Categories
Music

Top 10 Albums of 2024

The albums of 2024 packed in some heavy hitters – good doses spread throughout the year where there was never a single moment when there wasn’t a great album to talk about. Electronic, folk, post-punk, hip-hop… the albums of 2024 didn’t just provide nostalgia or escape, but a hard launch into the rebellion that will inevitably come this latter half of the decade. Although one album did reign supreme and became inescapable no matter how offline you were (you know the one), the albums of 2024 kept alive a serious conversation that surrounded music culture – one that could be discussed, debated, and downright disagreed upon. But boy, was it fun music to argue over. Here are our top 10 Albums of 2024:

10. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, ‘Wild God’

Nick Cave’s been through a lot these past ten years: losing two sons, a self-promoted QnA tour, and perhaps his greatest invention: the Red Hand Files, which gathers anonymous letters asking universal questions in hopes to bring those struggling with the human condition closer together. Wild God is all of these efforts manifested into album form. Here is a self-ordained minister (yes, really), standing on a pedestal claiming that he, on the contrary, does not have all the answers. Despite his human transcendence we see on stage, he’s just a flawed human being just like the rest of us, no matter how mythical he appears to be. This album feels like a conversation, with all subjects treated on an even playing field, gathered around a communal watering hole. Wild God moves through orchestral movements, grand gestures, and peaking crescendos in an effort to say that, no, you don’t need to suffer in order to make great art, but to live is to suffer. We’re all going through something.

With every sorrow, regret, and growth conjured by some wild God is an effort to push us toward becoming better versions of ourselves. One such red hand file write-in asked “What is God?” paired with another request asking him to “write us a poem,” which we believe best summarizes this experience:

God is love but love gets weird
Said the flea to the ant in the devil’s beard
We are passengers here, and it’s as we feared
That God is love but love gets weird
 
Yes, God gets weird and so does love
Said the flea to the ant and gave him a shove
And came down upon him from above
Crying, God gets weird and so does love
 
Well, Weird got Love and God got Weird
And in the monstrous morning there appeared
The very thing we’ve always feared
That God is nothing, but love gone weird

9. Vampire Weekend, ‘Only God Was Above Us’

Five years after their sprawling double album Father of the Bride, Vampire Weekend seemed to have transcended, and matured even, above the scene that once put them on the map. While their former contemporaries are all playing niche festivals such as Just Like Heaven, Vampire Weekend continue to push sound and vision and constantly accelerate toward an improved version of themselves, refusing to be forever stuck in the mid-2010s. But while still experimenting with studio techniques, they manage to keep the distinct sound of Vampire Weekend. Their discography has aged like a fine wine: breakups with religion, the struggles of urban dwelling, and a summation of what it was like to be alive at a certain point in time. While their love for their home turf is forever unwavering, New York is not the same as it was in 2010-2013: only the wealthy can afford to live comfortably, the organic contemporary cultural arts scene is merely an apparition of what it once was, and bands are getting harder and harder to come by. OGWAU seems to be a reflection of a contemporary New York, and a reminder that, no matter how steadfast changes seem to be appearing, it remains truly the greatest city in the world.

8. Jessica Pratt, ‘Here in the Pitch’

Former Amoeba records employee and astrologist’s daughter, Jessica Pratt’s music believes in and acknowledges that there’s some sort of higher power at work. She treats her guitar like it’s an antenna straight from God, a prism through which she conjures and expresses incoming signals in the form of self-expression as if it’s the only way for us to peer into the next dimension. Akin to the rural, mystical sounds of folklore-y Led Zeppelin, these tracks could fool any listener into thinking, “wait, she’s from Los Angeles? I could’ve sworn she was from, like, Dorset.” But it’s an album like Here in the Pitch, with its unmistakable “Laurel Canyon sound,” that proves there’s still a soft spot for the spiritualistic amongst a sprawling metropolis like L.A., you just have to dig deep into its soul to find it.

7. Mannequin Pussy, ‘I Got Heaven’

Dream-pop melodies and moments of serenity give way to droning guitars and rambling vocals, only for the eye of the storm to come and give us a brief reprieve, before sucking us back under again. Such as how the emotions go in Mannequin Pussy’s fourth LP I Got Heaven. Through its 10 tracks, it mixes the violent with the gentle, each one a hook after a hook after a hook. It’s punk that doesn’t alienate, that’s not exclusive. Rather, it covers a large variety of epic pre-choruses and accessible melodies that are written to be embedded in any listener’s brain. It’s punk as a vessel, carrying messages of solitude, self-reliance, and self-efficacy. I Got Heaven is about building your own paradise and coming to terms with one’s demons. Always one of the more exciting punk bands coming out of the Northeast U.S., Mannequin Pussy have been able to catch the attention of the mainstream that few other punk bands can, and signal that maybe, just maybe, their best work might still even lie ahead of them.

‎‎‎‎

6. Cindy Lee, ‘Diamond Jubilee’

Edmonton, Alberta’s Cindy Lee (real name Patrick Flegel) has been a touring, working class singer/songwriter for some time now. One could say they’re one of the last true roadshow indie musicians, living off gig to gig in small Canadian pubs and bars, with nothing but the roads of North America to guide them. Then, a funny thing happened. After a glowing review from Pitchfork that seemed to come out of nowhere, Lee was suddenly shot to the center of the universe, whether they liked it or not. Soon enough, they immediately started selling out shows, which were then upgraded to venues 10 times larger than originally planned. Happily ever after, right? Wrong. Afterward, Cindy Lee cancelled the remainder of their North American tour.

One would think this overnight success (10 years in the making) is the stuff musicians’ dreams are made of. But one listen to Diamond Jubilee and one can tell sometimes too much of immediate exposure can be detrimental to the material as well, if not the artist. It’s not an album to be examined under a microscope. With so many tiny, fragmented moving parts stitched together, it’s not an album to be zoomed in on and obsessed over, but rather to be zoomed out of and observed. All these small building blocks of catchy tunes compile to create something much bigger: a contrast of the just the right elements making a whole bigger than the sum of its parts. And at a brisk two-plus hours long, it would be a crime to single out key tracks and decide what is extra fat and what is not.

One has to ask though: would we be talking about this album on our “albums of 2024” lists had Pitchfork not broken it into the music journalistic culture? That’s up to the listener to decide. Because what we have here is a homogenic, gesamtkunst piece of work created and curated by a working class musician just doing their day job.

5. MJ Lenderman, ‘Manning Fireworks’

“So you say I’ve got a funny face?” Lenderman delivers rhetorically on “Wristwatch.” On Manning Fireworks, he combines the mundane with the complex: “I’ve got a wristwatch that/tells me you’re all alone,” “Kahlúa shooter/DUI scooter.” Even though the lyrics sound thrown together by an eighth grader, there’s an earnestness about them. One can tell that, no matter how absurd of images they conjure, they nevertheless come from a place – a place of self-scrutiny, envy, but most of all, self-trust. On this album, Lendermen doubles down on his convictions: “I’ve never seen the Mona Lisa/I’ve never really left my room/I’ve been up too late with guitar hero/playing Bark at the Moon.” Perhaps every straight white millennial can relate, but there’s also something universal underneath these tracks – a self-comforting assuredness that only comes with coming to terms with the materialistic vices close to you. They’re singular and specific, sure, but his words echo across a generation.

4. Fontaines D.C., ‘Romance’

Boy, have these boys come a long way from the better land. Five years after opening for IDLES and releasing their best album to date, A Hero’s Death, Fontaines D.C. once again redefines what it means to be “alternative.” But rather be the “alternate” of something, they decide to look inside: you don’t stand out by going outside of a box, but rather, by defining your relationship with contemporary culture. One look at the “Starburster” video and one can tell these blokes grew up on football, Final Fantasy, and Salvatore Ganacci – topics that are not considered mainstream to American audiences, but instead are tools used for self-expression. They clearly demonstrated their musicianship on their first three albums, but on Romance, they take their appeal a step further through the underlying links that bring them and their fans, new and old, closer together.

3. Charli XCX, ‘Brat’

What’s left to say after a year of enduring Brat? From a presidential election, to a nearly endless album rollout, to a “word of the year” seal of approval, Brat didn’t just “arrive” in the summer of 2024 – it burst into the pop culture sphere like a thousand barrels of renegade crude contaminating everything around it. It was a campaign of unapologetic rebellion and authenticity, about wearing your messy, earnest self on your sleeve. A viral TikTok dance, a series of Boiler Room sets, and endless themed club nights, Brat pretty much affected every facet of pop culture available – as a marketing tool, as a beacon of hope, as a way of carrying yourself. There hasn’t been an album roll out like this since Astroworld, and probably won’t be another in a long while; it’ll be extremely difficult to capture the lightning, zeitgeist, and cultural “it” factor of Brat.

