#Patrick Hayes

[lepetitdragonvert]

La Belle et la Bête / Beauty and the Beast

Au Royaume des Contes de Fées

Texte de Sarah Hayes

Librairie Grùnd

1993

Artist : Patrick James Lynch

[cawnecny]

Some of my favorite tweets, comments, and quotes by NHL players

Fave tweets (in no particular order):

(honestly I'm not sure if this one ^ is real, but it is funny so-)

Favorite Instagram posts/comments:

(yes, that is Nolan Patrick behind Claude.)

Quotes and Other Things:

[am3ricanh0rrorwh0re]

hey, you !! yeah, you !! c’mere. do you act happy about evan peters dating natalie (and are genuinely happy for them) but still feel some semblance of sadness ?? well look no further !!

just hyperfixate on one or multiple of ev’s characters until you forget all about the sadness, it’s that easy !! some world class favorites are tate, kai, and even peter maximoff !! (my reqs are open and any i haven’t gotten to are being worked on. this is my method to distract sadness and its currently working)

disclaimer: i am genuinely happy for them, so don’t take this post as me being a hater. i’m certainly not a hater, but it’s like watching your crush kissing another girl. you’re happy for the girl, but sad for yourself. i did this all in great half-fun, and my reqs are open y’all. its sad that there’s so many people hating her that i have to make it clear that this was a joke. i love seeing the two of them together, and the picture are adorable. although, i will admit my “crush” on him, but i know i have no chance of getting with that man. it’s all in delusion, but evan and natalie’s relationship DOES NOT CONCERN ANYONE EXCEPT EVAN AND NATALIE. i’m a femcel who can’t get a man for the life of me, so he’s my man (delusionally ofc) 😭. love them though and i can’t get enough of the cuteness <3

[wehaveagathering]

On 19 May, 1974, the Philadelphia Flyers defeated the Boston Bruins in the sixth and final game of the Stanley Cup Finals. The score was 1-0, Philadelphia; the lone goal was scored by Rick MacLeish, number 19, at 14:48 in the first period. With this win, the Flyers became the first NHL expansion team to ever win the Stanley Cup.

Happy 50 years, Flyers.

jeff vinnick / len redkoles / chase agnello-dean / bruce bennett / john d. hanlon / len redkoles / elsa garrison / andy lewis / len redkoles / andrea cardin / frank o'brien / anonymous / andrew mordzynski / len redkoles

dalton day: THE CHOICE-BETWEEN-A-HAMMER-&-A-FEATHER-POEM

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Robin Hood: Men in Tights 1993

[dustedmagazine]

Dusted Mid-Year 2024, Part I (Oren Ambarchi to Loma)

Oren Ambarchi and crew

Half the year is gone already, and how did that happen? At Dusted, we’ve spent six months listening to good records and bad.  We’ve picked our very favorites, the top two from this year’s pile.  And now, in an annual tradition, we turn them on our fellow writers.  Hah, take that!   

Some of our Mid-Year switcheroos have been highly contentious.  We may have lost a writer or two in the aftermath.  Others have been remarkably collegial and full of positive discovery.  This one falls more or less in the middle.  Only a couple of reviews are notably grumpy.  A slightly larger (but still not large) number show evidence of newly awakened fandom.  For the most part, we came out with the same favorites we brought with us, though perhaps a little wiser about the music that we’re missing. 

For this reason, it is harder than ever to identify winners.  There’s no universally admired album we can call “this year’s Heron Oblivion.”  Rosali and Winged Wheel each got four votes, as close to a sweep as this year brought.  Oren Ambarchi’s Ghosted II notched three.  There were lots of lone pics—which is fine.  More music to check out. 

As always, we’re breaking the mid-year into three parts.  This one covers the front of the alphabet, a second will deal with the back.  The third, as always, provides longer lists from participating writers.  We hope you enjoy it. 

Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werliin —Ghosted II (Drag City)

Who recommended it? Bryon Hayes

Did we review it? Yes, Tim Clarke said, “They cleave closer to the meditative, exploratory grooves of The Necks, laying down intricately detailed and gradually evolving parts… Sublime.” 

