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Cheerful, Confusing, and A Little Scary – Loss of Life Album Review

From 80s synth pop to existential power ballads.

The awkwardly satirical duo known as MGMT are not just a source of internet memes (the “Electric Feel” bass cover incident) and TikTok hits, but are responsible for some of the iconic songs of the past two decades, such as their 2007 single “Kids”, which still haunts the world today.

Over the years, VanWyngarden and Goldwasser’s project has earned the reputation of being slightly odd and “not your typical pop group”. The golden duo do not shy away from themes of disdain for our current cellphone society, expressing their snarky comments through either cheerful pop or disorientating dissonance. This “weirdness��� came out especially strong on their 2018 release Little Dark Age, which featured peculiarities such as “She Works Out to Much” and “When You Die”. After a solid career of mocking the music industry – and declaring their love for Brian Eno – MGMT release their fifth studio album Loss of Life. Although, Loss of Life is still filled with references to a time long gone, the band shows maturity by taking stabs of satire and cynicism from their previous lyrical aspects, and work it into the nuances of the music.

Design by John Baldessari, Noses & Ears, Etc. (Part Two): Two (Flesh) Faces with (Blue) Ears and                                                             Noses, Two (Flesh) Hands and Hobby Horse, 2006.

The album kicks off by pestering the listener with an immediate nostalgia inducing prelude on “Loss of Life (part 2)” – We’ll come back to discuss the “part 2” and why this would be in an opening track title? The first of many sly shenanigans. The track starts out with a gritty vinyl sound that introduces a music box tune, accompanied by robot-like voice that speaks of uncanny observations of our world and tells the story of a Welsch bard. It is somewhat reminiscent of “Fitter Happier” by Radiohead, but more cryptic.

VanWyngarden recently explained that their earlier success had given them the freedom to focus more on the music for this record, and this becomes apparent throughout the musical arrangements. An example of this is the bridge in “Nothing Changes”, which offers a lovely intricate symbiosis between brass and synth, which builds up and down and finally flows over smoothly into the final section of the song.

Referencing to the sound of 2000 nostalgia, “Phradie’s song” exhibits the cynical attitude that MGMT is known for, but in a more sophisticated manner. The song starts out with a rather cheerful guitar strum, which is soon accompanied by the joyful ringing of bicycle bells and whistles, one again confronting the listener with looming nostalgia. There has been an internet trend going on of late 90s/early 2000 kids reminiscing about the aesthetics of their childhood era. “Phradie’s song” somehow captures this feeling of longing for childlike unawareness, reminding us that this is something we will never get back. The song then goes on as a lullaby and dissolves into something ungraspable. Comforting and threatening at the same time.

“I Wish I Was Joking” is another close gathering of oddities. The chords progressions border on eerie, and the constant unresolvedness tricks the ears. The song makes a reference to drugs, and the construction of its sonic body does in fact stimulate a feeling of still hanging out at an afterparty, while you should have gone home hours ago. Now you find yourself on a dirty couch, fighting a battle with gravity. This same anti-climactic feeling can be found on “Dancing In Babylon”, which features Christine and the Queens. This song lacks climax in the sense that it’s structure seems to tease a chorus, but never actually finalizes this promise.

Lastly, to lay on the Brit of Britpop, the closing track of the album “Loss of Life” (there is it), the album returns back to its opening music box melody. However, this time it finally gives us the resolve that we have been waiting for the entire album in a cosmic dreamscape Stg. Pepper-esque goodbye. It holds on to the uncomfortable nostalgia that runs through the entire album like a thread, but intermixes it with glimpses of hopeful sounds – such as the return of the brass. Only to resolve into some demonic sound and send us back to “part 2”, where it all began. Suggesting that the album is a circular never ending experience.

Instead of communicating their message through words, MGMT have embodied the lost souls of postmodernism in their music, showing real maturity and leaving me confused and scared of a potential “Bubblegum dog” following me in my nightmares. Yet it should be considered that this was a close analysis of the album, which I have listened to multiple times in a row. And what may be the biggest trick of all, is that if you were to listen to it casually, it can also pass a just a pleasant pop record. The pastiche and satire have been integrated in such a subtle way, that it does not stand in the way of the “listenability” of the album. And although the record has been received with mixed reactions, the duo has shown incredibly musical integrity. And for those who stand with one foot outside the borders of reality, Loss of Life might help you slip out the other one as well.