2. The Cure, ‘Songs of a Lost World’

We’ve never been the biggest Cure fans. We can mostly certainly claim to have never seen them live. After several attempts throughout our adult lives, we were never able to quite find my doorway into them. That was, however, until Songs of a Lost World. 17 years in the making, perhaps SOALW was the one that was waiting for me to finally break in. Tight, yet atmospheric, bold, yet modest, Robert Smith sings of a continuing career that needs no further additions, and the legacy they’d leave behind after they’re gone. Showcasing sections of droning instrumentals, it feels like the band vamps on the same chord progressions for most of these tracks. But they’re not just the same chords over and over again: they’re circular. There’s a certain transcendence that comes with these repetitions. Just like their career itself, they’re never linear, coming to pay a visit repeatedly like a comet making its orbit. And if you think about it, it feels like they’ve been vamping all along. All they’ve done is vamp on their same specialities. But that’s what we know they’re good for. The Cure has always been a moving train: you can hop on and off whenever you like. But it’s their duty as a band, and as artists, to challenge their listeners. If this is the last we ever hear from them, then it’s a worthy album to go out on.

1. Waxahatchee, ‘Tigers Blood’

This album is many things: a cold beer perspiring on a humid summer porch, the sound of your nieces and nephews buzzing around you, the second guessing of the current relationship you’re in wondering if things could be better. Katie Crutchfield touched on something with Tigers Blood. Whereas Saint Cloud brought forth a higher production value, Tigers Blood presented itself with a bare-naked, stripped-down confidence. Anything produced or highbrow would’ve just gotten in the way of the songs’ sentiments. Upon first listen, one can acknowledge that, yes, this is a collection of ten great songs. And then you end up looping it, and then shuffling it, then get lost in it. And the more you listen, you discover that it’s not just a collection of great folk rock songs, but a parable – an amalgamation of what you once thought was intangible.

We’ve been listening to Waxahatchee for about ten years now on and off, like checking in on a neighbor we’re not necessarily close with. Her music was present in our college years, through different partners, through different phases. And while it was never music we really associated with our experiences, it was an apparition that always lingered in the background. Her work was always a reminder that you’re a work in progress – an abiding aid and testament that we are always and forever in the process of becoming better versions of ourselves.

After a while, you find new partners, move on from past mistakes, discover yourself vis-a-vie one another. And soon enough, you find someone, or something, that’ll wash away your sins. That’s what Tigers Blood can do.

Categories
Music

Butthole Chairs, Budget Bands, and Barbacks: Molly Horses Do Something for the F*ck of It

“Can we talk about whether or not we want to say on the record how we got our name?” lead guitarist Cormac Brown asks his four-piece band, the noise-punk outfit Molly Horses. “It’s important to note that I have never had a more difficult time doing anything in my entire life than the difficulty we’ve had at reaching a band name,” he confesses.

It’s a fall Tuesday afternoon as we’re gathered around a table in bassist Malcom Watts’ Highland Park backyard, which also serves as their rehearsal space. The four members reach into their pockets as Brown, Watts, Harry James (guitar/vocals), and Tim Wright (drums) pull out their phones to a shared Notes document and start rattling off potential band names.

“I still like ‘industry plant,’” confesses Watts.

“I hate ‘industry plant.’ Won’t do it,” Brown retorts.

“I like ‘Very Good Computer,” admits James.

Brown agrees. “My favorites were ‘Special Movements’ and ‘Clang Clang Clang.’”

“I put ‘Surgery Socks’ after my dad’s surgery,’” recommends Tim. “Because they give you these funny socks with little bumps on the bottom so you don’t slip and fall… it’s fun.”

“But I don’t want too funny,” Brown admits.

Watts continues scrolling, “There’s ‘H.J.’”

Deciding (and agreeing) on a band name is without a doubt the toughest task any band will undergo. It requires a tight balance between contradicting efforts. A name will determine whether you’re given the time of day from someone who’s never heard of you, but at the same time, there’s a strong desire to catch the eye of a potential new fan.

But that especially goes for noise rock bands. Whereas many band names are chosen out of a vacuum, noise rock band names take up a certain kind of history and responsibility that promotes inclusivity.

“I think inclusivity is important in any public facing thing that you’re doing,” Brown declares. “It is weird at that stage of being a band to assume that we have such a platform that it would matter at all. But it’s little microcosms like that that are really important.”

Particularly true in today’s current climate, which makes it hard for any band to make a living from making and playing music.

“It’s not like we practice all the time thinking how we’re going to make money when we make new songs,” Watts professes. “I don’t think we think about that at all.”

“I don’t think anyone in this band feels that way,” Wright proclaims.

“The new success that I’m seeing in L.A.,” Brown continues, “…is you go on tour for a couple months, you play some festivals, and then in your off time you got your three or four bartending shifts a week. And… that’s a fucking dream to me. Everybody talks about ‘making it’ as a musician in this way that they’re talking about something so fucking antiquated, and so not real anymore, especially if you’re a grassroots band and not an industry plant, or an industry project or a pop artist or something like that.”

“Or an influencer,” Wright throws in.

“My favorite hot take that I will not elaborate any further on, is that nobody should ever make money for making art. Ever. Nobody should get paid to make art.”

“Yeah. If you’re doing art for money you shouldn’t do music like we do,” James jokes, and is met with more chuckles from around the table.

“I mean there’s a very visible line in the sand of bands that were at the right time,” Wright enlightens. “I lived in New York from ’99 to ’05, so I saw the birth of everything that we hold in such high regard, like your ‘LCD Soundsystems’ and your ‘Strokes’ and ‘Interpols’ and that stuff… in my opinion, that was the window. If you weren’t elevating yourself and you didn’t get to a certain level by 2005 or 2006, that to me was the cutoff. That sounds like a really long time ago, but even by 2010, it was so fucking hard to get on the road and make any money.”

“What do you think was that divide?” I ask.

“Labels had more money. Advertising budgets were a lot bigger.”

“Was it Napster?” Brown gripes.

“Sure, sure, but also magazines used to be huge. Everyone was going and buying magazines, that’s how people found out about [bands]. And that was a nationwide thing. Like, Wichita would have Uncut, or some cool British magazine that was available, y’know?”

But while being a genre that promotes inclusivity, “noise rock” is also notoriously difficult to pin down as a sound. I run down a quote I had recently stumbled upon somewhere: “[noise rock is] more punk than punk rock, more progressive than progressive rock, more alt than alt rock. Would you agree?”

Wright throws their hands up: “Sure, that’s the empty pot, right? Whatever you want to put in it.”

“Yeah so it’s just music anyway, right?” James concludes. “It’s so hard for me to tell people what we sound like. Because people will ask, ‘what kind of music do you play?’ and I’m like ‘oh, y’know, loud, talky stuff….we’re a four-piece, kind of loud… rock n’ roll… noisy stuff.’”

“But it’s not Tom Petty,” Brown quips.

“It is Tom Petty.”

“…There are elements of Tom Petty,” Brown surrenders. “When we first had a sit down meeting [for Molly Horses], I said, ‘I want every single element of this project to be thought out.’ The intention is to be recorded… there’s not a single note, a single beat that should just be a shrug. It’s like an energy thing for me: this is tapping into an energy and trying to give back to an energy that’s super important to me, and boils down the essence of human-hood and being alive and doing something for the fuck of it.”

All qualities which pretty much embody the noise rock ethos: a genre orchestrated by hard-working, middle-class people who don’t think of their work as anything other than what it is, who get up to do a hard day’s work and check out for the evening.

‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ Molly Horses

Bobby Womack plays out their monitor speakers as they set up for a run through of their next show’s set – an unexpected but rather loose choice to get in a headspace – followed by the Carpenters and the Beach Boys.

“Would you like a butthole chair?” James asks me.

“A what?”

“A butthole chair.”

I stare at James blankly when they point to the aluminum stool next to them, the kind that has a hole in the middle of the seat. And as I look around the room, I notice several other stools serving as Molly Horses’ go-to multipurpose tool: one butthole chair holds up the hi-hats, while another holds up a mic stand, another holding their tempo click.