Bill Meyer’s take:

Count me among the Dusted writers who hold this trio in high esteem. Ghosted II strikes so precise a balance of texture, stillness and motion that it’s easy miss how fragile it is; one misplaced note or beat could bring it all down in a second, but the trio sustains each of the album’s four tracks for ten minutes or thereabouts. While it’s easy to appreciate the tidal flux of Oren Ambarchi’s guitar>>table of boxes>>Lesley speaker signal chain, and Johan Berthling’s immovable bass presence, if you are about to put this record on the hi-fi for the first time (PLEASE listen in stereo), consider focusing on the infinite mirror effect of Werliin’s percussion. Your third eye will thank you.

Olivia Block — The Mountains Pass (Black Truffle)

Who picked it? Bill Meyer

Did we review it? No

Ray Garraty’s take:

This has actually none of the pretentious stuff you expect to find in a work by somebody who has been dubbed a “media artist.” The second part of The Mountains Pass is especially stunning where ‘f2754’ has clearly a Giallo-esque feel to it, fast paced and a tad prog rock-ish. “Violet-Green,” perhaps the best composition on the album, brings in mind those creepy soundtracks, with synths and bells, which we usually hear on bad horror movies. And even when Olivia Block, on the same track, begins to sing, her voice is outlandish enough to think that she was abducted by the aliens. 

Camera Obscura — Look to the East, Look to the West (Merge)

Who Picked it? Andrew Forell

Did we review it? Yes, Andrew said, “Campbell writes movingly about memory and friendship. Looking at what was rather than regretting what might have been with an honesty that goes directly to the heart of things.” 

Bryon’s take:

This record makes me realize that I should listen to more Camera Obscura. The Glaswegian indie pop group is a delight to take in, especially Tracyanne Campbell’s lovely voice. Look to the East, Look to the West is a comeback album, the band’s first since they went on hiatus following the death of keyboardist Carey Lander in 2015. The most striking aspect here is the use of pedal steel and organ, which lend the album a country and western flair. This seems to be a new development for Campbell and company, but they pull it off well and the new sounds really suit the band. Similarly effective are the digital drums that the band employ on tracks like “Liberty Print.” Camera Obscura have altered course slightly but retain the loveliness that lies within their core.

Chief Keef — Almighty So 2 (RBC)

Who nominated it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? No.

Jennifer Kelly’s take:

Six years in the making and continually delayed—a fact the artist refers to several times during the run-time—Almighty So 2 is massive and ambitious, with operatic hooks and wall-shaking, body-pummeling beats. A mountainous swagger rocks, “Grape Trees,” the cut with Sexyy Red, a machine-gun ratatat thundering under brutal lyrics about gender relations. The politics are embedded in the subject matter, in the screaming sirens, the South Chicago gangland scenarios, the profanity, rage and cynicism. “Jesus Skit,” though, gets a little more explicit about it, positing a sliding reparations scheme that depends on skin color; light skinned rappers like Drake and Chance the Rapper lose out big time, while darker ones, like Sosa, get millions. The violence comes in the shattering beats, as in “1,2,3,” a slow-motion eruption. Here the artist sketches the bleak world that made (and continues to make) him, chanting, “I always believed I was gon' get paid/When I got to hustlin' up in sixth grade/You ain't givin' off that nigga, you won't get laid/Sleep for the weak, I been up for six days.” The track, like the rest of Almighty So 2, is gritty and nihilistic and undeniably powerful. So glad I got to hear this, non-expert though I am.

