Tim Krauss sounds exuberantly wistful on the new ttypes single “Rock Bottom in Shanghai.” The upbeat melody is reminiscent of a late 70s ELO pop hit and intentionally draws on the sense of nostalgia then employed by Jeff Lynne and company but for this song the purpose is definitely subversive and its uplifting choruses are filled with expressions of heartbreak and struggling with how to bounce back from, yes, hitting rock bottom because all the old ways of clawing one’s way back to at least semi-functional normalcy aren’t really working but hopeful something will nudge you to better headspaces soon. It’s a personal song but ain’t that America? Listen to “Rock Bottom in Shanghai” on Soundcloud and follow ttypes at the links below.
When “Comfort Creature” by Vases starts out with its headlong pace and introspective vocals reminiscent of Beach Fossils or the better end of The Strokes, you’d be excused for not expecting some fairly heady political commentary. The fluid traces of the main guitar riff sounds like something one might better expect out of an indie pop band influenced by The Smiths but Ty Baron comes in with very direct and poetically rendered lines critical of the fake system of inherited meritocracy that poisons all levels of American and really most of world society and convinces most people they’re more worthy than they are just because they’ve enjoyed privilege all their lives. But Baron takes this content further and points to the culture’s “fetish for the young and all their creature comforts” as if when you’re past a certain age you have nothing to contribute to the world and should just get to some place of complacency in a career doing exactly what these days? Maybe mainstream media and “moderate” politicians haven’t been paying attention but that façade crumbled for most people decades ago but now the fallout is eroding and shattering corrupt institutions, unspoken and official, and too many corners of society are resisting going to a better place and too willing to crawl over others to hold on to the splintered remnants of these rungs on which they’ve been hanging for years unexamined and crying out in disbelief when people are demanding more than crumbs, glass ceilings and diminished expectations out of a world where a very few get everything and most have to scramble for perilously little. Maybe Baron isn’t quite as dire than that and his lyrics are far more elegant and personal than all of that but this song is a taste of his forthcoming Vases album that promises to be brimming with similarly vital political content. Listen to “Comfort Creature” on Soundcloud and follow Vases on Instagram linked below.
“Seclusion Drive” is driven by melodic dissolves and brisk pace that suggests a curving path with a hint of mystery and menace ahead underneath a spirit of exuberance. Since it’s part of the soundtrack to a forthcoming thriller called Hidden Valley Place (album out now on composer Pau Terry’s own SkyBabyRecords imprint) it has a vibe similar to the music Pino Donaggio has written for various films across his long career but especially his scores for the films of Brian De Palma, think Body Double and Dressed To Kill where the music has a romantic quality, lushly produced and arranged with dreamlike, bright melodies and also functioning as a fine transition and contrasting complement to the darker elements of those movies. One wonders what nefarious places of the plot “Seclusion Drive” with its suggestive title might lead in the context of the film. But separate from that use of the music it’s a soothing listen that takes the mind to a daydreamy state. Terry has been a prolific composer for various works in television and film like Sidney & Friends, Emily and Care and his work for Hidden Valley Place sounds essential to helping make the twist in the movie more dramatic. Listen to “Seclusion Drive” on Soundcloud and follow Terry at the links below.
Andrey Pobem has created a non-linear cinematic listening experience for us with his song “Следы Великана” (in Latin alphabet “Sledy Velikana” or “Giant Footprints”). A female vocalist hums the traditional lullaby “Hush, Little Baby” in a fashion suggesting a distant, childhood dream comes in with an incandescent drone as the sound of children on a playground hangs in the near distance. But where the song hits perhaps most evocatively is in the middle when drawn out organ sounds and processed bells swim with lingering major key tones and a simple, impressionistic piano figure. It suggests being in a state of journey into deep memory and the subconscious. Sharp, bright sounds pop into the mix and spiral off like otherworldly birds startled into flight. The processional pace brings to mind that timeless quality of a dream that has escaped from the everyday references into more expansive existential possibilities. The arc of melody wrapped around growing through layers of hazy drones feels like the shaking off of the mind’s conscious limitations into the realm of pure imagination unhindered by anything needing to obey the logic of regular life. Children more easily tap into that region of the brain freely and the sounds of children returning later in the track as a kind of unspoken motif is a reminder to the listener that it’s very healthy to embrace that aspect of our brains to replenish the spirit. The outro reprising the “Hush, Little Baby” section from earlier serves to solidify the heady moments experienced throughout the rest of the song, bookending this musical tale of journeying back to a youthful state of mind with one’s adult knowledge intact. The challenge is what will one do with this perspective we often forget? Listen to “Следы Великана” on Soundcloud and follow Andrey Pobem at the links below.
“In The Fray It Wouldn’t Factor” by Absinthe Vows will probably hit many ears as having descended from Floodland period Sisters of Mercy except for the vocals which sound like they were recorded in a darkened closet initially until they become more frenzied and distorted toward the end of the song. The bass line is simple but commanding and the guitar hovers around like a ghost both carrying melody and breaking up into atmospheric textures as it lays back in the mix rather than dominating like it might in another rock band. The lyrics are about a great internal struggle and one against perceived social pressures that in the end don’t really matter as the title of the song suggests. As the song becomes more chaotic in the last third with the vocals urging one to “fight” against insecurity and anxieties one might think of more modern post-punk bands like Pop. 1280 and A Place to Bury Strangers and their own collage of lo-fi, contorted atmospherics and urgent dynamics. Listen to “In The Fray It Wouldn’t Factor” on Spotify and connect with Absinthe Vows on Bandcamp.
