#industrial music was around way before techno

[longlivedelusion]

In The Heat of the Moment

A little drabble cause my friends had a small home rave today and there was a hottie there and let's just say it gave me inspo for a Bucky smut? Not really smut. Spice? lmao.

So here we are. Not proofread, wrote this in my phone and am just posting it as is. Will maybe review later idk.

Summary: club time with the Avengers and you're a horny bih who wants Bucky, but Bucky doesn't give you the time of day. Or so you think. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: minors DNI, mentions of oral and general sexual encounters, enter at your discretion cause this is just me and my little horny ass wanting a club moment😭 No use of Y/N

Enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~~~

The music was loud where we were, I couldn't hear anything but the beat pounding as a sea of strangers swirled around me.

The team had all decided on a night out, something to take the edge off after a particularly hard mission. But being the Avengers, well... There's always someone somewhere taking photos or gawking. We couldn't just, be.

That's until a certain God of Mischief had the great idea of using his magic to disguise us. We could still see eachother as we were, but everyone else saw just a bunch of random strangers. No Captain America, no Thor, no Bucky Barnes.

So we came to one of Nat's favourite spots, an underground techno club on the industrial side of the city that was exactly what we all needed.

Dark. Loud music. Drinks. No thoughts, just our bodies, the sound and everything else in between. Whatever we needed to let off some steam.

But as much as dancing was doing wonders, my body slick with sweat as ran my hands up past my waist, body bouncing in tune with the sound, I wanted more. Needed more.

And there was only one man who I wanted to give it to me. Bucky fucking Barnes. But unfortunately, said man sat by the bar and had never really given me the time of day outside of normal mission stuff. We were great colleagues, but fuck if I didn't want him to use all that focus, all that drive he had when it came to pounding his enemies to focus it on pounding into me.

So I just danced, eyes trying and failing to not meet the corner of the bar where I knew he was. Sipping his drink as he slowly bounced to the music, Steve right beside him as they talked about something. I didn't let my eyes linger long enough to make out what they were even looking at.

So I kept dancing, closing my eyes and feeling the way the music traveled over me. Imagining it was Bucky's hands instead. Letting my breath get a little bit heavier as I did.

I suddenly felt hands at my waist, unfamiliar ones that made me turn suddenly. Some random guy had come up, a small grin on his face as he bounced along with me. I raised my brow a second, definitely not in the mood for some random guy's attention no matter how horny I . might've been. I was ready to move him aside before I felt a large presence behind me.

"Get the fuck off her." I heard Bucky say, his voice somehow just clear enough over the loudness of the club.

I saw the man retreat with his hands up, eyes wide as he saw the predatory glance towards him. While he backed up, I turned towards Bucky, already frowning. "I could've handled that you know."

He crossed his arms, his body close.

Closer than usual.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But just wanted to make sure you were alright. S'all. " He watched me, an anger in his eyes usually reserved for special moments in battle - moments with HYDRA agents.

Before he could step away, I grabbed his arm. "Wait," I said. "Stay. Dance."

He tries to protest, but I got closer to his body now, slowly bouncing to the beat as he stilled, eyes wide. "Please." I breathed out, eyes gazing up at him. I don't know if was the darkness, the aninimoty of the night, the way my body tingled at his nearness, but I was gonna try to go for it. Needed to. I couldn't just sit around pining and feeling the way I did and not do shit about it. I was an Avenger for gods sake -- I could flirt.

"Alright." I heard him say, taking me out of my trance as his hand snaked around my waist slowly, hesitantly. His touch was featherlight, like he was afraid of going too far as he matched the rhythm with me.

I started to run my fingers up his arms, curious, exploratory. To see if he was just being polite with this or if there could be something more. I felt his grip tighten just a hint before he pulled me in closer, his head against mine as his mouth grazed past my ear, his breath hot against me.

We moved like that a while, bodies shifting to the music, my hands growing bolder across his shoulders, his back, his hair. I let my head fall back as he held me, closing my eyes as I let the feeling overwhelm me. The feeling of him, the sound, the lights. All overwhelming me in the most delicious way.

I felt his movements stutter, opening my eyes again to see his own reflected back at me -- pupils blown and mouth partially opened as I watched him take me in. A hunger and desperation in his eyes that I knew well, because I knew it was reflected right back at him.

I tentatively reached for his jaw, thumbs grazing over his lips as he sucked in a breath. My logical brain decided to show up for a split second then -- I was being careless, our team was close by and his was my coworker, this was so public and stupid and-

He was leaning in. His mouth so close to mine as his eyes took me in, "Tell me to stop." He said, lips just hovering mine. Waiting. Teasing.

My mind stilled. "Please," was all I could breathe out.

The next moment I was on fire, his lips quenching a thirst I'd been settling in for the months since I'd known him. A thirst I thought would never be satiated. I'd craved, so desperately, this man for so long and in this moment, his lips on mine, I knew. I'd never want them to leave again.

I moved my body to his, pressed so deeply into him that I felt each crevice and movement of his against mine. I felt him shift, his clear arousal now pressed against my thigh. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past and grazing over mine.

I was in hell, in the most blissful, heavenly pits of hell there was because god this man could fucking kiss. And I don't think I would ever want to kiss anyone again after this. I couldn't.

His hands started to grow more confident, his touch hungry as if he could feel the fire too, like we were two torches dancing together desperate for more oxygen.

I pulled away, hands trailing down his body as I took him in. "Bucky, I need you." I practically whined. I'd never whined in my life, but right now I could care less. I needed this man, religiously.

"Fuck," his grip tightened on my body, pressing me even harder into him. "Where, how?" He started looking around, assessing the situation like this was one of our missions.

I grabbed his jaw and pulled his gaze back to me, leaning up and over to his ear. "Bathroom on the right. Follow behind me but don't make it too obvious. I'll be inside waiting for you." I pulled back just enough so I could see his face, "I'll be the one on my knees."

I heard the intake of breath before I could register what happened next. His lips crashing into mine as he groaned into my mouth, taking me rougher than before. He pulled back panting, his body looking like it was fighting a war to do so, and he gave me a long look that had me nearly buckle my knees.

"You've got 5 minutes. And you better be ready for me 'cause that mouth isn't the only thing getting worshipped tonight doll."

He pulled off, pushing me forward towards the bathroom. He stood there, arms crossed as he assessed me from behind.

God was I in for it.

Part Two

[dokidokitsuna]

Felt like showing off the "redesigns" of the Grand Festival outfits that I did for my most recent Today's Work video. I just wanted to see how they'd look with some colors on 'em...and they are nice. ^^ Of course, if/when I do actual redesigns, they'll be a lot more effortful than this...

I've been enjoying the Grand Festival so far, I think. Walking around the grounds and listening to the concerts is surprisingly mesmerizing; they really nailed the ambiance. ^^ It was fun scrolling Twitter during my lunch break yesterday and watching everyone scream about the merch (that they can't have) and the idols (that they've already seen performing a million times before). ^^;;; If there's one defining feature of Splatoon's fanbase, I'd say it's unbridled joy and enthusiasm~.