Cindy Lee — Diamond Jubilee (Realistik Studios)

Who nominated it? Patrick Masterson

Did we review it? Nope (and shame on us…)

Jonathan Shaw’s take:

Diamond Jubilee commences with three dazzling songs: the title track, “Glitz” and “Baby Blue.” Even if the rest of the record weren’t so excellent (it is, and at over two hours, there’s a lot of it), the strength of those three songs would propel it into frequent rotation, on my various devices and in my head, and likely onto the year-end list I will eventually compose. “Baby Blue” is the crucial track: it’s one of those songs (along with Warren Zevon’s “The French Inhaler,” Townes Van Zandt’s “For the Sake of the Song” and a few others) that is so ruthlessly fine in its execution and so suited to some of the least comfortable angles in the emotional furniture in my head that it requires a kind of commitment to listen to. Beyond that irretrievably subjective response, Diamond Jubilee commits, as well: to gorgeous melody, without entirely smoothing out the sharp edges that distinguished Lee’s What’s Tonight to Eternity (2020); to the reverb-saturated aesthetic of fading girl-group harmonies, clubland at 3 am, spangled cocktail dresses of motheaten satin and the pleasures of the last cigarette in the pack when there’s no money for another; and, it seems, to love, in social conditions that make love nearly as unthinkable as it is completely necessary. The surreal, in its modernist avant-garde iteration, emerged in similarly extreme social conditions, after the slaughter of the Great War and amid fascism’s rise. Those forces were enough to distort human relations into monstrous shapes nigh irrevocable. Lee’s music has strong relations to the dreamlike quality of the surreal, and we have our own terrors now: climate’s awful and furious change, social media’s psycho-social poisons and fascism, once again. Those terrors’ spectral presences are audible all over Diamond Jubilee, but they can’t blunt the sharpness of human longing in songs like “All I Want Is You” or “Don’t Tell Me I’m Wrong” or “Government Cheque.” Love’s intensities may not be sustainable, or even particularly livable, but they won’t be denied. Cindy Lee captures that set of truths with that aforementioned dazzle, and with depth.

DIIV — Frog In Boiling Water (Fantasy)

Who picked it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes. Tim Clarke said: “Despite the music’s dense layering and the overall feeling of frustration and confusion, Frog In Boiling Water thankfully leaves the listener with a feeling of hope and eventual redemption.”

Ray Garraty’s take:

If I were given this with no title and artist’s name I’d say this was written by a no name indie band circa 2016. It’s the same shoegazy guitars and sweet and melancholy vocals we’ve been hearing since when, 1994? The songs like “Reflected” got things moving but it’s far from boiling temperatures, merely lukewarm. It’s been written somewhere that the DIIV’s album is about “coping with capitalism,” yet it’s evident that it’s feeding the same capitalism, giving the fans the same thing over and over. And that is how capitalism works. 

Nomi Epstein — shades (Another Timbre)

Who picked it? Christian Carey

Did we write about it? Yes, Christian said, "Epstein’s music is unfailingly attractive and elegantly paced. Shades is an excellent introduction to her work."

Bill Meyer’s take: 

Since Nomi Epstein leads the Chicago-based new music ensemble a.pe.ri.od.ic, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to hear her guide performances of other people’s music. But shades is only the second album devoted to hers. Its three long pieces are, like the Wandelweiser and minimalist composers that a.pe.ri.od.ic has often supported, sparely arranged and deliberately paced. She puts intriguing sounds — some prepared piano notes, or a barely-there vocal tone — just far enough inside the frameworks of the music to invite one to listen in. Once your consciousness is inside the music, the slow movement of what surrounds you mesmerizes. Music this reserved and respectful is a welcome respite in a world where reality smacks you upside the head every day and even that influencer babbling on the phone belong to the person sitting next to you on the train insists on staring you in the eye.

Fuera de Sektor — Juegos Prohibidos (La Vida Es Un Mus Discos)

Who nominated it? Jonathan Shaw

Did we review it? Yes, Jonathan wrote, “It’s a singular sound, by turns compelling and bewitching—like the beautiful face you can just about discern across a dim and crowded room, a set of lines and textures briefly lit up by occasional drags on a cigarette. Not quite (or not just) postpunk, pop or dance music, the songs on Juegos Prohibitos itch at your hips and scratch into your brain.”

