#i've seen a way

[dustedmagazine]

Mandy, Indiana — i’ve seen a way (Fire Talk)

There are plenty of different ways for a record to be overwhelming. We sometimes talk of great pop music as undeniable, as if solid enough craft has its own kind of inexorability. There is of course pure sonic and/or conceptual extremity (heck, there’s a whole book on that if you’re interested), and in even more subjective waters we can each find our personal limits when it comes to emotional intensity. Mandy, Indiana have made an LP that has some familiarity with most of those realms, but also shows off one other particular kind of overwhelming. i’ve seen a way can seem at first both thorny and kaleidoscopic in construction, a discombobulating whirl of a record. But it has a sneaky way of reconfiguring your expectations, so that even listeners who don’t know quite what to make of it may find it evolving from patchwork to singular statement even as they’re listening.

For Anglophones, at least, there’s one immediate barrier here; although the quartet formed in Manchester, vocalist Valentine Caulfield sings entirely in her native French. The kinetic and sonic force of her vocals are present regardless of linguistic background, but translating turns up everything from a list of things men have said to her about her body (the fierce “Drag [Crashed]”) to… instructions for video game players (the stiff robo-grooves of “Injury Detail”). The rest of the band (Alex Macdougall on drums, Simon Catling on synths, Scott Fair on guitar and production) match her range and radical force. If you want to start tracking down rough genre referents for i’ve seen a way you’ll be grabbing pieces from post-punk, synthwave, industrial, noise, and more and spotwelding them together, less worried about achieving seamlessness and instead taking pride in the visible joins. Most bands don’t display the kind of range found here, for example from the seesawing, shuddering blare of “Peach Fuzz” to the fervid steamcloud ambience of “(ノ>ω<)ノ :。·:*:·゚’★,。·:*:♪·゚’☆ (Crystal Aura Redux),” let alone sequence those examples next to each other.

At times, like when the menacing, cavernous “2 Stripe” evokes a half-dub of Massive Attack’s Mezzanine or when the brief “Mosaick” overdrives vocals, cymbals, and various grinding noises into the red, it’s easy to feel in the moment like you’ve gotten a bead on what Mandy, Indiana “does.” But then they immediately pivot somewhere you might not have immediately expected (to the placid feedback howls of “Iron Maiden” and the cyberpunk motorway music of “The Driving Rain (18),” respectively). And miraculously enough these shifts always feel like they make sense, even like they’re building to something. Mandy, Indiana are still a pretty young band; 2021’s … EP was a thrilling and promising debut, and i’ve seen a way is a lot more than that. If they keep improving (and expanding) at this rate, the prospect of what that might do is almost a little scary. Overwhelming, even.

Ian Mathers

[underachievers-please-try-harder]

Track of the day // Mandy, Indiana - Pinking Shears

From the album I’ve Seen A Way, out May 19th via Fire Talk.

[knightofleo]

Mandy, Indiana | Injury Detail

[katacala]

on s'étonne de s'faire baiser

[kensatou]

i'll let phie-san say it:

[a1sart]

if there's one thing this last episode has affirmed for me about Alastor it's that he FUCKING HATES being reminded that he's not the most powerful creature in hell.

Like, he hates being ignored by Carmilla when she says she doesn't care why he was gone

He hates Lucifer ON SIGHT

He threatens to KILL Husk when he dares to mention that Alastor is working for someone more powerful than him

and now this.

Alastor freaking out because he almost died. Something almost killed him. He can fucking die. There is something more powerful than him out there. And it's not something he can ignore or brush off because it almost killed him.

Alastor hates the reminder that he's not as powerful as he tells people he is. He isn't indestructible, he isn't invincible. And he fucking hates that.

[adamnagaitits]

[c---crow]

followers who have had/are looking to get top surgery!!! i highly recommend thinking about scar mobilization. many times a scar after soft tissue surgery will feel "stiff" or "stuck." this is because in scar tissue, the soft tissue layers partially fuse together:

luckily this can be reversed at least partially most of the time through massage. once the wound is completely scarred over, you can begin to gently but firmly massage across the scar with 2-3 fingers in up and down, side to side, and clockwise/counterclockwise circular motions (more repetitions than i'm doing here), you can also gently pull the scar if it's not painful:

[video id: me briefly demonstrating on my scars how to do the scar massage. i place two fingers directly on top of the scar tissue and massage with light pressure in motions described above. /end id]

start with very light pressure and increase as time goes on. this should never be painful, only sometimes feeling that "tight" feeling. again, the wound must be COMPLETELY scarred over, no scabs whatsoever. but you can start massaging as soon as that happens.

you can do these as often as you like as long as it's not painful, but once or twice a day for maybe 5 minutes is definitely enough