I think it also goes to show that building an intricate, believable 3D environment can do a lot to make players feel immersed and included, even if they can't really interact with anything. The "Cheer" and "Bounce" etc. options are also great examples of 'a little goes a long way'; they're extremely cute. ^^ I wish we had them for earlier Splatfests...

There's just one little detail of this celebration that nags at me though, to be honest...Splatoon composers, blink twice if you need help. (⊙_⊙;;;)

When I realized that they did new arrangements for the concert performances, AND some of the in-game music, AND the victory and loss music...I began to feel something I call 'consumer's guilt'. :/

Like, of course we should get lots of special music for the Special final Splatfest, but it's been like this for the whole 2 years...special music for every holiday Splatfest, special music from the splatbands for the new seasons, random single drops from the idols throughout the year, dozens of tracks just for Side Order...considering the amount of time and effort that goes into composing and producing just one song it's hard for me to believe that they've had any time to rest, or even to just work at a reasonable pace.

It's only natural for this constant demand for content to take a toll on the quality of their work, and I feel that it has...interestingly, though, I feel the lowest-quality tracks are the earliest ones. '_' Like, splatoonwiki.org has a music page, where the music for each game is separated into sections...and the Multiplayer section for Splatoon 3 is the only one that I have no interest in opening. That is to say, the music we hear most often, while playing the main attraction of the game itself, is in my opinion 90% forgettable slop.

Back when the unofficial soundtrack first came out and I listened to the first 2 hours during a long commute, I remember being really disappointed that not even one C-Side song resonated with me...and the rest to follow weren't much better. To this day, every time some Splatoon battle music gets stuck in my head, it's always something from 1 or 2 (i.e. the games I never played ^^;) I can't even recall what 3's battle music sounds like on command...I hear it every day, and yet it all just slides right off my brain. Even the tracks from established splatbands...none of their 'new' stuff hits the same.

If I had to guess, the composers knew very far ahead of time all the stuff they would have to do, and decided to rush through the generic squid-rock to focus on the interesting stuff. If I had both Deep Cut's and C-Side's music on my schedule, I know which one I would want to devote the most time to. And if I had to develop a totally new sound for Free Association (the entity responsible for the music in Side Order, reflecting its surreal techno-industrial vibes) and H2Whoa (a random new splatband that only exists to ring in Drizzle Season 2023) I know which project would be more interesting to me, and inspire more creative choices.

...In a perfect world, though, ALL the music could be of similar quality and creativity, because they wouldn't have to make so much so often! >_< I mean, I know music is central to Splatoon's identity (it's what got me into the series in the first place) but I feel like things are getting out of hand...something about this constant deluge of new music doesn't feel sustainable. I've seen composer burnout before, and because music is so important to this franchise, I'd hate to see it happen here...

[chevvy-yates]

*Ding Dong* Guten Tag, Boro mein Name. Haben sie vielleicht ein paar Minuten Zeit, um über ihre Blorbos zu reden?

One for everyone, but just answer those you like, no pressure!

Vijay: 43 // Jaysen: 49 // Ryder: 2 // Thyjs: 41 // Hizumi: 32 // Falco: 20 

:D

43. Do they prefer day or night?

Vijay prefers day as he feels he gets more private stuff done even though he's not an early bird (wakes up mostly around 1pm). Nighttime for him means mostly work — merc work. There are day work exceptions tho. You can say he's comfortable with both but still he would always prefer daytime over night time.

49. What's their favorite store to be in? Least favorite?

Jay's favorite store to be in is practically any store that sells awesome cars. He will be inspecting every car and even think about what could be the best way to steal one of them. His least favorite store is anything that sells healthy products.

2. A sound they find irritating

The sound deers are making. They are such cute and even majestic creatures and then they do this.

41. What kind of exercise do they most enjoy/need?

Thyjs needs his daily dosage of Militech soldier training. When he gets up first he does is go jogging. Also trains with a box sack to practise his dodging but that isn't enough for an Ex-Militech and KCT soldaat! So either he goes alone or with Ryder or even Arki and does some assault course he and the boys built up in an empty industrial site to stay fit. Often they train together and exercise so they stay skilled and fit for merc work. Thyjs though is the one who trains most and each day.

32. What is their ideal work environment in terms of light, sounds, other people, etc.?

Hizumi's ideal work environment is definitely not down in the streets. They prefer to work and operate from roofs and other higher points so they can overlook everything. It's mainly because they don't feel safe on the ground in Night City. Rooftops give them some shelter so whenever Hizumi works on something (also counts for training) they do it on a rooftop. Light is not really needed and sounds are less noisy on the roof as well. They are not in need of other people but they do enjoy when e.g. Ryder joins them for sword fight practise as both use blades (Ry is only mantis tho, while Hizumi wields katana/tanto).

20. A song that instantly transports them back to a certain memory.

That would be this song:

Falco is, like Ryder, a Techno(ise) connoisseur and he went to his first techno(ise) party in his teens already (unlike Ryder) and this song is one of the first one that sucked him into this world for real. It made him start wanting to create his own music and in general he's got lots of good memories of partying in Cologne to this song. Even today it's on his playlist as the last played song before he goes off the stage.

[we-can-be-heroes]

1, 2, 4, 6? 📚

2) What are 2-5 already published nonfiction books you think you want to read in 2023?

Ok so I’m waiting for this one to arrive and I’m extremely excited :

And my dream is to read this one entirely :

She passed away in 2016 and her writings have not been published in years… I’m a bit of a paper fetishist (especially for people I adore) so of course I want the physical version 😭 but I’m afraid it might be hard to find and most of all very expensive. So either I keep waiting for a miracle either I accept to read the pdf version hehe…!

And finally these two :

These also are two very rare books I plan on finding and buying lol 🥲 ! These were supposed to be a triptych/trilogy but life is hard and making books costs money so unfortunately it didn’t happen. The first volume is about the international post-punk, cold wave, techno-pop, dark folk, gothic rock, electronic, EBM, industrial metal scenes, basically all the related movements that have appeared since the 70’s etc……. And the second volume apparently tackles the….French gothic scene ??? As well as other francophone gothic scenes such as the Swiss, Belgian and Luxembourgish, which I don’t know shit about. As far as I know these are THE MOST COMPLETE publications about the subject written in French !!!!

4) Do you plan to read any genres you haven't read much before?

Hummmm as funny/crazy as it sounds I’ve never read any horror novels lol ! (Except for Carrie when I was a preteen) I watch horror, I read horror mangas, horror comics, even theorical/philosophical stuff about horror in magazines but no horror novels. Reading horror novels sound way scarier than any of the other stuff I listed that contain CLEAR IMAGES 😭 ! But I’m ready and would like to give it a shot. Other than that any good books that contain magical realism ? English Gothic Literature, French romantisme noir. And more theorical/philosophical/scientific stuff about subjects I care about !

6) Do you have any conceptual reading goals?

E.g., I plan to read books on food history.

Yes absolutely, as you can see in the previous book choices & the answer just above, I would like to read more theorical essays about music genres and their historical and political aspects, same goes for genre cinema, and the different themes and recurring patterns found there .