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Change A Winning Team and Reap The Consequences - TANGK Album Review

Badda badda bing, who is the king!? Joe Talbot definitely holds down the throne when it comes to catchy slogans.

In February the (post-)punk band IDLES released their fifth studio album TANGK. The Bristol group has gained a reputation of being loud, outspoken, and somewhat of a riot. I had the pleasure of seeing the magic of the unhinged live in De Melkweg in 2022. Their ear-crushing, distortion soaked, drumbeat driven, comical and socially aware repertoire blew the roof of the iconic Amsterdam venue. Imagine this energy fueled by a crowd that had just been released from the Covid-19 quarantine dreariness and you got the picture. Sparks generated from electrolytes, flung across the room as  they were catapulted from the sweaty arms that flailed among the crowd. This was my introduction to IDLES, so naturally I was excited to see the announcement of their new album. However, with reluctance I have to say I was somewhat disappointed – where did all the energy go?

            The previous 2021 release CRAWLER already showed us that Talbot’s rambunctious vocals are suited for more than just rough hard-headed punk. The opening track “MTT 420 RR” features his softer husky sound to recall the traumatic experience of a drug fueled car accident. A song that rang through my spine, as much as it did through his. But the album also granted us energetic insanity such as “The Wheel”. This shows that the band can certainly handle a broader range of energy and style in their discography. So what happened on TANGK?

Photograph by Aris Chatman, IDLES, 2023.

            Essentially, it becomes clear from various interviews that the band wanted to move on from troubled pasts and focus on the love instead of anger. This is in fact very valid and I applaud that they embraced a more positive attitude towards life. However, it seems adulthood is kind of a damper on the sharp eye that made them relatable.

 Joe Talbot is somewhat of a lyrical genius, having a knack for finding the balance between confrontational social observations and a shocking sloganesque sense of humor. Producing pearls such as “I’m sorry your granddad’s dead – aahaaaha – lovely spread” on “Gram rock” and “Me, oh me, oh my, Roy. You look like a walking thyroid” on “Never fight A Man with a Perm”. And there has not been one moment on TANGK where I either felt the intensity of CRAWLER’s “MTT 420 RR” or found myself giggling like I did at the image of a walking gland. Except maybe on the track “Roy”, that features the most horrible guitar riff combined with rather lovely vocals. Yet, the song carries a seriousness and heaviness that takes away the humor in that awful guitar sound.

            On TANGK the band collaborated with Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich and Kenny Beats, who was also involved on Ultramono. And I cannot help but feel like Godrich’s influence seems to have taken over, which makes it feel like they’ve dressed up a street kid in a fancy outfit and started calling him sir. Make a deal with the devil and you pay the price. In this case the beautiful and subtle piano on the album’s fifth track “A Gospel”, seems to be paid for by the wittiness that carried the lyrics. This track showcases the band’s new direction through an imposing ballroom reverb guitar soundscape with additional carefully placed detail. Sonically it is very pleasing. However, the focus on Talbot’s poetry seems to have been lost, hereby removing a part of the backbone that carried the band throughout the years.

            Where Talbot’s lyrical escapades may have taken a backseat, there were always the bursts of aggressive guitar to pick up the slack. But these rough edges apparently also needed to be smoothed out. Tracks such as “Jungle” and “Dancer” hint at what could have been, but they simply don’t seem to reach the potential to scratch that auditory itch. “Gift Horse” and “Hall & Oats” come closer to fulfilling this satisfaction, but once again the lack of teamwork between vocals and instrumentals make it difficult for the song to bring on that feeling of wanting to punch a wall out of excitement. “IDEA 01” provided us with an unintentional shout-out to the 2013 Bastille hit. What exactly did we loose in the fire, Talbot? The introduction of the song certainly catches a mood, but this cord is cut as soon as the vocals join in.

It’s these kind of lyrical clichés throughout the album that ignite a feeling of disappointment. This in combination with the flattening out of their rough sound makes the album very anti-climactic. Talbot mentioned in an interview that a masterworks such as Radiohead’s Kid A always seemed unattainable, but that it turned out that you just need the right producer… I have to disagree. There has to be a certain match between reality and vision. IDLES had a vision, but forgot to check their reality. The reality that their strength lies in the energy they generate with sudden rough-edged outbursts, may it be guitars, synth, drums or catchy slogans. Ending your album with a singled out sax and bird noises does not make you Radiohead… If only.

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The Feminine Urge to Capitalize on Feminism – Prelude to Ecstasy Album Review

“We are cordially invited to behold…” The debut of ambitious quintet, The Last dinner Party.