Christian Carey’s take:

Barcelona band Fuera de Sektor released a demo in 2022, but Juegos Prohibidos is their first full length recording. No Wave is a significant influence, particularly in the fiercely intense sing-shout vocals from Andrea Jarale. If you visit the band’s Instagram, it includes an amateur video that is an homage to Richard Hell, replicating a 1970s comic from NY Punk Magazine in which he starred. But there are many more reference points. The guitars channel the chops and soloing of eighties New Wave, and the rhythm section provides relentless uptempo playing. The defiant demeanor of the songs themselves depicts an unstoppable wall of intensity.

Daryl Groetsch — Above the Shore (self-released)

Who picked it? Andrew Forell

Did we review it? Yes, Andrew called it “a 75-minute floating symphony that insinuates its way into your subconscious with almost imperceptible stealth.”

Ian Mathers’ take:

Whether approvingly or not, works like this 75-minute composition/album are often described as if they were very static in nature; as if even when there are changes they happen in rigid, predictable ways. It may be that if you poke around under the hood of Above the Clouds enough you might be able to diagram out the way elements meld, progress, and separate again, and possibly under that light the whole thing looks regular. But in terms of the way it feels when you listen to it, there’s something quite different going on with Groetsch’s work. The whole thing does feel quite immersive, almost environmental. But as opposed to any number of ground-level or even underwater vistas that come to mind with similar works, here I feel suspended in the air, very far above any shore indeed. The listening experience feels akin to endlessly falling, eventually not so much above as through softly glowing clouds. It’s somehow soothingly vertiginous, and more captivating (and attention-rewarding) than most of its peers.

Icewear Vezzo — Live From the 6 (Quality Control Music)

Who picked it? Ray Garraty

Did we review it? No.

Patrick Masterson’s take:

Chivez Smith has been a familiar name to anyone keeping an eye on Detroit rap for the last decade — longer than you might think and long enough, now, to make him an elder statesman among the city’s spitters. What better time, then, to take a step back and assess not just how far you’ve come, but what all that hustling has amounted to? So goes Live From the 6 (not a Drake reference, in case you were momentarily confused; Vezzo’s from 6 Mile on McNichols north of Hamtramck), which isn’t quite a career retrospective but carries the themes of one. Vezzo’s in a reflective mood over the course of these 13 songs, his slightly frayed vocals forever unhurried and his beat selection consistently nodding to the high West Coast era; you could put Ice Cube or Snoop (or, for that matter, YG or Nipsey) over most of these productions and it wouldn’t throw you off. It’s not totally insular bars-wise, either; a questionable DaBaby feature aside — his double-time admission that he sees a therapist is heartening given how deservedly he got shunned by the establishment just as he was fixing to peak — Memphis artist YTB Fatt also shows up. Fellow Motor City emcees Babyface Ray and Chuckie CEO provide the remaining color, but end to end, this is Vezzo’s show and he shows up. There’s no lack of entry points to Icewear Vezzo’s discography by now, but if you were hesitant before, Live From the 6 is merely the latest display of his acumen. Hear why he’s the one.

Loma — How Will I Live Without A Body? (Sub Pop)

Who picked it? Tim Clarke

Did we review it? Yes, Tim wrote, “Yes, this is a heavy album, but luxuriously so. It’s music that stares death in the face and instead of running, hunkers down and gets comfortable.”

Alex Johnson’s take:

Listening to How Will I Live Without a Body? is like eavesdropping on a collage of someone else’s thoughts. Contemplation or confusion or a eureka one moment to the next. It’s theatrical, passionate music that, to me, shares a heavy sensibility with the operatic post-rock on Portishead’s Third. Like an unsettling daydream, the lyrics blur the mundane and existential. In “Affinity,” the narrator stares “into the dark,” finding herself multiplied but disconnected – “my shadows move/with and without me.” In “I Swallowed a Stone,” a“kettle boil[s] forever” and she “can’t live this feeling anymore.” Given the song’s tense, foreboding percussion and muted guitar “can’t” sounds like “might have to.” 