But also more books about cultural studies and critical theory. A few years ago for a long time I was going through a very strong feeling of DÉSIDENTIFICATION (disidentification) which was painful at the time, but also freeing ! [ I am still and constantly going through it tbh but in a very less violent way, the freeing part is starting to kick in hehe !] so, I was saying this word constantly to talk about how I felt and I ended up doing research and learning that this term had already been invented/theorized by someone called José Esteban Muñoz, in his very first book :

It made me very emotional to know that someone had written an entire book around the topic lol and now I really want to read it ! I found myself wrapped in feelings of unbelonging since forever so I’m always very attracted to and interested in what other people may have said or thought about these matters.

I will probably go through these rollercoasters of identification and disidentification my whole entire life but that’s also what makes it exciting and interesting and worth living I guess !

Not being able to categorize and decrypt you easily or at all is something that always enrages aaaaaaaall types of people ! And this is something I absolutely love and hate and find very interesting.

Pissing of and disturbing people by my very existence has always been my little specialty ! At some point I even started cultivating this by trying to scare people (through my art, looks, and unconsciously, probably, some aspects of my personality and life ““choices”” such as isolation) as an attempt to protect myself and free myself from this weight loool ! Which in my experience really isn't always a good idea, and once again is as liberating as it is painful !! For myself and others !!

Partly for all these reasons i have always been very drawn to the idea of “monstrosity” and have identified with monsters in art for as long as I remember so I’m always very happy to come across writings/books about this ! (if any of you have any recommendations btw don’t hesitate 🤍 ! Except for Paul B. preciado’s book that I have already heard about)

Anyway !!! So yeah basically I want to read these 5 books 😂😂😂….The only link I see between them is the idea of community that I have loved and hated and loved and hated and LOVED again 🔄🔄🔄🔄🔄♾️♾️♾️ and that I keep deconstructing and reconstructing perpetually !!!!

Thank you very much for the very interesting questions, loved answering these and sorry if « 2023 book ask » might have turned into « over sharing » ?? I just thought that it was related, and wanted to explain the book choices !

Have a great night !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[dustedmagazine]

Helen Money and Will Thomas — Trace (Thrill Jockey)

Photo by Jim Newberry

Trace by Helen Money/Will Thomas

Trace brings together experimental cellist and composer Alison Chesley (i.e. Helen Money) with the soundtrack composer Will Thomas for a thrilling set of atmospheric soundscapes. These 11 tracks range from spare explorations of the cello’s natural sound to dystopian techno architectures in a sequence that, per Thomas’ background, sustains a tense narrative drama.  It’s mood music for the sci fi action movie in your head.

Chesley and Thomas have worked together before, but never in such a sustained way. Trace’s expansive palette suggests that they have just begun to explore their points of intersection. The disc opens with “Someone Out There,” a moody concoction of low-end tone washes and bell-like scrapings. Across this looming, atmospheric background, big arcs of bowed cello sound swagger, a classical, almost baroque timbre in a sea of post-industrial alienation. The cello sounds very much like a cello in many of these cuts, the unaccompanied “Abandon,” in particular but elsewhere as well. It is often caught up, however, in a bracing, rhythmic club-strobed rush. These songs soothe and accelerate your pulse, sometimes in such close succession that it’s hard to pinpoint where the shift occurred.

“Thieves,” an early single, pounds a booming techno rhythm, filtering in heavily altered, processed voices and an agitated cadence of cello. The cut punches and pulses in a visceral way. “Tilt,” similarly, swallows string sounds in the buzz and clangor of industrial rock. It hisses with static and crackles with electricity. Everything is super charged, shocking and ominous.

Yet there are also quiet, contemplative intervals, like “Half Asleep” with its plinking high piano and long, luxurious bowings. The notes build as Chesley plays them, swelling up to fill the space allowed, as piano keys blink on and off in the background. “Half Awake” is likewise lyrical with ruminative chords in piano, answered by cello musings.

A few cuts balance these impulses, like “Trace” with its baroque, dancing cello motif that snaps with sudden discords, and throbs with rich, vibrato ease. Yet there’s an adrenaline rush in the way that the piano pounds a note until it turns into a rhythmic engine and the swirl of cello whirls around skittering beat and occasional bottom-dropping crashes. It’s nervy and beautiful, restless and ever circling, a bubble of anticipation baked into the way it hits your ear and brain. and a piano playing one note over and over until it’s just a pulse.  

In 2020, Dusted’s Jonathan Shaw reviewed Money’s Atomic, calling out its “bracing beauty and vulnerable immediacy.” That’s all here as well but add to it a bit of cinematic suspense and driving narrative. Trace thrives in a state of motion and excitement, flaring like a spy movie from action to contemplation to moody resolution.  

Jennifer Kelly

[panasonicthehedgehog]

sonic characters and their music tastes

this has certainly been done before but i thought it would be fun! the characterisation is mostly based on sonic boom and some of the games. just doing these five to start with :)

sonic

he likes stuff that makes him feel happy! i know he likes speed metal (according to sonic boom), but i think he also likes some rap, some feel-good rock, and some techno.

however, although he outwardly says he doesn't like sad music or anything that reminds him of traumatic events in the past, i think he sometimes likes to stew in his emotions a bit. only when he's by himself though! showing emotional vulnerability around others is "for suckers".

tails

i think tails has the most eclectic music taste out of everyone. whatever blends into the background while he's tinkering with stuff - this includes death metal, britney spears, and the weirdest electronic music you've ever heard. i think there's some things he wouldn't like, because it's either boring or it triggers some of his sensory issues.

knuckles

knuckles listens to metallica lol. i think everybody shows him different genres, and whatever it is, he'll enjoy it. shadow tries to get him to branch out into other metal bands that he thinks knuckles will like (like judas priest), but knuckles basically just puts on his one metallica CD whenever he wants to listen to music.

amy

i thought about this for a long while, and i think amy listens to a combination of classical music and pop music around others (both of which she does actually enjoy!)... and listens to death grips by herself. it's not that she's embarrassed, she just sometimes needs punch things or scream into pillows while blasting i've seen footage, and she doesn't really want to do that around other people.

shadow

everybody always says emo. i don't think shadow is opposed to some mcr, but i think he's more of an industrial girlie. he likes KMFDM and ministry and combichrist.

shadow knows what music genres are and he knows which ones he likes, and he can often recommend bands to other people. sonic's preferred way of listening to music - "whatever isn't a lame cryfest" - somewhat infuriates him.

[vinyls-and-valentines]

for the asks thing, do you have any OCs? sorry I can't really think of anything else to ask

I do! I don't talk about them much outside like. When people ask me if they do exist, but all in all they're usually somewhere in the background of my Danger Days universe even when not mentioned. Currently the roster is:

Dead Don't Testify, SHAUT, Baba Yaga:

Young zone bands started somewhere in the latter years of what I call "the Killjoys Era" (2013-2019) and contemporary with most canon zone bands I usually mention except for Massive/Awesome and Cold Dead Hands. Unlike canon bands, though, they fizzle out quite quickly, all either breaking up or getting ghosted by 2023.