Based purely on its single “Tumulte,” Belgian band Turquoise is appropriately named. Its urgent atmospherics are bright yet moody and its musical palette a gorgeous mix of elements: driving, melodic bass lead and spiraling guitar leads with perfectly accented percussion. The collage of styles places the song well within the realm of modern post-punk but with some aesthetic nods to early Ministry, knowingly or not future members of Ministry in Blackouts and more recent practitioners of melancholic pop like Actors. But Turquoise infuses the song with a wiry energy that hints at roots in punk. Certainly the lyrics, which are in French, hint at political themes of frustration at the status quo and the way many people intellectualize the very things that torment them and make their lives more difficult and insist on gradual change when that can be inadequate to the moment. You know, like waiting for “the market” to take care of pressing social and ecological issues, waiting for elites to come to a consensus on how to handle climate change. “Tumulte” isn’t necessarily calling for revolution but it sure does sound and feel like a declaration of resistance to abstracting people’s lives to some theoretical exercise and a need for action sooner than later. Listen to “Tumulte” on YouTube and check out the other track on the single “Voix off.” Keep up with Turquoise on Bandcamp, Soundcloud and Spotify linked below.
Planet of Ghosts is a band that formed in 1991 and after some local success the group parted ways until during the pandemic lockdown of 2020-2021 the four-piece started writing new songs and recording in ways and sharing contributions in a way that modern technology makes possible that was absolutely not an option in the early 90s. The result is a new self-titled album the lead track of which is “Flatlined.” Is the name of the song a reference to the prospects of the human race? With a lyric like “No more space and no more time” that’s entirely possible. The song, though, is a well crafted blend of psychedelic rock, folk, punk and lo-fi. Though the song is well written and has a hook or two what helps it stand out these days is where the recording leaves some of the rough edges that give a rock song character in place like when the feedback flies in the beginning and the middle of the song. It makes it feel like you’re seeing the live band rather than a mediated version of that band. Of course that was an intentional choice but it feels less calculated and more being true to themselves. One might describe the sound as jangle noise psych a little like early Hawkwind with a 90s emo flavor, like Sebadoh collaborating with Alice Donut but maybe not quite that surreal. On the album cover there’s a UFO abducting a tricycle and perhaps the child pictured below. Given the challenges and anxieties the band outlines in the song, who doesn’t not so secretly wish some advanced civilization would come to whisk you away to a better place or to enact benevolent regime change worldwide right now? Listen to “Flatlined” on YouTube and explore other tracks from the album on Spotify.
Paris Jones worked with K’Saan Preston for the track “Willow,” a meditation on depression as a stage of grief. It’s a song from the album Zephaniah’s Book of Trees about those stages and Zephaniah being the name of Jones’ son who passed away in 2015 from complications of birth. That’s a heavy thing for anyone to have to deal with much less find any motivation or strength to work on music. And “Willow” uses a very simple piano melody and spacious production to allow the vocals to sketch a string of thoughts contemplating the meaning of all the identities, values and aspirations we question in the wake of tragedy when it doesn’t seem to mean nearly as much as the pain we feel that is difficult and sometimes impossible to take on all at once especially when we don’t know if it will ever really fade into something that crushes us when we least expect it. Interpolating Frank Ocean’s “Songs For Women” for the chorus, Paris fills this vulnerable track with the light of his faith that he holds on to to get through this wave of grief by spelling out the little things that connect us to our everyday life in a way that we take for granted when life is in normal mode. Listen to “Willow” on Soundcloud and connect with Paris Jones and K’Saan Preston at the links below.
Listening to Anaamaly’s “Passing Moments” is like watching a snow globe in slow motion and taking the time out to imagine what life might be like spending a tranquil afternoon there looking out a window near a river. A drone enshrouding an echoing cascade of tones rippling in the soft sound of wind and hints of water flow mixing together under a pale grey sky as large snowflakes fall all around. Motes of distant sounds peek through dusk like nearby street lights catching your attention periodically when the fog thins or the snow lets up for a moment. Indeed these passing moments aren’t common because there is so often too much in life to push you along or that demand your attention but when they do hit you they seem significant and a point of acute awareness of the need for unstructured time in life. Listen to “Passing Moments” on Spotify or Bandcamp and give a listen to the rest of the Geometric Moods album for similar vibe. Connect with Anaamaly at the links below.
Echoing percussion and a low key urgent swirling drone introduces us to SUEVERIE’s song “VEKI” and in the music video we see a corresponding visual of rippling waters at dusk. Vocals come in with a similar dynamic of echo crying out for relief from an ache of loneliness. For this duo it’s a matter of lockdown and the ongoing pandemic that has forced their separation as each lives in a different country, quite an imposed long distance relationship compounding the isolation and relative lack of contact we’ve each, those of us observing basic precautions anyway, undergone for nearly two years. The slow turning drone and introspective, haunted vocals embody that state of affairs and at the same time sounds like a best attempt to breach that chasm in the ways we can. Sure the members of SUEVERIE like all of us can keep in contact in virtual ways and even make creative work together but it’s not quite the same and the prolonging of these separations have had psychological impacts that are going to affect people for years to come. “VEKI” and the distorted soundscapes and the way it ends in what sounds like a signal breaking apart due to some breakdown in technology sounds like that psychic distortion and disruption. The tone is despairing, and the intensity of feeling is palpable, but the vocals glow with a hope for a break in the worst impacts of the global health crisis so that loved ones can be reunited despite the challenges we all still face put on the backburner by an immediate crisis. Watch the video for “VEKI” on YouTube and follow SUEVERIE at the links below.
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