Might, but not necessarily will. Despite the doses of dread, How Will I Live Without a Body? never feels resigned. You’re treated to interjections of sound, instrumental and otherwise —  flashes of illumination, portals to enter. “Unbraiding” fits sheets of strings, bird song, and burning punches of guitar fuzz around a simple, repeated piano, illustrating the line “bring somewhere out of nowhere.” Loma is working with a robust sonic palette here, but the album’s ethos seems grounded in a DIY curiosity. That “Broken Doorbell” features what sound like actual broken doorbells and then ends with waves hitting a shore is emblematic. It’s a lovely, if perhaps temporary, moment of arrival, having followed the shadows wherever they led.

[gostlyghost]

A couple more collages with Evan Peters characters💬

(changes: added + one collage that I found in my works)

[morgansyorkie]

The Boys & Baby Uncle Kev spending the day with Beau

[americanpeoplescareme]

Evan Peters Writing List

Evan Peters

Jimmy Darling

Luke cooper

Jeff Pfister

James Patrick March

Kai Anderson

Mr. Gallant

Edward Phillip Mott

Rory Monohan

Austin Sommers

Russell Hayes (no smut)

Peter Maximoff

Alex (adult world)

Warren Lipka

Colin Zabel

Max Cooperman

Let me know if you want me to write about any charactor that isnt on this list! I might add it on here or write you a story

[violetwitch12087]

You guys can request stuff if you want i will do

Evan Peters

Tate langdon

Kit walker

Kyle spencer

Jimmy darling

James patrick march

Kai anderson (maybe)

Taissa farmiga

Violet harmon

Zoe benson

Cooper day

Max cooperman

Charles (safelight)

Peter maximoff

Alex (adult world)

Max (the final girls/taissas character)

Clay (the Lazarus effect)

Russell hayes

Todd haynes

Colin Zabel

If a character that they played isnt on there you can request it and ill try and see if i could do it and stuff but yeah request smut fluff whatever idc i just wanna make u happy cs i love u and yeah *mwah mwah mwah* bye bye my love🫶

[horrorlamb]

The Franchise Files - The Conjuring.

Released in July of 2013 and based on one of the supposed real cases of the Warrens. The Conjuring was directed by James Wan and written by Chad Hayes and Carey W. Hayes starring Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga as Ed and Lorraine Warren the super famous Paranormal Investigators/demonologists who come to the aid of Roger and Carolyn Perron Played by Ron Livingston and Lili Taylor and their 5…

[cawnecny]

Reactions to tonight's game (plus some memes)

[sesiondemadrugada]

The Libertine (Laurence Dunmore, 2004).

[cartahhart79]

Judge: “May the prosecution please give their evidence against the defense?”

*I stand up and straighten my imaginary suit*

“Your honor; Nolan Patrick, Claude Giroux, Oskar Lindblom.”

*sits back down*

Judge: “I find the defendant Chuck Fletcher guilty and sentence him to be fired from the Philadelphia Flyers Organization and order him to never step foot on any Philadelphia sports facility again.”

*Bangs gavel*

Me: *looks at Chuck Fletcher and smirks* Justice.

[tomorrowusa]

This POLITICO article is from 2019. But little mentioned in its content has substantively changed since then except that Trump is out of office.

There are few things less real than so called "reality shows". And Trump's Apprentice shows were even less real than most of that genre.

A lot of Trump supporters are unaware that he is a nepo baby who was known mostly as a self-promoting publicity hound who suffered a string of business failures and bankruptcies prior to making it big with the Apprentice.

Who is Donald Trump? Ask Americans and many of them will describe a self-made billionaire, a business tycoon of unfathomable success. In research recently published in Political Behavior, we found that voters are not simply uninformed about President Trump’s biographical background, but misinformed—and that misinformation has serious political consequences. Large swaths of the public believe the Trump myth. Across three surveys of eligible voters from 2016 to 2018, we found that as many as half of all Americans do not know that he was born into a very wealthy family. And while Americans are divided along party lines in their assessment of Trump’s performance as president, misperceptions regarding his financial background are found among Democrats and Republicans. The narrative of Trump as self-made is simply false. Throughout his life, the president has downplayed the role his father, real estate developer Fred Trump, played in his success, claiming it was “limited to a small loan of $1 million.” That isn’t true, of course: A comprehensive New York Times investigation last year estimated that over the course of his lifetime, the younger Trump received more than $413 million in today’s dollars from his father. While this exact figure was not known before the Times’ report, it was a matter of record that by the mid-1980s, Trump had been loaned at least $14 million by his father, was loaned at least $3.5 million more in 1990, had borrowed several more million against his inheritance in the 1990s after many of his ventures failed, and had benefited enormously from his father’s political connections and co-signing on loans early in his career as a builder.