I choose to stand as they assemble the gear: Brown plugs his Jazzmaster into a Fender Hot Rod Deville, James on an identical setup. Wright sets up their 1961 Slingerland drums with an SPD-SX for pads, with Watts on a Fender Jazz bass accompanied by an Erebus modular synthesizer, and enough effects pedals with an LED light show that can rival any synth punk’s eurorack setup.

After a brief brush up of the song’s structure, they break into their single, “King Dudalk.” With compressed guitars, and a 4×10 amp configuration that gives just the right amount of low end, the song sounds as if it was already mixed and mastered, a telling sign of audiophile enthusiasts that put live sound first. Guitar tones get even more chopped and distorted one song after the next as I realize what makes their sound so cinematic: different personalities coming together to create.

“Who do you believe your contemporaries are?” I ask. Molly Horses looks to each other blankly.

“I don’t think we sound like anyone in L.A.,” Wright confesses. “I know that sounds pompous. But my girlfriend nailed it, she said: ‘you are a band that musicians like.”

“And that’s something that people tell us all the time, ‘You guys don’t sound like anybody else,’” James follows.

“We play with Ughh a lot,” Brown mentions. “They’re contemporaries in that they are our peers. And we play a lot with them, we’re pals with them. They’re great. The closest we’ve played with who I thought, ‘Oh this feels in our little pocket’ was Guck.”

“I was talking with my dad about it on the phone,” James clarifies. “And I said, ‘well the problem is everybody in L.A. sounds like the Osees,’ and the Osees live here. So I don’t want to be the ‘budget band’ of the band that lives in the state you live in.”

“I will say that the thing that’s given me the most joy,” Wright contributes, “is getting compliments from other bands we play with who don’t sound anything like us and who you’d think wouldn’t even take the time to listen. We’ve gotten a lot of compliments from bands that I could be like, ‘woah, really? You dug it?’ Someone was reciting lyrics [back to us]. It’s really flattering.”

After a short while, they continue the run down of their upcoming set. They rip into their single ‘Beatty,’ a bass heavy song that leans strong on the upbeat and alternates between a four/four and five/four time signature, all tied together by James’s snarky but howling vocals. As one song bleeds into another, I can’t help but notice a single thread that ties them altogether: “What’s your greatest take away from Steve Albini?”

“Oh God,” Brown trifles, dazes off briefly in thought. “There’s a clarity, and a sort of ego-less, spiritual approach to the way he wanted to create and capture sound, that I think was really beautiful.”

“I think that’s a lot of the way we communicate as a band as well,” Wright adds. “We’re all just allowed to bring to the table what we’re good at. We’re very lucky that these four elements became something really kind of magical. There’s no ego in [Molly Horses]. There’s no bullying of ‘you do it this way, you do it that way.’”

“Just jabs,” Brown prides.

“It’s like little kids squirting guns at each other. We’re very fortunate that the ideas that have happened, a lot of them were spontaneous.”

“Especially the way we’re moving into songwriting now.” James adds, “Someone will play something cool at band practice… then we record whatever and can demo it from there. It’s just a really nice, cathartic way for everyone to write their own parts. No one’s going to go ‘that sucks, don’t do that.’ You can be like ‘we should do this instead.’

“Solutions based stuff,” Brown assures. “But the thing that I loved about Albini [on recording other bands]… is he said, ‘in my later years, I realized it’s unfair to the band, it’s unfair to myself, it’s unfair to the listener of the record to even form an opinion about the band.’ Which I thought was so fucking enlightened, and so transcendent… and so I’m trying to, y’know, approach [music] with a little bit more of that.”

Molly Horses will be playing at Gold Diggers and Zebulon on February 8th and March 11th, respectively. Their debut EP, Clang Clang Clang, will be out this spring. 

‎‎

Featured image by Devin DeRose

Categories
Music

Porij: Indie Redefined?

High up on the historic intersection of Hollywood and Vine sits the Bardot Hollywood – a one time VIP section attached to the Avalon that hosted the likes of Jerry Lewis, the Ramones, and Frank Sinatra. But not tonight. As I approach the venue, I hear a swath of synths emulating from inside, leading me to just who I’m looking for.

Porij has been on the upswing for the past year now. Just within the past six weeks, the 4-piece Manchester outift has played the BBC6 Music Festival with the Smile, multiple shows at SXSW, and New York’s Baby’s Alright. Just this morning they were featured on KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic, and have even opened for the likes of Coldplay, Wet Leg, and Metronomy. But tonight they play to a crowd of L.A. music enthusiasts, ones that are always on the hunt for bragging rights to be able to say “I was there.”

As I enter soundcheck, I hear them playing their latest single, “Unpredictable,” the first off their debut album, Teething, out now on PIAS Recordings. Co-produced with David Wrench (Frank Ocean, Jamie XX), expertly mixed, precisely arranged, it sounds as if I’d been transported to the Haçienda for a brief moment. And had Porij been around during the days of the infamous club, without a doubt they would’ve been on the bill.

Given they’re a band that’s been touring extensively, Porij shows no signs of lethargy as they meet me in the back bar area. Jacob (guitar), James (bass), Nathan (drums) and the vocalist simply known as Egg, appear as if they have nothing in common from the outside in. As James approaches with a rolled cigarette, I find it evident they’re craving some sun, and suggest we step outside.

As they look down upon Hollywood and Vine, there’s a stark contrast between the view and the Northern English four-piece seeing the United States for the first time. Considering their rising status, and coming hot off of SXSW and their first U.S. tour, my first instinct is to ask how they find our grassroots venues compared to theirs.

“Grassroots venues are equally as important over in the U.K.” Egg takes the lead. “You know Glastonbury festival?” Of course. “They just announced the lineup, and they took out all of the performers who came up through grassroots venues. I think there’s only a handful of names still on that poster. Everyone is coming up through these grassroots venues.”

Along with the U.S., the U.K. also faces a grassroots venue crisis, one that saw about 125 venues shut down in 2023, which has led to fewer grassroots bands forming in the first place.

“If you don’t have them, then you can’t let artists get their legs and figure out how to do the thing before they blow up,” Egg continues. “Also, it’s just a different vibe of performance. It’s so wonderful, I don’t think there’s anything like it. Those intimate, sweaty, small gigs. It’s the most fun.”

“We’re all massive fans of grassroot music venues,” Nathan preaches. “And so it’s a big time. I think we all spent so much time in there. We’ve done a lot of shows in those venues as well. So it’s nice to be able to represent that.”

Whereas most bands start out by casting each other in roles, writing songs, and rehearsing to “hopefully” play a live show, Porij started as the opposite. Instead of having worked together for months or even years, Porij was haphazardly thrown together as a request by a friend of the band who needed their set time filled after dropping out of a lineup. Seeing the opportunity as a tailwind, Egg grabbed three of their schoolmates at Manchester’s Royal Northern College of Music, threw together some songs, and delivered at the show.

Soon enough, they kept being asked back. But whereas many young bands cater to TikTok or Spotify algorithms, Porij tailors their music for performance.

“I think Porij makes sense live,” Egg hypes. “I think it definitely can be enjoyed recorded, that’s a wonderful time. But I think, because we play such an eclectic, kind of blended music, I think we really make sense when you come to a show. And you see it in its whole thing, and you feel it in the moment. I think that’s what people have said a lot… ‘oh yeah I listened to your tunes… and then we came to see the show… wow, okay, we get the vision.’ So definitely always, [we’re] first and foremost a live band.”

This, inevitably, led to radical approaches in recording music.

“It’s kind of like, ‘what can you get away with writing and playing dance music as a band?” Egg proclaims. “When we first started out… we would write a song, and then we’d play it in a rehearsal room, and then we’d record what we could then play in a rehearsal room, and that would be what was on the track. We’ve since got a little bit more…” Egg trails, “…maximalist. Just in terms of layers. I think we’ve got more… Optimistic. I think we’ve allowed ourselves to be a bit more experimental.”

“We were all split across the country,” they continue. “We were living in different places, and so we would send ideas across… like on soundcloud, would add bits – it was like musical ‘pass the parcel.’”

Since their inception, they’ve been labeled the inescapable title of “indie,” shamefully by default, because they have so much more to offer than just that status. Birthed from Manchester, their DNA is inarguably made up of the dance genre, the same thing that’s been in the blood of the Happy Mondays and the Stone Roses.

However, “indie” has always been a varied term in flux. Yes, it may be short for “independent,” but its definition has now transcended what it literally means. It wasn’t until another Mancunian band, The Smiths, were called indie that the term was really assigned a sound. But hailing from their DIY beginnings, and given their support for and from grassroots venues now across two continents, is the term “indie” currently being redefined? And are they an example?