Toybox

Lobby droid band that plays something between techno and industrial metal, made up exclusively from samples of old pre-war cartoons. They play at The Lounge, the Lobby's most infamous bar hidden in the shell of what once was a large clothing department store, and always bring with them really cyber-punk meets scene looking fake instruments.

Tray, the Zone 5 ghost

How they became a ghost? Who knows! It's hard to say when they even died, but they have been stuck between planes since long before even the Phoenix Witch and that, sadly, has its consequences. Tray does not remember who they are, and is slowly fading away because of it, but whenever there's someone starting a fire, they always feel drawn to it. Not many 'joys are quite fond of amnesiac ghosts who can only speak of pre-war literature, though.

Acid Angel

1/3 of a supernatural hunting club and amateur radio host. Xyr station only ever airs at night, because that's when only White Noise (juvie station) used to be on and it all just felt so empty, xe couldn't stand it. This does mean xyr eyeshadow often hides bags that go on for miles, but killjoys are supposed to live on liquid heartattck anyways, right? Knocking out cold for 12 hours for every other day is totally normal. Xe is the only person who's ever reaally bothered to remember Tray, even if only by the character they talk about or act out for xem.

Graveyard Storyteller & Unicorn Skin

The other 2/3s of the supernatural hunting club. Graveyard is the opposite of a vulture, in that instead of finding and collecting the possessions of the dead to deliver to the mailbox, lost possessions of people gone missing end up on his and Unicorn's doorstep. Sometimes he knows exactly where the items need to be delivered to, otherwise it takes a while, testamony being the boxes of random things neatly stacked on a shelf in the storage room. Unicorn is usually the one to do the deliveries as it is a. part of her job as a handyperson/courrier, and b. he knows her brother is stubborn as fuck and has no common sense, meaning he'll try to go outside although it hurts him to do so and might very well needlessly further worsen his eyesight.

The Finch Sisters

A pair of identical twins, called Anne and Maria Finch, who've been 14 ever since 2009-ish iirc and run most of the distribution for band merch and zines in the Zones. They can be found every 2 weeks outside Tommy Chow Mein's shopfront in Zone 3, a.k.a the Paradise Motel, and are really the only ones allowed to loiter like that in the premise of any TCM store. They go missing the night Baterry City falls.

Dead Silence (ex-Neon Ghost)

Exists in the gray area between persona and an OC. The Zones best worst guide ever— they cannot give out directions for shit, but somehow xe still knows the most obscure of locations. They move around a lot, as is the way of tumbleweeds, and they mostly get around by finding stuff for people or doing long and tedious tasks like patching up holes in clothing.

The American Suitehearts

A group of juvie halls who share themes with the characters from Fall Out Boy's American Suitehearts music video, and who end up as an administrative group, almost, to a juvie outpost in post-Killjoys/neo-Killjoys era (2020-2027) Outer Zone 1. This is mostly spearheaded by Donnie and xyr general involvement with Lobby wizards (tech-savvy folk with a foot in the proverbial back door of BLi's archives), though it's not exactly like any of the others were opposed to xyr proposition when xe caught them up to speed on what was going on behind the curtains. The outpost is where The Girl hides for about 6 years, after running away from WKIL and ultimately how she returns in the Zones inhabited by killjoys.

Fate

I guess She also counts? But She is quite literally Fate, much less in the way of 'ones destiny is pre-determined from birth' and more in the way of the entity that runs the cosmic lottery every time someone makes a decision that affects more than just themselves

[boonesfarmsangria]

Bunkering down from the chaos to make an album full of light, ‘Life Is Yours’ was written as a rousing statement of hope. Back with thousands of fans once more, Foals are ready to reap its rewards.

“When we got to Brixton Academy, I said, ‘Isn’t it weird that, for the first five years of the band, this was the pinnacle of our touring?’” considers Yannis Philippakis. “Brixton used to be the highlight of the tour, but though it was a really special show the other night - it meant a lot - it was by no means the pinnacle of the scale.”

Sat in the dressing room of an industrial studio bunker in the arse end of North London, the Foals frontman is taking a break between filming takes for a raft of live performance videos that he, guitarist Jimmy Smith and drummer Jack Bevan are shooting today. Though the video aesthetic itself is sleek and minimal, the production is anything but, with dozens of bodies running around to bring the vision to life. Much like everything Foals do these days, the scale is large; if the previous weekend’s 5,000-capacity Brixton Academy show felt relatively intimate, it’s because it comes at the end of a run that’s seen the now-trio play to 40,000 fans in London alone.

Perhaps the most notable thing about Foals’ most recent slay round the country is that, these days, giant swarms of crowds feel par for the course. Having cut their teeth igniting the mid-‘00s house party circuit nearly two decades ago, these days they stand as one of the UK’s most celebrated live bands, but one who’ve kept that same feral spirit intact. Though the frontman describes feeling “comfortable” and “fully in command” of playing arenas now, there’s no acquiescence to comfort to be found anywhere near the stage. Still flinging himself into crowds and getting in the throng of it all, no one seems as happy to have live music back as Yannis.

“I said to someone after one of the shows last week, when we play ‘What Went Down’ in particular, there’s something about that song, and something about being free of the guitar at the end, where it feels like it just shouldn’t be taking place…” he chuckles with a glint in his eye. “It’s just too much; it’s like a cartoon villain with electricity going through them, that’s how I feel. At the moment, they light everything red during that song and it just feels like Battlefield Z or whatever that film is with the zombies. It feels like a boxing ring a bit, when they lower the [lights] and you’re penned in. It just looks crazy.”

Having spent the majority of 2020 and 2021 “jumping rope for an hour a day” to release the pent up tension (“At show time, there’d be phantom show energy where I’d just be terrified for anyone in my vicinity and they’d be like, ‘Do you just want to go do something with yourself and get out the way?’” he jokes), the frontman speaks of returning to the stage with the same mix of happiness and relief as returning to a loved one.

“Just getting to watch how Foals crowds are, it looks fucking amazing; it’s a joy to watch the crowd watching the show,” he enthuses. “It’s havoc out there but it’s blissful. There are all sorts of people, all wearing t-shirts from different eras, and it’s cool because none of this could have been there - this could all have been gone. The fact that the thing we love the most felt deeply under threat meant that we’re obviously coming at it now with a renewed appreciation.”

And tangled up beautifully within that sentiment, crafted as a means of hope and escape, comes seventh album ‘Life Is Yours’: the most uplifting, buoyant reach for communion and positivity that Foals have created yet.

Back in the earliest days of the band, Yannis recalls being taken to techno shows for the first time by former keyboardist Edwin Congreave (who left to return to education before work on the new record began). Inspired by his experiences, alongside genre-smashing artists like LCD Soundsystem and The Rapture, it was this idea that first invigorated Foals to concoct their own hybrid, the manifesto of trying to “make dance music with guitars” forming the background of celebrated 2008 debut ‘Antidotes’.