Yep, The Donald was a rich kid who spent his dad's money rather poorly. While his father Fred was despicable in his own right, at least HE really did have a successful real estate empire.

When people do discover the true story behind Trump, attitudes about him are changed in a statistically noticeable way.

On perceptions of business acumen, which are higher across both parties, the information regarding Fred Trump’s role in his son’s business success is equally important. Democrats reduce their perceptions of Trump as a good businessman by 6 points, while Republican perceptions decline by 9 points.

And the producers of the Apprentice series had to do a lot of work just to keep up Trump's image.

Apprentice Producers Struggled to Make Trump—and His Decisions—Seem Coherent

The producers were the real (evil) geniuses of the series – not Trump.

Putting the series together was incredibly time consuming. According to journalist Patrick Radden Keefe in the MSNBC clip below, they would have to shoot 300 hours of footage for every 1 hour they actually aired. That is some serious editing for a "reality" show.

Mark Burnett was the metaphorical man behind the curtain pulling the levers of Trump's business image.

In close contests, it takes only a small percentage of votes to change an electoral outcome. The reality about Trump's business image is an additional tool we can use to gnaw away at his vote totals.

[dustedmagazine]

Slept Ons: 2023

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter

If you write for Dusted, you listen to music all the time and you try, at least within your general area of interest, to stay current with what’s current. Ask any of our significant others, and they’ll say we listen to too much music, to which we inevitably reply “What’s that, this ‘too much’ you speak of?” We listen to music while we’re eating, while we’re working, while we’re exercising, while we’re driving from one place to another, even while we’re brushing our teeth sometimes; though, admittedly, the sound quality is not that great in the bathroom.

Even so, we miss things. Here, in what has become an annual tradition, we revisit some of the albums that slipped away in one fashion or another, the ones that we kept putting off until it was too late, the ones we somehow didn’t catch wind of until well into January, the ones we discovered tardily on other people’s lists and year-end podcasts and radio shows. So here are our late finds, a favorite or two each that we never got the chance to write about. Fortunately, unlike bread and fresh fruit and bunches of cilantro, albums don’t go bad if you let them sit for a while.

Die Enttäuschung und Alexander Von Schlippenbach — Monk’s Casino Live At Au Topsi Pohl (Two Nineteen)

This record wasn’t so much slept on as patiently sleuthed. Die Enttäuschung, the long-running German quartet (their name translates as The Disappointment, an appellation that says more about their sense of humor than the quality of their ever-buoyant reimagining of bebop and early free jazz) started selling it at gigs in the spring of 2023. I bided my time, and when I made it to Berlin last fall, scoring a copy was on my agenda. To this day, the record and the internet are near strangers; while you can buy it from Bandcamp, there’s no download, streaming or videos. So, you’ll have to just take it from me that Die Enttäuschung’s reunion with now-octogenarian pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach will take wrinkles off your brow. The first time that these musicians recorded together as Monk’s Casino, back in 2005, they performed every one of Thelonious Monk’s compositions over three CDs; pith was essential. The repertoire hasn’t changed this time, but the approach is looser. Crammed into the intimate confines of the now-shuttered Au Topsi Pohl just as Omicron started ruining parties, the five musicians goose the tempos, spike the solos with impertinence, and veer around Monk’s sharp angles with a combination of intimate familiarity and belt-busting abandon.