“I mean I don’t really know what our music is when people ask us,” Egg confesses. “Because I think we take so much inspiration from so many different genres of music. I don’t know if our music is ‘indie,’ but it wouldn’t bad if it was. I don’t know if ‘indie’ is taking on a new meaning, but we’ll have a bit of it! We’ll take it.”

Porij (courtesy of Jesse Glazzard)

ㅤㅤ

“But does the overwhelming feeling of coming out in debt at the end of this tour ever intimidate you? As it has with so many other bands starting out and backed by a label?” I ask.

“Being a musician in this current climate is really hard,” Egg reflects. “I don’t know if you saw James Blake talking about recently that people have been led to believe music is free now. And it’s super hard as a touring musician. It costs SO much money to tour. I don’t think people realize quite how much. We did a run in January of these incredible grassroots venues in the U.K. when we were road testing our album. We sold out every venue and we still made a loss.”

“There was a time when touring was the only way to make money,” Jacob chimes in. “And now that seems to have gone, so it’s like, what are we left with to actually be sustainable?”

Egg follows up, “I mean… it’s our favorite thing to do in the world. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t doing music. None of us are in it for the money, otherwise we wouldn’t be doing it!”

“And the opportunity to be in America, it’s wild,” Jacob added.

“I mean we’re incredibly grateful for where we are,” Egg remarks as they raise their arms in a gesture to the Hollywood hills behind them. “This past week and a half has been utterly mind blowing, like life changing stuff. We were sitting in a dive bar last night and our music was on the jukebox! And it’s like, ‘what the hell is happening!’”

But with all the surmounting obstacles young bands face, I dare ask: “Is a life in music still possible?”

“As long as people keep creating music, then a life in music is still possible,” Egg declares. “It’s a tricky environment, but I think music is always going to survive through whatever comes because I think it’s innate. I think humans want to make music. I think that’s never going to change.”

Porij will be playing Get Together 2024 in Sheffield, England on May 18th. Their debut LP, Teething, is out now via PIAS Recordings.

ㅤㅤ

Featured image courtesy of PIAS Recordings

Categories
Music

Coachella Slump: Has The Music Festival Bubble Finally Burst?

If all the years felt like they were too good to be true, then, they probably were. With the second weekend of Coachella upon us, this year’s run of main slate festivals is officially underway, albeit to some underwhelming response.

From Coachella, to Bonnaroo, to Governor’s Ball, this year’s festival lineups have been met with little excitement due to their lack of thrilling, surprising headlining acts one can’t see on any major touring circuit. With unexpected reunions becoming the norm as the years progressed, U.S. audiences have become accustomed to being surprised by ballsy festival choices. So much so, that when 2024’s major festival announcements rolled out, everyone felt a little glass half-empty, resulting in the slowest Coachella ticket sales in a decade. Where was room for all the alternative acts? Why are they all pop stars we could easily see anywhere else? And higher ticket prices? The answer is not as simple as one would think. There are many facets that factor into these decisions, because choices like these aren’t made within a vacuum.

To assess why festival lineups are so lackluster this year, one must look at the live music economic climate we’re currently in.

The Cost of Touring

The current climate in today’s touring ecosystem has all but dwindled since the comeback from the pandemic, having never fully returned to pre-2020 levels due to the high cost of touring in the United States post-COVID. In the wake of the circuit coming back to life, it only became more expensive to tour due to venues and ticketing companies trying to recoup expenses they lost. Even as recently as this month, the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services instituted a 250% visa fee increase for global musicians hoping to tour in the U.S. The touring/gigging life was hard enough as it is, but when the pandemic came and left, it became nearly impossible. Sure, 2023 may have been a record-breaking year for Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, and Drake. But for grassroots venues and artists, the financial cost hit hard.

This, as a result, has become the new catch 22: where venues in major cities like New York or Los Angeles had pay-to-play policies, touring is now looking very much the same way. There are countless stories by reputable musicians who have been dupped by this broken touring system, such as Arooj Aftab. After being mentioned on Obama’s year end list, nominated for Grammys, playing Coachella, even she saw difficulty in making ends meet. “We headlined a ton, had massive turnouts and have proven ourselves in all the markets,” she tweeted. “Yet still, running 10s of thousands in debt from the tour and I’m being told that it’s ‘normal’. Why is this normal. This should not be normalized.”

Add in how ticket prices have soared due to price-gouging (*cough* Ticketmaster *cough*), and given that many of these acts are international who require visas that need to be paid for, the touring circuit as we know it has dried up significantly. And those that do go on tour often aren’t on the road for as long and only visit the biggest cities. Ultimately, rising costs means fewer bands are touring.

Cost of Living Crisis

Take also into account the cost of living crises occurring in both the U.S. and the U.K. As rent prices soar in metropolitan areas, many local art and music scenes are driven out due to in-affordability. This results in fewer local bands gigging, which results in fewer music goers going to see shows, which results in venues shutting down. And as rent costs soar, energy, service, and supply costs do as well, forcing many venues to shut down or raise prices to pay bills. Just this year, the Music Venue Trust (MVT) – a charity in the U.K. that aims to protect, secure, and improve grassroots music venues – released figures that show two grassroots venues closing per week, with 125 venues shutting their doors in the last 12 months. And those that do remain report a 38% financial loss despite seeing an increased demand for tickets in 2023.

But local venues aren’t the only ones that are suffering, entire festivals have been forced to close shop due to these circumstances. In the U.S., Jay Z’s Made in America has been forced to cancel yet another year, as well as Delaware’s Firefly Music Festival and Memphis’s Beale Street Music Festival due to lack resources and finances, therefore closing off any type of international exposure smaller artists previously had access to. And in the U.K., festivals such as Barn on the Farm, Bluedot, and Nozstock have either been cancelled or postponed, amongst others.

Fewer People Going to Gigs

Moreover, fewer and fewer people are going to gigs as a result of these soaring prices. Combined with an energy crisis and a cost of living crisis, more concert goers have become discouraged to splurge on what used to be an affordable night out. This has resulted in an almost runaway feedback loop: as venues continue to shut down, fewer young bands are able to launch their careers, which ultimately discourages the younger generations to start any type of band without the hope of a future.

And as the younger generation focuses on making music for TikTok and Spotify to cater to algorithm rather than performance, venues are close to running the well dry in finding fresh acts.

Even the artists who can afford to tour are deciding not to. Residencies have become more and more popular among established artists, because why spend money on tour expenses with little return when audiences can just come to you? Ever since Celine Dion became the first modern popstar to enjoy the financial benefits of touring from the comfort of a Vegas suite in the early 2000s, many artists have approached the same model, either in one market or bringing the residency to other markets. And since these residencies take place in destination locals like Vegas and Palm Springs, there’s already a healthy amount of foot traffic coming through to offset production expenses without the need for travel.

What also takes away from “general interest” festivals like Coachella or Lollapalooza is the current rise of niche, genre-specific festivals. Festivals such as Goldenvoice’s Just Like Heaven or Live Nation’s When We Were Young serve to cater to different demographics that might have felt out of touch with the current general interest festival circuit, further draining a pool of potential acts who may have been deemed too specific for a prominent spot at Bonnaroo or Governor’s Ball.

All of this, and more, leads to an un-eclectic lineup pool to draw from. Headlining festivals is just not as lucrative or prolific as it used to be. The dearth of touring artists, combined with high cost of living, and a dwindling concert-going clientele can only lead to so many options. Whereas festivals like Coachella usually rely on big “gets,” this year’s lineup selections feature headliners who can easily be seen anywhere else, or in other words, the ones who can afford to tour. That’s not to say 2024 didn’t have the potential to pull off such a feat – there were many possibilities that could’ve come into play. Olivia Rodrigo, Taylor Swift, even the Rolling Stones… big names who just did well attended, highly sought after tours with sky-rocketed ticket prices.

On the reunion side of things, much less probable, but still in the realm of possibility: Talking Heads were rumored to reunite after doing several Q&A’s for the Stop Making Sense 40th anniversary, with Live Nation reportedly offering $80 million to reunite and Goldenvoice offering $20 million to play Coachella, but it became very apparent from the rapport of the members that reunion talks were off the table. A Smiths reunion had been rumored on and off for years, but due to the recent death of bassist Andy Rourke that window seems to have shrunk. The White Stripes always circle the minds of entertainment promoters, but that decision will be entirely left up to Meg White. And of course, as every year, there’s Daft Punk.