In many ways, ‘Life Is Yours’ harks back to that formative spirit. Purposefully eschewing the monstrous riffs that have peppered their recent albums, the band’s seventh is more dance-indebted and limber, from the bubbling falsetto funk strut of ‘2001’ to the bouncing synth pads that underpin ‘Under The Radar’.

“I think it’s probably a reaction to the fact that we wrote every type of song we possibly could on [previous double album] ‘Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost’, and it felt like such a wide spectrum across the two records in a way where we kind of wanted to deny ourselves certain things [this time],” Yannis suggests. “We wanted to write a record that has rhythm and edge, but that didn’t have fuzz pedals and screaming. So we thought, let’s write a dancey record that feels cohesive and is joyous and celebratory.” He pauses. “It’s not like we’ve written a record for a bouncy castle or something. There is depth…”

The depth perhaps comes from the way the trio approached their take on musical affirmation. Bubbling up during the second lockdown in a windowless room that the singer describes as “absolutely no frills, zero comfort”, the music Foals were making might have been conceived as an antidote to the external Covid wilderness but, as Yannis attests, “it wasn’t very party in the bunker”. “There was a corrugated iron grill we had the keys to, and there was no light and no windows, and we’d just play for seven hours a day, five days a week,” he explains. “We’ve never written in an opulent environment. We write in a way that feels very spartan where there’s no comfort other than in the music. There’s not even a couch or anything, absolutely no frills, and it’s small so you’re tight to each other.”

“When we were writing the album in that little room, I wasn’t really thinking in terms of the today-reality of the band; I was thinking about how fun it was to play at those tiny house parties we used to play at,” adds Jack. “I wasn’t thinking about having a dance party in front of 40,000 people, it’s more like, let’s imagine this with a low ceiling in a dark basement where the music is really loud. That whole era was really exciting and I think when you lose sight of your roots and where you came from, then you’re just another band trying to make massive tunes.”

Though Yannis, Jack and Jimmy now stand as a bona fide BRIT Award-winning, chart-topping entity who’ll this month take one of Glastonbury’s highest spots, headlining The Other Stage on Friday night, there’s still the overriding sense that Foals are, at their heart, the same band they’ve always been. They’re one of the last survivors of one of the last generations to break through without the pressures of social media, and there remains a sort of uncensored spirit to the band that still feels raw and uncontrived and increasingly rare.

“When we were starting out, the way of making your band a great band was in the everyday, and then the appendage was that maybe you set up a Myspace page or something,” Yannis says. “The online presence was very much a latter afterthought at that point, and so it meant that you had to conjure up excitement and energy in the here and now, and for us that was playing every show like it’s our last. We weren’t even thinking that there was gonna be a career in it, because there was a healthy DIY scene that was rewarding in and of itself. And then shortly after, lots of things migrated online and bands became more self conscious.”

“A few times over the years, I’ve met kids in bands and they’ve said, ‘How do you get big?’ and it grosses me out so much as a question,” Jack notes. “Do the thing you like and enjoy it, and if you’re good enough, people will like it.” “The only way it’s bearable is if you actually like doing it; if you’re just trying to do it [for fame] then it’s just horrible,” Jimmy grimaces.

“Coming back to these shows, there’s a pride at how many people were there and the fact that people held their tickets for two and a half years and they’re as excited as ever. Lots of bands’ lifespans are about two and a half years…” Yannis notes, by way of comparison. “I would question my sense of self without the group and without playing music - it’s that fundamental for me. I don’t know who to be if I’m not making music, and a lot of it is being on stage. It does feel dangerous and electrifying, and it is fucking draining, but I live for it.”

In everything they do - from consigning themselves to a box room to write, to throwing themselves gleefully into a “physically draining” set night after night, to penning an album that throws a stylistic left-turn from their most successful release to date - Foals are still visibly committed to doing things not only the ‘proper’ way (read: no quick fixes), but in the way that works for them. They’re pleased with their more industry-centric successes as much as they feel they’re deserved. “If we never got any recognition of what we did then it would be annoying, but yeah, it’s cool. Big whoop,” Yannis deadpans when the subject of awards is raised. But more than ever, having watched it nearly slip out of their grasp, Foals just want to tear the roof off of every venue they step foot in and scorch an indelible mark.

Life is theirs and, seven albums in, Foals are still riding it into battle with as much vitality as ever.

DIY Magazine

‘Life Is Yours’ is out 17th June via Warner.

[auralpatterns]

well it's been a while on here! let's do a 2021 wrap-up of discoveries (from any year; people who think they can do an effective end-of-year wrapup of all releases that year as casual listeners are fooling themselves)

per RYM I've logged 212 new ratings:

| 2 at 5 stars |||| 21 at 4.5 stars |||||||||||| 59 at 4 stars |||||||||||||| 66 at 3.5 stars |||||||||| 47 at 3 stars ||| 14 at 2.5 stars | 1 at 2 stars | 2 at 1.5 stars (first ratings I've given this low since 2007)

One of the two 5-stars is a 90s single I've known for long and hadn't gotten around to rating before … so my best-rated find of the year is uncontestedly Arjen Schats, Manifolds (2021); classic Berlin School

The 4.5-ers:

Sergey Eybog: Everlasting Summer (Bright Side) (2013) – cool VGM, very sunny atmospheres. I have not played the game (apparently a visual novel actually)

Nigel Mullaney: The Navigator (2021) – versatile synthwork from a long-time Ian Boddy collaborator

U/V Light: Cenotaph (2015) – hella catchy retro synthpop; 5 stars for the opener "Arriviste"

V/A / Lucky Lotus label: Journey to the Stars (2016) – four-hour orbital strike of J-core / J-trance / allies. I got this in 2018 already but eh it was back in its day a major stimulant for me get my thesis finished and all, might as well leave it a shoutout here

Material Object: Indiana Drones (2013) – very ambient techno, dedicated to the late Pete Namlook

CFCF: Liquid Colors (2019) – the new savior of ambient d'n'b? not even in a meme way?

Curium: Aember (2007) – chill IDM from what I think of as the "netlabel side" of the genre: none of the drillcore 3avant5u aggression, just a honest interest in doing clever electronic music

Маяк: Река (2013), Вышеe звёзд (EP, 2014) – best synthwave find of the year. you may need to know something about East European 80s to get full nostalgy bonus from this

Holon: Connect | Isolate (2017), Echoes of the Void (2017) – a new breed of synth music entirely really; psybient techniques without the drugs, electro-industrial soundworld without the angst, space exploration without the analog fetish … to honor the trend of Really Dumb Genre Names I've decided this should be called "Uplifting Industrial"

Kashiwa Daisuke: april.#07 (2007) – modern electro-classical snippets; some fantastic, some eh

Doss: Doss (EP, 2014) – dream trance! it's not just for the 90s, even if kids these days for some reason get the core idea usually wrong completely *coughxd*

Penguin Cafe: Handfuls of Night (2019) – not the original Penguin Cafe Orchestra but an excellent "sequel band"; if you ever needed more Brian Eno in their work maybe