Bill Meyer

Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter — SAVED! (Perpetual Flame Ministries)

Not slept on so much as avoided— and why, at this point I am not entirely sure. When I saw Kristin Hayter perform under her previous Lingua Ignota moniker back in December of 2022, she opened with a set of devotional songs on piano, a variety of metallic objects set and chains draped across the instrument’s interior string works. It was extraordinary, and SAVED! features the same basic set of raw, austere elements: that prepared piano, Hayter’s remarkable voice and the problematics of faith. The avoidance may stem from my own fraught relations to the sort of grim Protestantism Hayter reimagines; I spend some time around fire-and-brimstone Baptism as a child, and it left a mark on me. She wove some of that language and those textures into the excellent Lingua Ignota record Sinner Get Ready, but there they were much more symbolic, and largely couched in specific fundamentalisms (Amish and Mennonite) that distanced them somewhat. The sounds and spiritual gestures on SAVED! are a good deal more familiar to me, and they haunt. Likely the haunting is the point. Certainly “All of My Friends Are Going to Hell” and “I Know His Blood Can Make Me Whole” smolder and then burn with varieties of hellfire I have smelled before. One can also hear those songs more metaphorically, and “I Will Be with You Always” (the best thing on the record) is replete with images and intensities that call to multiple levels of meaning, simultaneously and sublimely. SAVED! is a hard record for me to listen to, and that’s why I have come, somewhat belatedly, to prize it so highly.

Jonathan Shaw

Illusion of Safety — Pastoral (Korm Plastics)

Daniel Burke has been carefully and consistently nurturing his Illusion of Safety project for 40 years, and I’ve been embarrassingly ignorant of the output until now. Burke released multiple audio artifacts in 2023, including a 40th anniversary ten-cassette box set, so choosing a single album to write about for the Slept On column was a daunting undertaking. Pastoral is unique in that it shows off a more delicate and expansive side of the Illusion of Safety oeuvre. It’s also one of the few music-focused objects that the stalwart Korm Plastics label has released in years; the imprint focuses on the written word these days. Sonically, Burke has established a series of vignettes that follow a similar pattern. The music flows from short, sharp attacks into lengthy sustained quietude. Burke unleashes his jarring, frantic salvos both percussively and synthetically, and these brief but unsettling periods morph into slowly churning drone swarms. Given that this is just one example of Burke’s sonic vernacular, I’m excited to hear more. Thankfully, when it comes to Illusion of Safety, I’ve been a veritable Rip Van Winkle.

Bryon Hayes

Malla — Fresko (Solina)

So slept on was Malla Malmivaara’s second solo album that even the normally reliable Beehype missed it, but even if you did happen to notice its inclusion on my midyear list, overstating how well-crafted and immersive Fresko’s dance-pop tracks are is hard to do. It makes sense given she’s better known for her acting career, but Malla’s been in the Finnish music game for a long time, too — first in the short-lived mid-aughts house trio Elisabeth Underground, then as herself with 2019’s “Sabrina” single (which got a Jori Hulkkonen remix, a guy who once redid M83) that ended up paving the way for her self-titled 2021 debut full-length. Despite using similar synth arpeggios and a healthy dose of vocal reverb as she did on Malla, Fresko is a little bit darker, moodier, more down in it. Lead single “Moi” (“hi” in English) tells the tale, its perfectly crafted video full of young Rolf Ekroth models doing things like looking impossibly cool in ridiculous outfits and having fashion shows with ATVs in snowy back alley Helsinki parking lots are a perfect marriage of audio and video, images and a melody burned in my brain the moment I saw it. It is very much a dance record flush with tech-house tweaks and no grander artistic ambitions, but Malla’s barely crested 40; now that she’s pledged more time to her music career, it’s entirely possible Fresko is but a warmup for something bolder — and even if it’s not, you could do much worse than a third album full of body movers like this. Hi is right.