But even as we see a dearth now, this can’t bode well for the future of live music. As grassroots ecosystems are phased out, and stadium-sized headliners continue to inflate, soon there isn’t going to be anyone to fill those arenas or to headline these festivals. It’s a pipeline that’s been broken and the gap between the two extremes is only widening further.

However, both the U.S. and the U.K. are doing what they can to thwart this shift in culture. The MVT in the U.K. recently introduced a move to secure a £1 contribution to grassroots venues for every arena ticket sold to help sustain their ecosystem. France has adopted laws for taxation that feeds back into grassroots venues as well, an acknowledgement that local, live arts are an integral part to both countries’ cultures. In the U.S., the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA), which played a pivotal role in forming the “Save Our Stages” act early on the pandemic, provided financial bonuses to local promoters and tour representatives who help execute shows, as well as venue crew members who have worked over 500 hours in 2023.

People often take for granted the art scenes they locally have access to. Particularly in big cities, live music is always there. You may ignore it, which by all means is fine, but it’s there to be enjoyed. However, people often don’t realize it’s a foundation for something bigger – not just future “Coachella headliners,” but a rich, creative, challenging, forward-thinking culture, one that stays in touch with what’s contemporary. It’s there to be valued, it’s there to be talked about, digested. It’s there to remind us just how much live music can truly be a gift to the world.

Featured image courtesy of Jay L. Clendenin/Los Angeles Times

Categories
Music

Top 10 Albums of 2023

Ranking 10 albums to sum up the year in music feels pretty daunting if not impossible. How does one define a year in music with such a brief amount of material? You look at not just the albums themselves, but the lore, atmosphere, and external world they conjured with them. Hundreds of great albums were released this year, all deserving a spot on this list. But these are the ones that didn’t just introduce game-changing music, but created an environment as an extension of themselves. Here are our top 10 albums of 2023:

10. Nakibembe Embaire Group, ‘Nakibembe Embaire Group’

Hailing from Nakibembe, a village in one of the four remaining constitutional monarchies in Uganda, the Nakibembe Embaire Group are one of the last bands to play on an Embaire – essentially a giant marimba made out of tree logs laid across a trench that requires 6-8 people to play it. Made loud enough so it can be heard over the cheers and screams of gathered folk in town squares, the Nakibembe Embaire Group was made for parties in communal gatherings. One could also argue they’re one of the last true traditional traveling jam bands. Originally traveling from village to village, the project has taken them far beyond their homeland to the most unlikely venues where you’d least expect to find them. Performances at Berlin’s Berghain and other international festivals have only heightened their popularity via word of mouth and further spread their psychedelic rhythms across waters. Although not a live album per se, the record gives off a block party feel to it, one that feels like you could stumble upon it in your own neighborhood. And everybody’s invited.

9. Liturgy, ‘93696’

Part Opeth, part Behemoth, part Stockhausen, Liturgy delivered a black metal opera to the tune of entering hell. Progressive in its nature, 93696 borrows from different sonic palettes to the point you completely forget you’re even listening to a metal record. Sure, it’s not metal in the “traditional” way we talk about the genre, but that’s what the genre has always been meant for: it’s an attitude, it’s about the definition one assigns it. The sonically deep soundscape provides the Brooklyn outfit a further outreach, an attempt to grasp onto something traditional metal has rarely been able to do. To redefine a genre is already a difficult task to accomplish, but to totally transcend it? It’s nearly impossible. Thankfully, Liturgy manages to at least eclipse that mission.

8. JPEGMAFIA and Danny Brown, ‘SCARING THE HOES’

One would think that a JPEGMAFIA-Danny Brown album would be like a glazed donut dipped in an orange 7-11 Big Gulp. And at first, that’s pretty much what it is. But after a moment, you discover it doesn’t actually taste that bad. SCARING THE HOES is exactly that: an onslaught of all treble and little bass that immediately goes from zero to 100 and doesn’t stop. The title speaks for itself: the album is supposed to be cumbersome, supposed to be hard to get through. But instead of an intimidation, the album acts as a dare – it doesn’t so much “scare” the listener away as it does invitingly taunt them. It’s more of a, “Yeah I dare you to try and take us on,” rather than an assault. But once you’re on for the ride,and get the hang of its flow, you’ll find it hard to hop off.

7. Oneohtrix Point Never, ‘Again’

Returning to the sounds of his early works like Replica and Returnal, Oneohtrix Point Never has not only revisited his early studio roots but incorporated such lush symphonic sequences to provide stark contrast. Leave this one on loop and you’ll forget you’re listening to an OPN record, and more so something from Wagner or Mahler. But is it MIDI? Is it subtractive synthesis? Or are they actual strings? What makes OPN’s music so great is that he’s one of the last “blurring of the line” artists: we can’t tell what was made in a bedroom studio and what was made on a scoring stage. But in the end, does it matter? OPN has proven that these resources have become obsolete. Anybody can record anything anywhere in the world now. We all have the same tools. Another world’s orchestration is just within our reach, and Again is a perfection summation that, just like singular instruments, genres themselves have become musical tools as well.

6. Model/Actriz, ‘Dogsbody’

Every year, there has to be at least one post-punk album that breaks into this list. And from a year that gave us plenty to choose from, none were as infectious and idiosyncratic as Model/Actriz’s debut album, Dogsbody. Brooding drum machines serve as a cold reminder that they can bring just as much attitude as any string instrument, and basses can serve just as much as a lead as any treble line. With low end clean electronic guitars that feel like the cold empty pit in your stomach a la Interpol, it’s punk rightly turned inside out – a deconstruction of the attitude we’ve become so aptly familiar with. And yet, it still moves, it still rallies against some sort of ideals. Gone are the simple guitar, bass, drum lineups, and in are the scathing soundscapes used as instruments themselves. I do not know who this album was made for. I do not know where the center or heart of it is. I do not know why its esoteric-ness precedes it. But that’s precisely why everyone should listen to it.

5. PJ Harvey, ‘I Inside the Old Year Dying’

Perhaps our earliest choice for one of the top 10 albums of 2023, I Inside the Old Year Dying returned PJ Harvey to her solace roots. It’s tender, self-effacing approach to songs about redemption and closure are reflected in the album’s choice of instrumentation: folk strings modulated by effects and non-distracting percussion. She herself even mutes her vocals at times on the record, adding to an already restrained approach to what seems like an attempt at growing comfortable with an older version of herself. These songs do, at their heart, sound like aged Irish folk tunes, long before Shane McGowan added his punk edge, and echoing most eerily Sinead O’Connor. Sounds of nature break through as if the record tries to scale back its human carbon footprint. And then when the human does try to leave their mark, she sings of earnestness, isolation, but no song is too long or too short. On perhaps her most sensitive album to date, PJ Harvey refuses to be the center of this record. Rather, she lets the sounds around her naturally breath and support her.

4. Sufjan Stevens, ‘Javelin’

Needless to say, it would be hard to name someone in music who’s had a tougher year than Sufjan Stevens. Along with going through physical rehabilitation relearning how to walk after a bout with Guillain-Barré syndrome, Javelin almost sounds precisely like that: a reintroduction to his music. His return to “full singer/songwriter mode” since 2015’s Carrie and Lowell, Javelin sounds like getting a giant eraser and starting over again. Containing pockets within pockets, each song is layered with instrumental and literary dimensions as seamless electronics blend in with acoustics. One can’t help but feel that he couldn’t have written these songs if he hadn’t experienced them himself, a testament to his 20+ year career as one of the greatest singer/songwriters on the planet. And at some points in this record, it feels like his entire career has been building up to this album. Aware that he has bigger fish to fry before returning to the stage, one can’t help but wonder the live outlet he’ll choose to exhibit this work.

3. Young Fathers, ‘Heavy Heavy’

Borrowing from what sounds like early Animal Collective and African tribal music, Scotland’s Young Fathers took a left turn this year with Heavy Heavy, their sixth studio album. Veering from electronic trip-hop structures to avant garde jams, Young Fathers ventured into a different instrumental palette. They’re songs that could be produced with little more than a synth and drums. And if they were just slightly more conventional, you might even hear them on the radio. And yet, they are, at their heart, pop songs: sporadic instrumental sequences give way to soaring harmonized vocals, and loped percussion serves as a vessel to carry melodies. One might take a moment to find exactly where these songs are coming form, but with repeated listens, their influences and inspirations become apparent.