Aural Expansion: Surreal Sheep (1995) – kinda same deal as Aember above, more actively techno; might be better than the much-hyped 76:14. it is very cool when labels put their 90s or 00s back-catalogue, rarities and all, on Bandcamp

Floating Points: Bias (single, 2020) – some promising initial exploration into "future garage". I still have no idea what is the core sense of "garage" or if one even exists

Nanoray: Zapper (2021) – wherein it turns out that hardcore breaks is not just a new spelling for breakbeat hardcore and is actually a cooler new evolution. a lot of it is a bit over-memed but this one is just right for me

Martin Stürtzer: The Omarion Nebula (2020) – best ambient find of the year; artist mostly does somewhat less outstanding Berlin School

Zabutom: Zeta Force (Digitone Version) (single, 2021) – FM synth re-edit from Swedish chiptune legend's 2011 EP. more please

Tangerine Dream: Recurring Dreams (?? compilation, 2019) – new-generation lineup goes back to the basics forreal and puts out excellent advanced covers of their classic-era work. much better than similar attempts in earlier decades

Earth Trax: LP2 (2020) – I'm finally starting to find good clues / entrypoints into house; this one and several others found via @lamuyazimina (thx!)

[elitegymnastics]

Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. 

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz. 

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant. 

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did. 

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen. 

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

[theeverlastingshade]

Favorite Albums of the 10s

25. Shaking the Habitual- The Knife

The Knife made a name for themselves with their third and most celebrated LP, Silent Shout, but it’s their fourth LP, StH, that pushed their idiosyncratic blend of electroacoustic synth-pop to the furthest, most far-flung places that they’ve gone yet. The record deals with a diverse range of topics from the surveillance state, to fracking, pollution, gender discrimination, and unchecked greed with colorful, ketamine-fused candy cotton synth work and ritualistic percussion. There are long passages of ambience like the menacing build of “A Cherry on Top” dispersed between roaring apocalyptic dance numbers like the astonishing industrial eruption “Full of Fire” and the electro-acoustic freak out “Without You My Life Would Be Boring”. With the exception of the mid-album ambient epic “Old Dreams Waiting to Be Realized” every song on StH justifies its length with consistently engrossing arrangements that sustain their momentum without compromising an ounce of their potency. Everything about the record lives up to its title, from its thematic ambitions, to the breadth of the sonics, pacing, and performances themselves. StH if the full manifestation of the darkness that was lurking beneath the surface of their music from as early as their breakout single “Heartbeats”, but thankfully the music never collapses under the weight of their thematic concerns. Their resilience remains inspiring all these years later, and if Karin and Olof never reunite for a fifth LP we couldn’t have asked for a better send off.

Essentials: “Full of Fire”, “A Tooth for an Eye”, “A Cherry on Top”

24. XXX- Danny Brown

Hip-hop grew to remarkable heights throughout the 10s, and yet there were few rappers that displayed the level of growth and consistency from record to record throughout this past decade quite like Danny Brown. The Detroit native spent the aughts hustling the mixtape circuit, finally catching a spark with 2010’s The Hybrid, his strong debut LP. But a year later Brown returned with his sophomore LP and magnum opus XXX, a twisted rap odyssey that ignited the blogs, and signaled that a new era of hip hop was beginning to emerge. XXX found Brown rapping over an assortment of wonky boom-bap instrumentals courtesy of Bruiser Brigade producer Skywalker that fused classic hip-hop, trap, baroque pop, and techno into shapes far more disorienting than the beats that the vast majority of his contemporaries were rapping over. While it was evident beforehand, XXX really cemented the notion that Brown could rap over anything. The beats here are generally extremely impressive, and there are plenty of singular stylistic touches like the slurring violin stabs of “Lie 4”, the menacing synth lurch of “Monopoly”, or the distorted brass loops of closer “30”, that really stand out, but the appeal is first and foremost Brown’s rapping. His voice alone is one of the most versatile and unpredictable instruments in hip-hop, but aside from his masterful vocal alteration, always perfectly synched to the tone of any given moment on any given song of his, he’s a naturally gifted writer, as thoughtful as he is straight up hilarious. Whether bragging about his destructive lifestyle (“Die Like a Rockstar”), describing how much he loves cunnilingus “I Will”, mourning the desolation around him “Party All the Time”, or reveling in his come-up “30”, Brown is a thoroughly engaging presence throughout the entire album. On XXX profanity and profundity march gleefully hand in hand with one another, casting Brown as one of the last decade’s most singular voices.

Essentials: “Die Like a Rockstar”, “Monopoly”, “30”

23. House of Sugar- Alex G

On Alex G’s latest LP, House of Sugar, his concoction of warm guitar pop and warped electronic production reached a new peak. The songs on HoS detail the misdeeds of various characters succumbing to their greed, and the vignettes that he paints are growing increasingly well-realized thanks to a continuously sharpening songwriting voice and a plethora of tasteful pitch-shifted vocals that help imbue his characters with color and personality. HoS opener “Walk Away” provides a reasonably sonic barometer for what’s to come before dropping us into a series of the most immediate pop songs that he’s ever penned. “Hope” and “Southern Sky” are nimble acoustic guitar pop songs that are almost disarming in their immediacy, and framed around references to the real life death of a friend of his due to opioids and a dream he had, respectively. By the time we reach acoustic guitar and sitar-drone of “Taking” the pitch-shifted vocals are at the forefront of the music and HoS shifts gears into its abstract middle section which owes a lot to the new-age beat deconstruction of avant-garde electronic producers, specifically Oneohtrix Point Never. On the instrumental “Sugar”, a sublime concoction of pitch-warped whispers, dissonant strings arpeggios, and creeping acoustic guitar plucks, HoS reaches the depths of its depravity. The next song, “In My Arms”, leads us to the suite of sublime acoustic reveries that close HoS, arguably peaking with the gorgeous acoustic love ballad “Cow”. The dramatic sonic left-turn that HoS takes midway through may leave some new listeners a little cold, but for most Alex G fans nothing about the eclecticism of HoS should come as a surprise. Nor should the overwhelming quality of the songs here. From Alex G’s debut, Race, in 2010 up through HoS, he released a remarkable catalog of some of the most eclectic, and vital indie rock of the century, and I have no reason to believe he won’t top HoS at some point.

