Merging Jazz Vocals With the Somber Weightiness of Beethoven, Elodie Rêverie’s “Not All Bright Women Live in Bed” Makes Deep Commentary on Internalized Oppression

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Elodie Rêverie, photo courtesy the artist

Using Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” as the instrumental, piano baseline for “Not All Bright Women Live in Bed,” Elodie Rêverie establishes a somber mood for a song about some weighty topics. It’s not unlike, in a completely different musical context, the way Lingua Ignota used elements of Henry Purcell’s Music For the Funeral of Queen Mary in her song “BUTCHER OF THE WORLD” from the 2019 album Caligula. Both utilize classical structure and musical allusion to make a statement on an age old and persistent ill of the world. Lingua Ignota comments on the violence inflicted on everyone by patriarchal culture, Rêverie on the diminished expectations due to diminished horizons by virtue of the fact of sexism permeating culture down to internalized oppression. Rêverie sings lines like “Life’s too big to watch it through a window,” “I don’t have to go to college, I don’t have to know,” and a lyric that contains the song title “Not all bright women live in bed but some do, and I have but I won’t today.” Which are heavy words to sing but it also points to an acute awareness of one’s internal process and a desire to not be in that state of mind. By externalizing these thoughts in song it’s like a mirror for anyone who might have similar thoughts and being able to articulate them gives one some control over how to process and perhaps overcome them. Rêverie’s jazz style vocals blended with the classical sensibility gives the whole song an unconventional dimensionality that refreshingly transcends that of a pop song or any genre consideration. Listen to “Not All Bright Women Live in Bed” on Soundcloud.

The Cosmic Drones of “Blueprint” by PRO424 Soothes Your Mind Into a Deeply Contemplative Mood

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PRO424, photo courtesy the artist

Assembled from field recordings and a , according to the artist, “digital, mostly algorithmic synth patch,” PRO424’s “Blueprint” sounds like what it might be like to sit out on a clear, summer night in mid-spring or fall when there is a bit of a chill so you have a campfire going that casts the vast field of stars in only the slightest of orange hazes. But you’ve hiked to the middle of nowhere away from the ambient orange of a nearby metropolis and you can hear the gentle breeze blowing through the grass and trees, carrying motes into the sky while you lay back and take in the firmaments of the heavens, noting the occasional satellite and aircraft while considering this experience is one someone might have had ten thousand years ago before the discovery of steel and wondered, even then, at the underlying patterns of the movements of stars and the moon and its connection to the design that guides the landscape and life of your own world. In the present tense, you imagine the master blueprint for the universe that one might glean from the smallest part of it the way the Buddha said one could extrapolate all of existence from a single blade of grass. The song in layering organic and digital sounds in a way that sounds like a product of nature brings out these sorts of cosmic notions as you take it in and the sounds flow through you. Listen to “Blueprint” on Spotify and follow PRO424 on Soundcloud linked below.

soundcloud.com/pro424

ZEDSU’s Emotionally Dynamic Single “Love Lies When Lust Dies” Takes You Through the Stages of Grieving a Relationship Suddenly Over

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ZEDSU, photo courtesy the artist

“Love Lies When Lust Dies” finds ZEDSU exploring dynamic contrasts in capturing the ebbs and flows of emotion in a relationship that has collapsed leaving echoes of pain in its wake. On the surface level ZEDSU uses a trap approach to production but within that loose framework he adjusts the speed and saturation of sound to match the peaks and valleys of personal anguish revisiting endlessly the feelings of desolation and confusion as one often does when it’s all over and you’re trying to figure out why and letting out that hurt by going through it in your mind until it doesn’t hurt as bad or your emotions toward the situation are exhausted. Inside the expression of those dynamics in the confines of a just under four minute song, ZEDSU richly articulates the sense of being set emotionally adrift and alone, of the aforementioned psychic torment and the letting go. Appropriate it sounds like the stages of mourning with the bargaining and pleading with an implied acceptance in the echoing of the vocals. Listen to “Love Lies When Lust Dies” on Soundcloud and follow ZEDSU at the links provided.

soundcloud.com/zaire-nashon-farmer
twitter.com/daimyozedsu
IG: @daimyozedsu

Rip Florence’s Headlong Lo-Fi Pop Single “Mumbling Rita” is an Intensely Catchy Roller Coaster Ride of Life’s Ups and Downs

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Rip Florence, “Mumbling Rita” cover (cropped)