2. Caroline Polachek, ‘Desire, I Want to Turn Into You’

Arguably the best pop album this year, Desire I want Turn Into You finally brings to fruition Polachek’s best work to date and finds the two singles she’s been teasing for the past two years a proper home. Filled with drum n’ bass break beats (a common theme among pop music this year) and soaring melodies that just take off with wings of their own, no pop album this year has ever felt so seamlessly “pop.” Every element feels like it’s in its proper place no matter how eccentric (bag pipes and mandolins included). Perhaps there aren’t many pop artists nowadays that actively challenge what pop music can mean. Yes, it may be short for “popular,” but that doesn’t mean it has to always pander to the greatest common denominator. Because even if this album did, we wouldn’t love it as much. And we’ll always have Caroline Polachek to thank for that.

1. Boygenius, ‘The Record’

This writer would be hard pressed to find a better musical combination this year than Julian Baker’s vocals, Lucy Dacus’s lyrics, and Phoebe Bridgers’s, well, Phoebe Bridgers-ness. And after finally releasing their debut album after what seemed like five long years since their formation, Boygenius fully reached their true potential and took the world by storm with The Record.

Never have three singular identities come together as a “side project” and felt like a naturally, sporadically formed garage-rock band. But that’s exactly what this feels like; it feels as if they’ve been playing together their entire lives, a harmonization of vocals and musicianship that easily compares to the Bee Gees, a reminder of when music used to be a songwriter’s medium rather than a producer’s. With lyrics so vivid that they get etched into your brain (“Spray paint my initials on an ATM”), their melodies sink so deep they beg for repeat listens, accompanying you on whatever youthful journeys that make, and encourage, you to feel young again. A brisk 42 minutes eventually turn into a longtime partner – an aid, a mirror, to provide you for self-reflection, song after song.

Categories
Music

The 10 Best Albums of 2022

We’ve witnessed the hard downfall of music titans, the rise of others, all bringing into focus one single, important question: can we separate art from the artists? Depends on who you are. Sometimes it’s doable. Sometimes it’s downright unforgivable. 2022 made us ask ourselves a lot of these questions, all while incorporating the act of questioning the artist into the music itself. This year, reggaton reigned supreme, lo-fi indie-rock suddenly became not so lo-fi, and electronic dance found ways to borrow and re-invent itself. Artists not only challenged themselves, but challenged audiences in how they thought about and perceived them, the result being the most modern approach to music production we’ve seen this millennium. Here are the 10 best albums of 2022.

10. KING HANNAH – I’m Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me

Earlier this year, Liverpool duo King Hannah took to the stage at LA’s Moroccan Lounge. The air was incendiary, the crowd positive, and the sound unique. After ripping through their opener “Well-Made Woman,” vocalist Hannah Merrick quivered, “Wow, hi, sorry we’re nervous, we weren’t expecting so many people.” The house lights came on, to which there was only about 15 people in the audience.

There was something genuine about that show. It felt like the perfect live representation for the album’s intimate, delicate soundscape. Part Portishead, part PJ Harvey, part trip-hop, part acid jazz, I’m Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me is a solitary album that takes you to a place as it uses its tools wisely. Unapologetic in its approach, the album title speaks for itself: it’s another way of saying, “You all don’t have to agree on me, but I’m gonna do my thing.” And when they conjure up that feeling like a kindle of fire, in performance, with everywhere to spread, they could be one of the greatest duos in the world.

9. BLACK COUNTRY, NEW ROAD – Ants From Up There

Georgia Ellery has had quite the busy year. Aside from fronting her other band Jockstrap, she also had a hand in Black Country, New Road’s sophomore (and rumored to be last) album, Ants From Up There. And on her main instrument no less, the violin. But it’s hard to pin down what’s really at the heart of this record. It flourishes with lush instrumentals that seem to drift and sway all around you until you feel like you’re in the middle of an instrumental cyclone. But that’s perhaps the best part of this record – you don’t mind getting lost in it. In fact, it implores you to get lost in it. Soon enough, woodwinds sound like brass, strings get mistaken for percussion, and keys take the place of vocal melodies. It’s a very complex, post-rock record: you can practically feel how much time was spent on it in the intricacies of its layers. But the best way to listen to it? Pick a song from random, loop the album, and just let everything wash over you.

8. HORSEGIRL – Versions of Modern Performance

Chicago’s Horsegirl made an impressive run up to their debut album, Versions of Modern Performance, via a good amount of international airplay. Having established a growing audience overseas, one could easily mistake them as British (even we could’ve sworn they were British). Low-end, clean electric guitars, lyrics that seem far more mature than they could reach, it’s like something straight out of Interpol. Chicago never really got their “post-punk” band in the early 2000s, no band that truly rang with the heart of the city. But that changed with this record, although 20 years after the phenomenon. They sing of young romance, quarter-life existential dread, making a resonance with a city attachment that hasn’t been felt since Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. And for the first time in a long time, the streets of Chicago felt romantic again.

7. STEVE LACY – Gemini Rights

Lacy has made quite the trajectory over the last ten years since his time in The Internet, going from working with Vampire Weekend and Kali Uchis to his now seminal three album run. But Gemini Rights shows more of a maturity while still keeping a foot in his youthful radiance. There’s not a single minute on Gemini Rights that doesn’t allude to fate. Do you ever wonder what it takes, all the little moments that have to happen at exactly the right time, for two people to fall in love? The mission makes it feel nearly impossible, and Gemini Rights paints this phenomenon on a celestial backdrop. It really does feel like outer beings are in command of us outside of our control. Why do the circumstances have to happen in such way? It feels as if we have to relinquish our fate to something of a higher power. But when it does, it really feels as if stars are aligning (“But I could be your girlfriend/’Till retrograde is done.”) But Gemini Rights restores our faith in self-trust. No one’s going to tell us everything will turn out just as we planned, but we just have to trust ourselves that it’ll all turn out alright. Because it always does.

6. HAAi – Baby, We’re Ascending

Australia’s HAAi quickly came up in the electronic dance scene this year, not only because of her collaboration with Jon Hopkins, but due to her unique blend of eclectic electronic music. Drum ‘n Bass, jungle house, and UK garage all surface on this record, amongst others, lending to a seamless sonic journey through a record that doesn’t quite end where it begins, a natural flow of what feels like bouncing around a multi-room club like London’s Printworks or Manchester’s Warehouse Project. But she finds the elements of each genre that complement each other. It’s an education through the history of electronic music in what feels like a brisk 60 minutes, and we should all be signing up for the course.

5. JOCKSTRAP – I Love You Jennifer B.

As the linear expanse of original music production continues, as we embrace new technologies, new techniques to express ourselves, we begin to leave behind new methods as well. Then, this pool of old tech will eventually come back into fashion. What begins to happen, is that we start to contextualize it: not see it as “old” or “new,” but instead see them as tool sets, different muscles to lean on, and use the “old” as an instrument itself.

I don’t think Georgia Ellery and Taylor Skye knew what they were cooking up when they started jamming at London’s Guildhall School of Music. Ellery, a violin player, and Skye, a synth geek, were only using the tools they had available to them, but stood far away enough from the source material to arrange their placements where they saw fit. I Love You Jennifer B. has these, too. With an influence from Tori Amos and Joni Mitchell just as much as Aphex Twin or Squarepusher, the album takes elements of these varying sources and arranges them to live together peacefully. Theoretical musicians will be studying this album for years to come, which already feels like an ancient relic.

For an album that sounds so much like the future, it maintains a foothold in the traditional. Ellery’s lyrics elevate these stylistic grooves to actual formulaic songs, baring such elements that one can dare call them a singer/songwriter’s. But it’s not. This is electronic music used emotionally; the last brace of human touch before surrendering to an electronic world.

4. ROSALíA – Motomami

In all its glitch-poppiness, Motomami works best when you think of it in its different modes of apparition. In its chopped-and-screwed state, it feels like there could be many versions of each song on the album. Just like how one could argue the best version of a movie is all the dailies strung together, one could argue the same with this record with its varied takes in full strung together. But its choppiness is where it finds its rhythm. I honestly could not tell you what she’s singing or spitting about, but her aggressive delivery lets me know that it’s coming from a place. But within it, she paints a disjointed portrait of herself, asking us to put the pieces together. Motomami feels like such a futuristic modern art piece that some people won’t be able to relate to or interpret it (even for us it had to be an acquired taste). Some will be frustrated with it, or perhaps, she’s just building the foundation for something new.