Essentials: “Gretel”, “Sugar”, “Walk Away”

22. Sea When Absent- A Sunny Day in Glasgow

A Sunny Day in Glasgow may be one of the 21st century’s most underrated bands, but not even Pitchfork could resist the coveted BNM tag when it came time to review their fourth and strongest LP, Sea When Absent. Building off of their first three idiosyncratic LPs that superbly fused electronic pop with shoegaze and dream pop, A Sunny Day in Glasgow moved into decidedly more psychedelic territory with their fourth LP while still retaining the sharp melodic sensibility of those first three. Much of the shift is easy to credit to vocalist Jen Goma who joined the group on their third LP, Autumn Again, and here her soaring vocals deliver rich melodies that are more fleshed out and focused than anything on their past releases. SWA sidesteps the kaleidoscopic sprawl of their 22 song sophomore LP, Ashes Grammar, and instead delivers 11 tight, stargazing pop songs. Whereas on the prior records it more often than not felt like the band were throwing ideas at the wall to see what stuck (with primarily successful results) on SWA the band commit more thoroughly to their ideas, writing songs that are well within their wheelhouse but have never been so well-realized. “Byebye, Big Ocean (The End)” and “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)” erupt with a wall of dazzling distorted guitars that slowly build into engrossing melodic payoffs while “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))” and “The Body, It Bends” are sublime, soft spoken breathers that put a premium on texture and melody, and are among A Sunny Day in Glasgow’s most impressive songs yet. Even seemingly inconsequential moments like the “Double Dutch” interlude positively radiant with melodic warmth and joyous energy. Their strain of sun-kissed, jubilant dream pop tonally stands in stark contrast to much of the pop that’s dominated the airwaves this past decade, but their temperament doesn’t sound naïve so much as defiant. They have yet to follow up SWA with another LP, and I can’t blame them if they feel like they’ve said everything that they have to say with SWA.

Essentials: “The Body, It Bends”, “Never Nothing (It’s Alright (It’s Ok))”, “Boys Turn Into Girls (Initiation Rites)”

21. Strange Mercy- St. Vincent

Annie Clark has spent the past decade releasing music under her St. Vincent moniker, collaborating with the likes of David Byrne, producing for Sleater-Kinney, and appearing on the sketch comedy Portlandia. Although she began her solo career in earnest with her strong 2008 debut, Marry Me, in 2011 Clark released Strange Mercy, her third, and strongest record to date. Produced by John Congleton, SM is a compelling fusion of art rock/and chamber pop that often lands with a jarring, visceral impact, but is still imbued with a sense of grace that heightens the sentiments of her bewitching songwriting. Her first two records showcased her singular voice and tastefully, ornate baroque arrangements, but on SM Clark begins to let loose and lean into her virtuosic guitar playing. Songs like “Cruel” and “Northern Light” are propelled by her nimble riffs caked in distortion while strings rise and fall in a satisfying sweep all around her triumphant vocals. “Surgeon” brings the pace down to a crawl and gets a tone of mileage out of sensuous synth arrangements as Clark sings softly of depression and carnal desire “Stay in just to get along/Turn off the TV, wade in bed/A blue and a red/A little something to get along” before the song erupts into a furious storm of guitar distortion. The balance between fury and serenity animate the record from start to finish, and Clark seamlessly toggles these impulses from start to finish. On the title track, over a lumbering tom/kick drum rhythm, the incessant ping of a synth, and bluesy guitar licks Clark brilliantly sums up the record’s theme with a scene of police brutality “If I ever meet that dirty policeman that roughed you up/No, I, I don’t know what” that depicts the contraction inherent in the way justice is carried out by police in the west, and the way those contradictions bleed through to our understanding of morality on the whole. SM is a record full of these sorts of messy contradictions, and the music constantly reflected that perpetual sense of disarray with songs as colorful and chaotic as they were controlled.

Essentials: “Northern Lights”, “Surgeon”, “Strange Mercy”

20. A Moon Shaped Pool- Radiohead

Radiohead’s eighth LP, 2011’s solid but unremarkable King of Limbs seemed to cement the notion that while Radiohead may not have another game changer left in them, they were probably weren’t ever going to make a bad record. And with all of their various solo pursuits it seemed plausible that we may never get another Radiohead record, as underwhelming as capping off a career as thrilling as theirs with KoL would have been. Thankfully things didn’t pan out that way, and in 2016 Radiohead released their ninth LP, A Moon Shaped Pool; the platonic ideal of a master stroke from a legacy act. The album is partially composed of older songs re-worked into new forms, such as the tense string onslaught of opener “Burn the Witch” while a few of the newer songs like the gorgeous, ambient “Daydreaming” are string-laden compositions that are as eerie as they are radiant. For a band that’s been prophesizing the increasingly dismal state of the world that we now find ourselves in for the past several decades, they sound increasingly comfortable with their position in the world, and there’s no question that they’re in full command of their craft here. The production is sublime throughout the entire record, with a sense of encroaching doom bubbling just beneath the surface juxtaposed against rich baroque instrumentation. AMSP is the Radiohead album most informed by Johnny Greenwood’s work scoring films like There Will Be Blood and Phantom Thread, and as a result there’s a remarkable sense of immersion at work even for a Radiohead album.

So while there are some recognizable forms from records past, such as the brass-lead krautrock strut of “Ful Stop”, or the twitchy IDM drum work of “Identikit”, the spectral production heightens the potency of everything here. The compositions on AMSP are the most elegant, and nuanced of Radiohead’s to date, and Yorke’s voice continues to age superbly. Yorke’s lyrics touch on familiar topics, more relevant now than ever, such as climate change on “The Numbers” “The numbers don’t decide/The system is a lie/A river running dry/The wings of butterflies” the dangers of unchecked authority on “Burn the Witch” “Abandon all reason/Avoid all contact/Do not react/Shoot the messengers/This is a low-flying panic attack” and the broader, horrific realities of the world that we live in on “Ful Stop” “Why should I be good if you’re not?/This is a foul tasting medicine/A foul tasting medicine/To be trapped in your ful-stop”. What’s more unexpected are songs like the graceful string-led “Glass Eyes” and the devastating ambient closer “True Love Waits”, two songs that are poignant tributes to Yorke’s ex-wife, Rachel Owen, who passed away from cancer in late 2016. AMSP isn’t just a spectacular late-career gem that would make a superb swan song; it’s also the most human record that Radiohead have made yet.

Essentials: “True Love Waits”, “Daydreaming”, “Ful Stop”

19. Eye Contact- Gang Gang Dance

Few bands set the tone for the kind of cross-culture hybridization that would become the sonic norm for music throughout this decade quite like Gang Gang Dance. Throughout the early aughts they cut their teeth in the Brooklyn noise scene alongside bands like Animal Collective, Black Dice, and Exceptor blending noise, experimental rock, and worldbeat into blistering, unconventional shapes. As the years progressed Gang Gang Dance gradually began to open up their sound, folding elements of hip-hop, dance music, and psychedelic pop into a colorful concoction of rhythmically robust, delightfully manic pop music that was just as forward-thinking as it was infectious. The shift really began on their criminally underrated 2005 LP, God’s Money, but began notably on their terrific 2008 LP, Saint Dymphna. On the follow-up to SD, their remarkable fifth LP, Eye Contact, the sound of Gang Gang Dance crystallized into something more immediate and far-ranging than anything that they had done prior (or since so far). On EC, everything that the band had attempted throughout the course of their career (tribal rhythms, eastern melodies, shards of refracted noise) was gloriously combined into a hyper-saturated tapestry of progressive future pop. EC is the peak of Gang Gang Dance’s prior decade of sonic exploration, and nearly a decade later there’s still nothing that sounds anything like it.