Who seem to have suddenly emerged from the depths of Instagram promotional reels and continue to pull themselves up by their stocking suspenders. The Party’s suspiciously well put together first single “Nothing Matters” of their debut album Prelude to Ecstasy caused a lot of controversy and industry plant accusation among the internet music moguls. Who, after the release of the debut album, have no chance but to admit, that whatever privileges The Last Dinner Party may have had, they damn sure used it well. Using their newfound platform to kick gen Z feminism in the right direction by showing ownership of womanhood. Prelude to Ecstasy is an album for the girls, by the girls, reclaiming perspectives on beauty and power.

Directed by Saorla Houston, The Last Dinner Party – Nothing Matters music video, 2023.

            The first single, “Nothing Matters”, is nothing short of an admirably professional, well-thought-out, piece of art. Seldom do we see such strong and creative branding in a newly emerging band. Abigail Morris’ poignant vocals, which are reminiscent of Florence + The Machine’s powerful pipes, are incredibly convincing when she’s telling you that “she’d fuck you, like nothing matters”. Coincidentally, they shared the same producer, James Ford, who has done a skilled job at accentuating the power in Morris’ voice. Accompanied by shredding guitars, an empowering brass section, enchanting harmonies, and a hint of harp, the girl group managed to lay down an incredibly powerful baroque glam rock track of loving desperation and coquette drama.

            One question that followed their debut of suspicious quality was whether the album would live up to the hype? After online audiences dug through the dirt to find the snakes resting beneath the surface, all that could be found was a band that took advantage of the time granted to them by the pandemic and skyrocketed when their talent got recognized by Island Records. Prelude to Ecstasy is a classic ‘all killer no filler’. The album-titled opening section sets the tone for a very respectable orchestral rock album filled with confrontational themes of womanhood – its privileges and complications. Leaving behind the bruised and battered remains of the male gaze.

Tracks such as “Beautiful Boy” embody the envy that the privileges of female beauty cannot make up for. The melodic switch from lovely to threatening encapsulates the feeling of the lyrics: “what I’m feeling isn’t lust, it’s envy”. Songs such as these offer an impressive range of feminist perspectives. Juxtaposing tracks such as “Ceasar on a TV Screen”, which offers the listener a more playful representation of the familiar struggle of female voices fighting to be heard. The track moves along through the successive sections that lead the song from lament to the cries of a conqueror powerful enough to seize Leningrad.

                    Photograph by Cal McIntyre, Prelude to Ecstasy - The Last Dinner Party, 2023.

            Prelude to Ecstasy is a healthy balance between the murderous tendencies that seem to be an essential part of womanhood these days and the recognition of love. Songs such as “Sinner”, portray the excitement of the sin that is interwoven with the actions of love, through which the band exercise their cheekiness and appreciation of these relations. Showcasing that it is not all about the drama, but that there is fun to be had as well.

            All of this paints the perfect picture of the bands identity. One last song that needs pointing out, that wraps up all the elements that come forth in Prelude To Ecstasy is “Gjuha”, which translates to ‘tongue’ in Albanian. Sung in Albanian by keyboardist Aurora Nischevi, it tells the story of the limitations and struggles of language when you try to communicate your love to those you hold dear in a language that you do not control. All the appreciation that is lost in translation. This track might seem slightly arbitrary at first, yet if you really consider it in the context of the band, it adds such a level of depth to the record. It takes on the role of the last piece of the puzzle of what The Last Dinner Party is about.

            What we can take away from an album like this is: “Make your grief a commodity,” because people seem to dig it. The Last Dinner Party have shown us what the new wave of feminism is about by releasing an album of unwavering identity and a message that speaks of struggles that sadly lots of us can relate to. Yet, it does so through the means of cathartic violence, which makes it an incredibly satisfying listen. And for those who have trouble looking further than their accusations of privilege, may it be a lesson.

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Moor Mother for Wire. Photo by Sasha Arutunyova.

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New York by C. R. W. Nevinson, c. 1920

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1970’s Osaka - soyokaze ojisan

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“ This underwater afghan hound is the funniest thing I’ve seen in my life via @klarna “ 

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On the set of The Man Who Fell to Earth.

Photography David James / Courtesy of Taschen

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And im very okay with this

There’s a good chance your inner elbow will never touch the very corner of your room

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in the late 1790s it was in style to wear earrings depicting the execution of louis xvi.

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CITY RAIN by ajpscs Via Flickr: © ajpscs

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