Patrick Masterson

Kevin Richard Martin – Black (Intercranial)

Ostensibly a eulogy to Amy Winehouse, Kevin Richard Martin’s Black is a deeply humane expression of isolation, loss and grief. Built from the ground up, the bass deep and warm, swathes of glacial arpeggiated synths and beats that hint at the club. Notes echo and ripple away to create silhouettes of solitude, a tangible manifestation of absence. Despite the deep weight of his music, Martin imbues Black with an incredible delicacy. His abstract architecture allows the mind to roam and the listener to connect with emotional truths. It’s the balance Martin finds between the particular and universal that gives Black it’s power. In the strutting bassline of “Camden Crawling” smeared with narco/alcoholic fuzz, the looming threat of “Blake’s Shadow” and the bleary saxophone in “Belgrade Meltdown” there are the faintest echoes of Winehouse’s sound which emerge from the depths of Martin’s echo chambers. A work of terrible sadness, great beauty, empathy and comfort.

Andrew Forell

Derek Monypeny — Cibola (2182 Recording Company)

Cibola eased into the world as 2022 turned into 2023, but it took me nearly a year to get to it. Monypeny is a confirmed westerner, having lived in Arizona, Oregon, and (currently) the California desert, and an awareness of both the wrongfulness and the good fortune of living in that neck of the woods infuses Cibola, which is named for one of the American southwest’s legendary cities of gold (helpful hint; if you ever encounter a conquistador looking for gold, tell them it’s somewhere else). Monypeny alternates between guitar, shahi baaja, and on electric autoharp the LP’s seven tracks, and Kevin Corcoran contributes time-stopping metal percussion to one of them. The music likewise toggles between stark evocations of space and swirling submersions into nether states. In either mode, Monypeny effectively suggests the gorgeous immensity and pitiless history of the land around him.

Bill Meyer

The Sundae Painters — S-T (Flying Nun)

One minute, The Sundae Painters are churning wild screes of noisy guitar, the next they construct airy psychedelic pop songs of a rare unstudied grace. The band is a super group of sorts — Paul Kean and Kaye Woodward of the Bats, Alex Bathgate of the Tall Dwarfs and the late Hamish Kilgour of the Clean — convening in loose-limbed, joyful mayhem in songs that glisten and shimmer and roar. “Hollow Way” roils thick, muddy textures of drone up from the bottom, the slippery bent notes of sitar (that’s Bathgate) and Woodward’s diaphanous vocals floating free of a visceral murk. “Aversion” lets unhinged guitar shards fly over the thump of grounding drums as Kilgour chants inscrutable poetry. The two HAP tracks, I and II, stretch out in locked-in, psychotropic grooves, relentless forward motion somehow dissolving into an endless ecstatic now. This full-length, sadly the only one we’ll ever have from the Sundae Painters now that Kilgour is gone, is as good as anything that its esteemed participants ever did in their more famous bands, and that’s saying a lot.

Jennifer Kelly

U SCO — Catchin’ Heat (Self Released)

Here’s the extent of what I currently know: Someone I have on Facebook posted a link to it as one of his favorite records of the year, and someone I don’t know responded that they bought a copy of the cassette before the first track even finished. U SCO are Jon Scheid (bass), Ryan Miller (guitar), and Phil Cleary (Drums) and they are from and/or based in Portland Oregon. According to Discogs and Bandcamp Catchin’ Heat is the first thing they’ve released since 2016. That’s it! I started listened to this with the same box-checking, due diligence energy I tend to have for the dozen or so records I hear about one way or another after I’ve already done my year-end writing; most of them, every year, I don’t even make it through one play (the fatigue has fully set in by this point in the process). But sure enough before the end of that first track, I knew this was going to have to be the record I slept on. It’s perfectly structured, with extra-long, absolute blowouts beginning and ending the record, the second and second-last tracks being the two shortest and the only moments of relative calm, and the middle two making up a strong core that both brings in some elements not found elsewhere on Catchin’ Heat (the vocals on “trrrem”) and is just the most straightforward version of the absolute burners U SCO can clearly summon up on command (“woe dimension”). As great and arresting as that opening track is, though, the closing “abyssal hymn” might be the real highlight here, bringing in clarinet and saxophone to add a whole new layer of skronk to what they’re cooking. I’ve listened to this record about 10 times in a couple of days, and they deserve to sell out of that run of cassettes.

Ian Mathers