sound like something channeled from AM radio floating over spare electronic percussion and a bouncing, distorted synth line accented by playful tones and counter melody on another synth. Even when joined by female vocals, the whole song has the quality of a lost gem of a song one might find on a VHS of cable access/public television music video shows. Sonically it’s reminiscent of Pseudo Echo, Landscape and The Human League if that music was recorded in a home studio with a lead singer who is clearly inspired in part by Peter Murphy and David Bowie. The words to the song hint at supernatural themes but as a pretext for people getting together. The lines “You’re not the only who hears whispers in the night/you’re not the only one who sees things in the dark” solicit a common bond, a solidarity of uncommon sensitivity. When the vocalist sings “There are ghosts that occupy my dreams, now I fear I’m coming apart at the seams, switch off the light, it’s alright, hold me tight,” it comes from a place of not wanting to be alone amid one’s fears and anxieties, whether of the actual supernatural variety or of those that can feel like it in the moment. Perhaps an unusual and unconventional love song but one that becomes a bit of an earworm. Listen to “Switch Off The Light” on Soundcloud and follow Fragile Gods on the group’s website linked below.

fragilegods.com

Bright Analog Synths Give Lift to Russian Trip-Hop Band AIST’s single “Rocket Fuel” in Conveying a Yearning for the Inspiration to Reach the Life You Want

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AIST, photo courtesy the artists

On its single “Rocket Fuel” Russian trip-hop band AIST gives us a glimpse into a future when the international angst of today has been eased and everyday human life isn’t as distorted and amplified by world events in a direct and urgent way. The bright analog synths shimmer and trail off to give the song an upward drifting quality while propelling the melody forward as the female vocalist sings a song about yearning and striving for the life you want and finding the impetus to get there. Is the “rocket fuel” of the song a metaphor for the support and love everyone needs to make it far in life, to achieve their dreams? Perhaps, but either way, the way the group arranges its tones from the pulsing synths, drones, percolating tones and winsome vocals gives the song a quality of having come to us from a near future that seems impossibly relatively carefree compared to the dark intensity of the present but not one where humans still struggle with discouragement embrace inspiration where they can find it. Listen to “Rocket Fuel” on Soundcloud and follow AIST at the links provided.

vk.com/insideaist
soundcloud.com/aist-580331044
facebook.com/insideaist
instagram.com/insideaist

Tracy Karam’s Powerful Video For Sandmoon’s “Angels” Highlights the Feelings of Displaced Emotions and Rootlessness in the Wake of the Loss of a Parent

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Sandmoon, photo courtesy the artists

Tracy Karam’s video for “Angels” by Lebanese experimental rock band Sandmoon gives a visual interpretation of a song about a 12-year-old kid who loses a parent and haunted by memory and loss, acts out in unpredictable ways as one will when trying to make sense of what seems and is deeply unfair and which unmoors your life. The youth puts some of his energy into playing drums and some of his time trying to make sense of the new reality of his life. The song’s sparkling and shimmering melodies and gently introspective but emotionally vibrant vocals are accented perfectly by percussion that sets a progressive pace like life passing you by as you feel swept along in its wake when you’re grieving. The tone of the song is one of compassion and patience even when the momentum of life’s demands would like you to move on before your heart is ready. Watch Karam’s powerful and evocative video on YouTube and follow Sandmoon at the links below.

soundcloud.com/sandmoon
open.spotify.com/artist/4omCgekRoMrLhx2POoCx9n
youtube.com/sandmoonmusic
facebook.com/sandmoon
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