Rip Florence’s debut single “Mumbling Rita” has all the gloriously loose dynamics of a musical collision of Camper Van Beethoven and Jay Reatard. The vocals are on the verge of cracking but somehow hold it together and manage to be intensely catchy. The piano work in the song is exuberant but also conventionally well crafted. The guitar sounds like a roller coaster of emotions that end in hanging chords off which the lyrics nearly run off the rails. The soaring synth work and bouncy bass lines anchor the song in an unconventional way before giving way during the break down section mid-song where the whole thing seems to be floating through space before landing again on those rails the song has sailed off of and we’re brought back into the hyper real situations that drive the headlong pace of the song, a litany of life’s joys, absurd moments and challenges—some all at once. And then the song ends before you’re ready yet concludes on a satisfying note. Instantly 10/10 would listen again. Check it out for yourself on Soundcloud and follow Rip Florence, who was once a guitarist for outsider pop genius Daniel Johnston, on the project’s website linked below.

ripflorence.net

BYAS’ Maximalist Techno Track “Eagle” Entrances With Bright Tones and Lush Beats

 

There is an aspect

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BYAS, photo courtesy the artist

of library music to BYAS’ single “Eagle” in that it’s a layered, sonically complex techno track but its natural and dynamic progression is expansive and suggestive of being paired with a visual component. Its tones are bright and warm and the arc of its melody and synth progression glides upward. There is also a tranquil gracious tone to the piece like the flight of its namesake. The twin synth lines soar over the shuffling beat and it would in fact be a great song for a documentary on the bird but also the presentation of information meant to keep you engaged by stimulating your ears and mind. There are hints of the influence of Kraftwerk and its clean tonal lines as well as the playfulness and focus of Giorgio Moroder but it’s that BYAS employs multiple streams of sound and texture as well as the sample of birds that enriches its aural spectrum and sets it apart from a lot of other techno out there that keeps things to essentials. One might think of this as a kind of maximalist techno song rather than the trend toward the minimal. Listen to “Eagle” on Spotify and follow BYAS at the links provided.

soundcloud.com/byasdj
facebook.com/byasdj
instagram.com/byasdj

Esorabla’s “Garden of Dreams” is a Multi-Layered, Mystical Act of Musical Creative Visualization

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Esorabla, image courtesy the artist

The layered streams of sound on “Garden of Dreams” by Esorabla could be interpreted as an analogue of the lyrics in which the being singing is inviting others to take a walk inside her inner world and that “There’s a labyrinth inside me that leads you to a garden of dreams.” A piano melody is a through line as well as lilting, accented vocals but the shimmering keyboard part functions as almost a portal between worlds musical and in the context of the song between inner and outer worlds. “It’s a lucid dream, you’ll never come out” hints at the concept of creative visualization with the later line “can you see what you’ll become.” Through interweaving sounds including strings Esorabla mirrors how a rich inner life cultivated by the imagination offers us a place to escape to and from which to draw inspiration in making the outer life wondrous as well. But you could easily interpret in numerous ways even as something like a fantastical being inviting visitors to a pocket universe of delights and discovery of personal truths and transformative experiences. Maybe something along the lines of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman universe and the various dimensions existing therein. Fans of Amanda Palmer and Bread and Jam for Frances-period Switchblade Symphony will find much to like in the songwriting and performance here as well as the air of the mystical. “Garden of Dreams” comes from Esorabla’s {G O D} EP and you can listen to the track, and the rest of the release, on Spotify.

Hiromonra’s Aural Short Story “You and Me” is Like a Downtempo Dream of a Pleasant Memory

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Hiromonra, still from the video for “You and Me”

Hiromonra’s “You and Me” was conceived as a sort of musical short story. The music video with the illustration and minimal animation, a star twinkling in the background and the figures in the foreground moving in time with the looping keyboard figure. A steady drum beat and sonorous vocals accented by what sounds like record scratching faintly in the background giving the soundscape a texture as a spare guitar melody traces the contours of the song. The image is one of a person feeding a bird in a park at some impossible time of the day with a bright blue sky as the star shines visibly. Too light to be dusk or night, though maybe early morning. But these real life temporal considerations don’t matter as the song and its soulful vocals resting ethereally in an introspective downtempo composition is not tied to a specific musical decade or style either. Rather, it asks for and is easily accepted on its own terms as the dream of a pleasant memory in your mind. Like a great short story it doesn’t try to do too much and is brilliant in its economy and expressing more than seems obvious on your first iteration going through it. Watch the video for and listen to “You and Me” on YouTube.