3. ALVVAYS – Blue Rev

This album conjures up many images: the dissolve of a relationship, the smell of your first car, wind in your hair, the last summer before college. Alvvays has been on a steady rise the past eight years making their way around the college radio circuit early on, but nothing could have foreshadowed the sonic depth they would arrive at on Blue Rev. Its sound harks back to how a good an alt-rock band sounded like in the 90s – lots of guitars, lots of distortion, an analog shimmer, mixed in a way that doesn’t sound like mud nor does it sound like it can be achieved in any other fashion. Like the colored layers of technicolor film, the chemical reactions seep into each other to create a Kodachrome look for the ears: pastel, mosaic, light-trails across a screen that fade all too quickly but last long enough so we can cherish them, creating one of the best rock records of 2022.

2. WET LEG – Wet Leg

Wet Leg’s Wet Leg feels like a fever dream, a desperate longing to be somebody else: the perfectly flawed, unapologetic version of oneself. Hailing from the Isle of Wight, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers took the rock scene by storm in 2022, easily becoming the most consistently talked about band ever since their first singles released earlier this year. Cheeky mumbled verses, epic guitar licks, undeniable charm, and British humor all fed into their rise regardless if you could relate to them or not (we didn’t even know what a chaise longue was until this year). But everyone should be able to relate to them, because Wet Leg is about becoming the best version of yourself you always wanted to be. And aside from all that, it’s just a phenomenal rock record from start to finish, each song better than the last.

1. BEYONCE – Renaissance

We could list the contributions made by the many collaborators on this album: Honey Dijon, Mike Dean, Giorgio Moroder… we could go into the specifics of the technological aspects or the complexities of these tunes. But more importantly, this album is a history lesson in dance music, a retribution in taking back your happiness and finding a way to fall back in love with yourself, time and time again. The weekend this record came out, one could hear it on just about every dance floor in every club in their city, a calling card to rally the troops and go into a zone where all time stops, biology ceases to age our bodies, no matter how brief (“Ass getting bigger…”). That’s what a dance floor can do to you, and if this record is playing – a seamless, constant 120 BPM – it feels as if everyone is the same age, all of our bodies in a race against time. This record doesn’t just use dance music as a genre, but as a vessel, an outlet to transport one’s mind into an ageless body, that thing we find ourselves to be so uncomfortable in most of the time that we forget how to love our flaws. It’s an opportunity to lose all inhibitions. We spend so much time trying to find a fictionalized version of ourselves within us, that we forget the key to finding our real selves has been on the dance floor all along. Go find it.

Categories
Music

How Nostalgia Filled the Music Festival Void in 2022

What’s the easiest way to make a buck? To cash in on people’s nostalgia of course. The live music industry was decimated from 2020 to 2021. So much so that, when festivals made their return this year, if it seemed like prices were multiplied 1.5 times, well, it’s because they were. The live music industry took such a hit in the last two years that it’s trying to quickly re-find its footing and push its finances back into the green. But doing so won’t come with originality or innovation.

The “nostalgia” festival circuit is nothing new to the industry, or at least not to Southern California, with a sleuth of revival festivals popping up just before the pandemic (see Cruel World Festival or Just Like Heaven). And given LA’s dearth of alternative music festivals, the city proved to be fertile breeding ground for Goldenvoice and Live Nation to recoup their finances from the past two years.

The first round of nostalgia festivals seemed to be spearheaded by This Ain’t No Picnic, Goldenvoice’s new alternative crown jewel based in Pasadena. With a lack of indie/alternative festivals in Southern California, after the fall of FYF Fest, a void for perhaps LA’s biggest genre scene was gapingly left open, leaving Goldenvoice (the predominant presence in SoCal, and owners of FYF) to craft a weekend festival that would perfectly fit the previous FYF audience. With a lineup featuring headliners Strokes and LCD Soundsystem, and a reunion from Le Tigre, they quickly picked up where they left off by curating a festival with the cornerstones of the genre.  

But perhaps the biggest and most recent nostalgia fest to take place isn’t in Southern California, but Las Vegas. The brand new When You Were Young festival boasted a lineup of bands that hit their peak in 2007: My Chemical Romance, All American Rejects, Paramore, Avril Lavigne, and AFI too name a few. What at first looked like a deliberate cash grab, turned out to be not just that, but a very lucrative cash grab. After selling out in mere hours, a second day was soon added. Then after that sold out, a THIRD day with the same lineup was added. It became so popular that, even before the first installment took place, When You Were Young already announced NEXT year’s lineup and dates (goes to show you how readily available all these acts were).

Other fests have basked in the nostalgia haze as well. Some examples include Smokin Grooves in downtown Los Angeles for classic soul/RnB, Palomino festival in Pasadena for old school country, and of course the hip-hop throwback showcase Rock the Bells. But it’s not just festivals, entire tours with nostalgia acts have been in the works. Summerland Festival reps itself as the “90s alternative rock tour,” featuring bands like Everclear (who founded the festival), Marcy Playground, and other semi-notable acts from the 90s alt-rock, one-hit-wonder craze.

When You Were Young – Courtesy of Jenn Five/Kerrang

The success of these festivals and tours goes to prove that, just like how there’s a sub-reddit for everything, there’s also a festival for every genre of music, and then sub-genre. Live entertainment groups are now cashing in on already built-in audiences: why take the risk in creating something new and fresh when you know what will already sell and be successful?

But it also prompts the question, do people care if they come off as old? Out of place? Outdated? How far can age actually go? How far back into the past does one have to reach before they’re treading into an audience that won’t even show up and represent? Identity crises are nothing new, but don’t even those nostalgic fests and audiences have an expiration date? One can keep bringing back what used to be in fashion, but how much of the old is too much?

And it goes without saying, that even just relying on nostalgia acts isn’t a guarantee for success. 2022 has had a sleuth of mishaps and unfortunate events as festivals and tours tried to make their comeback this year. Live events are not just raising ticket prices, but are cutting corners in hiring inexperienced staff for cheap, resulting in logistical nightmares in running a festival: long queues, angry festival goers, and a desperate need for strong attendance have tainted many events. Spain’s Primavera is one of the main examples that succumbed to these mishaps this year. In bringing back the festival after a three year hiatus, Primavera not only hiked up ticket prices, but also oversold tickets in an attempt to make their money back from the previous two years, resulting in extreme bottlenecking with large crowds in tight spaces with low-paying staff.

But event logistics aren’t the only things making tours and festivals unreliable this year. In addition to artists still contracting COVID, one just simply can’t predict the laws of nature. Las Vegas’ When You Were Young festival had to cancel its first day due to extreme winds, while the long-awaited Rage Against the Machine reunion had to be cancelled after vocalist Zach de la Rocha tore his ACL just a few shows in.

Needless to say, this business model of banking on nostalgia is only a phase. People will only be able to take so much of the past that it’ll eventually dilute itself, until the point where audiences need something fresh. Festivals are now in a tug of war with themselves between banking on what is reliably successful, and what is new, cool and innovative. It’s one thing to be “cool,” but to be cool AND successful? That’s nearly impossible.

But are nostalgia festivals here to stay? As long as audiences like to remain in their comfort zones, absolutely. Nostalgia will always have an audience. But will that take away incentive to fund new, innovative festivals for growing audiences? Absolutely not. Perhaps the next generation of festival goers will be ones that actively challenge themselves, that go against habits like leaning on nostalgia as a crutch, and learn to embrace the constantly changing live music landscape.

Featured photos courtesy of Jenn Five/Kerrang

Categories
Music

The Best Albums of 2021

2021 had no shortage of musical events – another Kanye/Drake face-off, a new Adele record, and an ABBA reunion to boot. We even saw the return of live music, something we seemed to lose sleep over if we’d never heard the likes of again. And like the film world, music is forever evolving, which the pandemic seems to have expedited. But the music of 2021 tended to focus on the small and intimate. There weren’t any grand gestures or complex concept albums (save for Donda), but a resounding sigh of relief that the music world is cobbling itself back together after being knocked down. Here are the best albums of 2021.

 ‍ 

10. GOJIRAFORTITUDE

Perhaps the best and most “accessible” metal band working today, Gojira has been putting out solid records for the past two decades, finally achieving mainstream relevancy with Fortitude, their seventh studio album. It doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel – no math-metal breakdowns, odd time signatures, or noodling riffs that are tricked for self-importance. What we have here is straight-forward, undiluted metal, one not only for the mosh pits, but for the curious minded. Featuring perhaps the most anthemic metal chant to come out in the past 10 years, the more Fortitude is listened to, the more visceral it becomes.