[amaurylandia]

(​ノ​>​ω​<​)​ノ :​。​・​:​*​:​・​゚​’​★​,​。​・​:​*​:​♪​・​゚​’​☆

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[yesokayiknow]

i feel like it'll help non brits to know that davina mccall irl presents a show where she connects adopted people with their bio families btw

[knightofleo]

Mandy, Indiana | Drag [Crashed]

[reckonslepoisson]

... (2021), I’ve Seen a Way (2023), Mandy, Indiana

I cannot be arsed to concoct a visual image of the place to which Mandy, Indiana’s music transports, but there’s a cohesive, thorough atmosphere and mood to this group’s music which is certainly worth tuning in for. Muscular, filthy and nightmarish but also cool and trendy. That sort of vibe.

Pick(s): ‘Alien 3’, ‘The Driving Rain (18)’

[theeverlastingshade]

i’ve seen a way- Mandy, Indiana

Given all the understandable skepticism around the "indie sleaze revival" discourse, it would have been easy to assume that Mode/Actriz's now already classic debut, Dogsbody, was simply an outlier, and not necessarily indicative of any larger, artistically inspired new trend. Indie sleaze may not have any legs in 2023, but dance punk is starting to have a moment. Enter Mandy, Indiana, a Manchester 4 piece consisting of drummer Alex MacDougall, synth player Simon Catling, guitarist Scott Fair, and vocalist Valentine Caulfield. M, I make music that splits the difference between noise rock, post-punk, and dance punk, and they wouldn't have sounded too far removed from the DFA warehouse scene nor Brooklyn's noise scene of the early to mid aughts. M, I are far weirder and more abrasive than most of the music that scans as indie sleaze, and while there's more than a hint of that scene's visceral spirit imbued in their DNA it's used in service of more inspired ends. Last month M, I released their debut LP, i've seen a way, and it's a superb fusion of all of their disparate, volatile influences that doesn't sound like the work of anyone else making music right now. So much of the thrill of isaw comes from the way these unpredictable songs feel like they could combust at any moment, but never do. While isaw is a bit of a grower, it's without question one of the best debut LPs of the year so far.

The 11 songs on isaw segue into one another so seamlessly that the album moves like one piece of music. From the soft-swelling synth chords that set the stage on opening cut "Love Theme (4K VHS)" to the militaristic floor tom rhythm that shapes closer "Sensitivity Training", the album unfolds with its own peculiar logic and sense of momentum but is all the better for it. Sonically speaking, these songs are uniformly dreary and caustic, all corroded minor chord melodies colliding with claustrophobic production. But peel back the foreboding veneer, and the ingenuity underneath quickly reveals itself. The aforementioned opener is more analog synth interlude than actual song, and once its lush sound waves dissipate "Drag (Crashed)" kicks things off in earnest. A procession of polyrhythms and sour synths erupt through the mix, and within short order Valentine's voice enters the fold. Pummeling yet danceable rhythms set against harsh synths/guitars, chilling field recordings, and a hypnotic vocal line is more or less the modus operandi here, but every time you think you have M, I pinned down they pivot to some other strain of unsettling music. This may understandably strike some as disjointed, but to my ears it rings closer to controlled chaos. The less rigid your conventions for how dance music and noise music are supposed to unfold, the easier it is to appreciate M, I's singular charms.

Valentine Caulfield sings in French throughout all of their music, but you don't need to understand a word that she's saying for her vocals to leave an evocative impression. Her tone and phrasing occasionally remind me of the deadpan drawl of Dry Cleaning's frontwoman, Florence Shaw, and at other times, like on mid-album interlude, "Mosaick", her delivery lands like shrapnel, bringing to mind kindred art rock iconoclasts like Merrill Garbus of Tune-Yards. She exudes far more range than one might glean at first glance, tastefully tweaking her approach in service of any given song instead of trying to bend them to her to own sensibilities. Valentine's writing skews leftist, depicting matters of class revolution, encroaching fascism, and environmental degradation with an unwavering focus that renders the band's seething soundscapes that much more inspired. There are plenty of potent lyrics throughout isaw, but the record's (and honestly the band's writ large) mission statement arrives on "Pinking Shears" with "I'm tired, you don't know what I'm tired of/This shitty world has worn me out/I've been broke for years/Damn, I'm tired/There's no way to be positive/Nothing makes me want to continue in this filthy society". It's an incredibly raw, and refreshing sentiment that lays out her point of view with an unmistakable, infectious urgency. While they may feel like the walls are closing in, the possibilities for M, I, at this moment, feel boundless.

Essentials: "Pinking Shears", “Injury Detail”, “Peach Fuzz”