Rubén de Madame’s Pulsating Techno Track “Fuck Police” is a Cheeky Middle Finger to the Forces of Authoritarianism in the World and in Your Head

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Rubén de Madame, “Fuck Police” cover (cropped)

Barcelona artist Rubén de Madame’s pulsating techno track “Fuck Police” and its music video is a playful yet direct dig at the police and the role law enforcement too often takes on in society. No words of analysis are offered just the simple statement of the title interspersed throughout a hypnotic beat like the soundtrack to evading and keeping the cops at bay. In the video there is imagery of police in riot gear serving as soldiers to keep order but for who? In the 1989 film Roger & Me a deputy sheriff evicts a family on Christmas Eve, protesters throughout the world are killed by agents of the government under the auspices of restoring order, officers of the law carry out extra-judicial killings with often no real consequences and the list goes on. Then the concept of the police state which is a way to permeate a mindset throughout society and a kind of informal or formal Panopticon in which personal liberties and the exercise thereof is a threat to authoritarianism including creative expression and activities that exist harmlessly outside the bounds of official sanction. This song is a cheeky middle finger to authoritarianism as embodied by the role police symbolize for so many people whether they know it or not and to the internalized cop that oppresses you from within. Even if you’re not into the implied political content, it is a slamming dance track. Listen to “Fuck Police” on Soundcloud, watch the video on YouTube and follow Rubén de Madame at the links provided.

soundcloud.com/rubendemadame/fuck-police
beatport.com/track/fuck-police-original-mix/12794228
open.spotify.com/artist/4L7Bj226758ItQctFNztaZ
instagram.com/rubendemadame
facebook.com/rubendemadame
twitter.com/rubendemadame

RadakBanu’s “666m” Incorporates Elements of Traditional Indonesian Music and Psychedelic Prog to Create Entrancing, Hypnotic Soundscapes

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RadakBanu, image courtesy the artists

The title of the song “666m” by Indonesian psychedelic band RadakBanu refers to the height of the volcano mountain in Banda Neira, an island in the east of Indonesia once the center of the spice trade. The song is grounded by a fluidly looping bass line and flowing guitar figure that serves as both melody and accent to the rhythm. If you’re a native English speaking person you probably won’t understand the vocals (perhaps in Bandanese Malay) but it hardly matters as they convey a strong sense of place and passionate reverence. The music is a mix of traditional Indonesian music and informed by Western progressive rock. Like a fusion of traditional music and something by Can in that it feels very spontaneous yet ritualized to put one’s mind in a space outside normal consciousness. The structure of the song is circular yet expansive, its blending of tone and rhythm mesmerizing. Fans of the more folk end of Japanese psych bands like Acid Mothers Temple, Ghost and Kikagaku Moyo as well as Tuareg guitar phenom Mdou Moctar should definitely spend some time with this band’s music as its rhythms, too, are in that kind of hypnotic compound time that allows well infinite iterations with infinite variation. Listen to “666m” on Spotify and follow RadakBanu at the links provided.

radakbanu.bandcamp.com/album/radakbanu-ep
instagram.com/radakbanu

No Room No Sweetener Perfectly Captures the Linger Post-Relationship Blues On “Two Days”

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No Room No Sweetener “Two Days” cover (cropped)

With what sounds like an echoing Rhodes piano hitting two simple, lingering chords, the sparest of percussion, nearly whispered vocals and saxophone, “Two Days” by No Room No Sweetener uses simple elements to craft a downtempo track that sounds like late night or early morning contemplation. In this case of regret over a relationship that is recently no more. The singer lists the things he misses and asks himself what he’s done to make all of the good things about the relationship go away, his thoughts lingering on all the things that remind him of his former beloved. The sounds work as a spacious composition alone but together they have an unusual effect of weighing on your mind in subtle ways just like the mood from which the song is written. The piano ringing out drifts about as a constant presence haunting all the open spaces of the song where even the saxophone doesn’t hang about, where the percussion and even the vocals step out of immediate hearing even if for a few moments overall. And that makes that sound a metaphor for the post-relationship blues that can put you in a wistful funk unbidden, almost beyond your control and a feeling most people recognize even if they don’t spend a lot of time analyzing that mood, they just live through it. No Room No Sweetener articulated that frame of mind perfectly in the song. Listen to “Two Days” on Spotify.