 ‍ 

9. VIAGRA BOYSWELFARE JAZZ

Sweden’s Viagra Boys spent the better part of the last two years making a name for themselves in the alternative punk world, and they seemed to have delivered: Welfare Jazz is an exploratory movement in art punk, mixed in with saxophone and synthesizers as components for improvisation. In fact, if their chord structures were just a little more complex, some of these songs could be mistaken for jazz. Despite having their guitarist Benjamin Vallé pass away this year, they’ve managed to trudge on with their best record yet while refusing to repeat themselves.

 ‍ 

8. IDLESCRAWLER

On Crawler, IDLES take a note from Pantera’s Far Beyond Driven, or even something to the effect of Code Orange. It’s a more inverted punk approach as opposed to what we’re used to hearing from the Bristol band: half-time jams, off-beat rhythms, and counter intuitive structures. It’s a band testing the limits of what they’re capable of, subverting expectations of what punk can sound like.

 ‍ 

7. PARQUET COURTSSYMPATHY FOR LIFE

Cutting in with the best dance/art punk of the year is Denton, Texas’ Parquet Courts. The Brooklyn-based band has been kicking around the festival and public radio circuits for years now, but it wasn’t until Sympathy for Life where they achieved real mainstream attention, gaining praise from Iggy Pop and Mark Reilly along the way. It’s also an evolution in their sound. In Sympathy for Life, they’re not afraid to slow things down and try different musical palettes their fans aren’t accustomed to. Taking notes from Franz Ferdinand and Talking Heads, if I had to point to one bad that’s pushing dance rock to its fullest, its Parquet Courts.

 ‍ 

6. ARLO PARKSCOLLAPSED IN SUNBEAMS

This year’s Mercury Prize winner ultimately became the self-help guide to 2021. Listening to these songs as a whole collection sounds as if they are working in service for someone else. Who could she be singing to? A friend? A foe? A heartbroken lover? Collapsed in Sunbeams actually feels like sunshine – light, clean electric guitars, E-piano hooks, gentle delivery of lyrics that don’t speak in the definitive – it’s an SSRI of an album if there ever was one, or like Vitamin D that soaks beneath your veins.

 ‍ 

5. LITTLE SIMZSOMETIMES I MIGHT BE INTROVERT

It’s true that we all live two lives: the one we choose to share with other people, and the one in our heads. Introvert straddles these two points of perception: the interior and subjective is characterized by pleasing, joyous orchestral pieces, and the objective with the gritty grime setting of South London. And sometimes the two meet in the middle, albeit rarely. But it’s a special occasion that occurs – proof that there is a way to bring your true thoughts out. London rapper Little Simz does this with delicate detail, where daydream-like instrumentals come into contact with the grit of living in South London. But the interiority is a stark magnifying glass: we spend our lives inside ourselves so much that it’s true when people say “we are born alone and we die alone, everyone else is just a bonus.”

 ‍ 

4. LOWHEY WHAT

Low’s electronic a cappella reaches new depths with Hey What. It’s an album that doesn’t sound like an “album” in conventional terms. It’s more as if they start and stop whenever they please. The songs play like comets coming in and out of our orbit, and with a set piece like “Days Like These,” the harmonized vocals continually become more distorted, as if they’re a distress signal drifting farther and farther away. It’s a haunting record, no doubt, but one that shows proof of musical evolution by transmitting emotion through electronics.

 ‍ 

3. AROOJ AFTABVULTURE PRINCE

Sometimes a song’s emotional emphasis lies in between the notes. Saudi-born, Booklyn-based Pakistani artist and Berklee College of Music professor Arooj Aftab has spent enough time teaching that she’s been able to carve out her own space in music theory. And thanks to a shoutout from Barrack Obama, she’s now becoming a part of everyday music lingo with a grammy nomination to boot. Perhaps the most transcendental album of the year, Vulture Prince leaves you in a meditation accompanied by sounds that don’t really belong on this earth, acting on a near-unconscious level.

 ‍ 

2. DRY CLEANING NEW LONG LEG

On paper, Dry Cleaning shouldn’t work. A girl rambling on about the mundanities of life as if they were coming from her own consciousness? I don’t think so. But it works. There are no frills to New Long Leg, only that it’s a proper step toward a new type of rock music. Sure, it’s been done before: the rambling stream of consciousness, the post-punk instrumentation, the bass taking over as the lead instrument… they’re elements that have been recycled. But Dry Cleaning assigns their own definitions. They claim a space that’s theirs. They’re called “Dry Cleaning” for a reason: you get your attire back but in a new and improved way.

 ‍ 

1. JAPANESE BREAKFASTJUBILEE

Following up her 2017 album Soft Sounds From Another Planet, Michelle Zauner seems to have taken it up a notch. I couldn’t really tell you what Jubilee is about, but more so of what it feels like: a shot for cathartic release. Soft vintage synths (an evolution from the plug-ins used previously) give way to flying horns, as if they’re waves washing ashore causing one to deep dive into anxious self-reflection. This album’s about desperately wanting to be happy, and the neurotic state that comes with questioning if you are so. But what is happiness? It’s just a moment before you want more happiness. We all wish it could be this prolonged feeling, but it’s good to confront that thought from time to time. That’s what Jubilee feels like. And by the end of it, you’ll swear you felt something intangible.

 ‍ 

Categories
Music

Meet Duster Lizzie: NorCal’s Hidden Gem

Eddie Hernandez, aka Duster Lizzie, has been gigging around Los Angeles and greater California for some time now. Having relocated to Camp Meeker, CA, he’s been solidifying his sound drawing inspiration from the nature and intimacy of Northern California, adding onto his already psychedelic, signature lo-fi vibe. He’s recently taken on a heavier electronic approach with his latest album, Spiritual Sequel, now available to stream, buy, and download on all streaming services. Check out the video for “Joke’s On You” below.

Categories
Music

How the Flaming Lips Became the Only Act to Successfully Play Live Shows During the Pandemic

It seems like all these years performing in bubbles has finally paid off. The Flaming Lips have always been ahead of the game. With a successful run of live (!!) shows earlier this year at the Criterion in Oklahoma City, the Lips attempted yet another run of live shows last month. The catch? Both the band and the audience are placed in pressurized bubbles in separated locations throughout the theater. One ticket allocates for one bubble, which can contain up to three people in your party. Seems like a gimmick, right? Both yes and no. Ever since the debut of Wayne Coyne’s bubble feature at 2004’s Coachella Music and Arts Festival, it’s become a staple in the band’s live show. And for years since, they’ve been very vocal about wanting to play a show with the entire band and audience in their own bubbles. And now, they don’t have a better opportunity to execute such an idea.

It’s also a testament to not just how ballsy they are, but also how innovative they’ve always been throughout their career. They’ve always been able to outdo themselves one way or another, whether it be an album released entirely in fur (Emryonic), releasing an album that’s required to be listened to on four records simultaneously (Zaireeka), or releasing a 24-hour long song on a USB stick encased in a skull (7 Skies H3). Regardless of what you think of them, they’ve always pushed the boundaries and tested the limits of what music can be capable of. Comparing their college-garage rock days of the late 80s and the trajectory they’ve travelled to where they are today, they look like the result of Pink Floyd and the Sex Pistols having a baby that fell out of a UFO, and landed in, of all places, Oklahoma. Their audacity to transcend musical limitation has always led me to believe that there are no “good” or “bad” Flaming Lips records, but rather impulsive explorations in how music can be consumed.  

 ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍  ‍ Pic courtesy of Flaming Lips/Warner Music/Reuters

And now, the Lips are once again using the times to their advantage, realizing that, even though this is a time of separation, there’s still a viable place for intimacy. It also emphasizes what their music has tackled for decades. From their chaotic live shows to eccentric album releases, they capitalize on what rock music can achieve – a communal experience through personal obsession.

Ever since the 90s, the Flaming Lips have long been rock music’s most inventive band. And surprisingly, most of that time has been on a major record label. But it’s how they’ve marketed themselves that turned these freaks into such a success, being able to develop such a reputation for themselves and subvert expectations. Whether it be trying to record a 24-hour long song, or playing to a theater entirely capsuled in hamster balls, they’ve never been a result-oriented band. They’ve staked their whole career on the premise that it’s not about the destination, it’s all about getting there.

 ‍  ‍  ‍ 

Featured image courtesy of Scott Booker/Warner Records