Beginning with the astonishing slow-burn intro of “Glass Jar” that finds the band patiently building up what begins as a pent up ambient composition toward something more volatile that eventually rips open midway through, spilling into a calamitous, euphoric release into the song’s second half, EC is bursting with joyous energy and possibility. The melodies are some of the sharpest, and most direct that vocalist Lizzi Bougatsos has ever penned, providing a warm immediacy that cuts through even the most outre arrangements here, and they continually expand into shapes as the songs continue to progress. “Adult Goth” and “MindKilla” are bolstered considerably by Lizzi’s dynamic vocal performances, and the off-kilter, spellbinding synth arrangements of the band’s keyboardist Brian DeGraw, while “Romance Layers” provides an ideal mid-album psychedelic breather.. And on the album’s closer, “Thru and Thru”, the band deliver a send-off that succinctly sums up a prior decade’s worth of experimentation into a nearly six-minute song overflowing with eastern melodies, mesmerizing chants, and infectious tribal rhythms that congeal into a sound that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else. Although they’ve only graced us with the somewhat underwhelming 2018 record Kazuashita since, when Gang Gang Dance are firing on all cylinders, as they are on all of EC, there’s simply nothing like it.

Essentials: “Glass Jar”, “Adult Goth”, “Thru and Thru”

18. Shields- Grizzly Bear

Although the zeitgeist was already beginning to dramatically shift by the time that Grizzly Bear released their fourth LP, Shields, guaranteeing that it wouldn’t have the same immediate impact that they enjoyed with its predecessor, their 2009 breakout LP, Veckatimest, they still ended up releasing their magnum opus. Compared to Veckatimest’s approachable folk-pop leanings there are moments on Shields that sound downright prog, but the band never let these intricate baroque pop/psychedelic folk arrangements get away from themselves or compromise the remarkable melodic instincts that were undeniable on their terrific sophomore LP, Yellow House. The ten songs throughout Shields are perfectly paced, and there isn’t a single moment that overstays its welcome, but they each develop just as much as they need to. The band’s primary songwriters, Edward Droste and Daniel Rossen, were each peaking as singular songwriters in their own respective rights on Shields, and they both deliver a handful of the band’s strongest songs to date. Droste’s songs tend to creep in ethereal waltzes with delicate baroque instrumentation (“gun-shy”, “A Simple Answer”) unfolding patiently while sustaining a remarkable sense of tension while Rossen’s are jaunty folk rippers that unfurl in unpredictable, and thrilling cacophonies that still retain the grace that the ornate instrumentation demands (“Yet Again”, “Speak in Rounds”) but unfurl in far more complex structures than those on Veckatimest.

Grizzly Bear’s progression from Droste’s cozy lo-fi folk bedroom project to a knotty baroque folk juggernaut was one of the most quietly satisfying of any band from the past decade, and on Shields they hit a gorgeous peak. While Droste and Rossen had peaked as songwriters here, their contributions never overshadowed those of Chris Taylor or Chris Bear, and the chemistry on Shields is sharper than most bands ever come close to achieving. It’s easy to get lost admiring the sheer craft of their meticulous arrangements, crisp production, provoking but elusive songwriting, and the sharp interplay between Droste and Rossen each on their own individual merit, but on Shields everything that previously stood out about their artistry is amplified, and congealed in a way that’s approachable yet inimitable. On Shields Grizzly Bear umped the ante from Veckatimest on both fronts, and proved that they could grow more immediate and melodic while still dazzling with rich compositional complexity. Grizzly Bear followed it up with Painted Ruins in 2017, that while a perfectly good record in its own right is nowhere as cohesive, and most unfortunately, patient. And to be honest, I haven’t heard a baroque folk record released since Shields that’s as consistently engrossing, or one performed with such remarkable execution. Shields isn’t their most immediate, but it best distills their singular essence, and its generosity knows no bounds.

Essentials: “gun-shy”, “Yet Again”, “The Hunt”

17. The Money Store- Death Grips

Anyone from future generations looking to hear a band that’s most emblematic of the 10s as a full decade probably couldn’t do better than Death Grips. The trio consisting of vocalist MC Ride, keyboardist/producer Flatlander, and drummer Zach Hill released their abrasive Ex-military tape in 2011, and right out of the gates the trio had a fully-formed sound that plucked unapologetically from west coast hip-hop, industrial, hardcore, and noise. Although far from the first band to draw equally upon genres like these, Death Grips stood out immediately thanks in no small part to MC Ride, who has since proved to be one of the last decade’s most compelling frontmen. His lyrics are cryptic, and intelligent yet visceral, with a deceptively wry edge. Although there’s quite a bit of variety to his delivery, it’s always propelled forth with an overwhelming intensity that can take some time to become accustomed to. Ex-military was received rapturously by critics and bloggers, but as exciting as group like them may have seemed at the time it would have been hard to predict any kind of real longevity for them. And their unrelentingly antagonistic streak (leaking No Love Deep Web, putting a picture of Zach Hill’s dick on the cover of said album, skipping performances or just playing recorded music instead of performing, trolling fans, faking a breakup) would have decimated the momentum of almost any other band, but Death Grips feed on this sort of chaos like a troupe of anarchist vampires. Their arc from Ex-military to 2018’s Year of the Snitch is one of the most rewarding streaks of any act throughout the 10s, and while most of these records are great, there isn’t one that better distills their essence than their 2012 debut LP, The Money Store.

While Ex-military presented them as an admittedly idiosyncratic, yet undeniable product of their environment, TMS blew their sound wide open proving that they had range far beyond sounds of their native state. Right from the bass arpeggios that jolt opener “Get Got” to life, it’s clear the fidelity has improved considerably, but they haven’t compromised an ounce of their fury. This still scans as music custom-tailored for little other than violently thrashing your limbs, and little else from the past decade as been anywhere near as effective at distilling that aesthetic so neatly across the run of a single record. But on TMS Death Grips were still writing actual songs, with memorable hooks, sticky melodies, and conventional structures that served to heighten the potency of their tantrums. Songs like “I’ve Seen Footage” and “Hacker” are shocking for how immediate and unthreatening the band sound despite MC Ride’s sour bark, while songs like “The Fever (Aye Aye)” and “The Cage” showcase early peaks for Flatlander’s immaculate, and underrated synth work. MC Ride is at his best here, whether talking shit and espousing authenticity (“Hustle Bones”), calling out doubters (“Bitch Please”), or just railing against general conformity, he delivers 13 career defining performances in neat succession. Death Grips have continued to relentlessly experiment on all their subsequent records, and while some have come close to matching the excellence of TMS, they’ve all fallen short. Thankfully, the immense exhilaration and urgency of TMS sound more potent with each successive year that we inhibit this desolate hellscape.

Essentials: “I’ve Seen Footage”, “The Fever (Aye Aye)”, “Hacker”

16. Twin Fantasy (Face to Face)- Car Seat Headrest

It shouldn’t come as any surprise that a re-recording of a devastatingly personal LP that Will Toledo recorded at 19, with better production, stronger arrangements, and cleaner vocals, would end up being his best record to date. What was surprising was that he decided to return to the record of his that’s most important to him, and give it the sort of justice that it deserves after having developed into a far more adept talent in the years following its release. And although I’m sure some of those songs (if not all of them) were painful to revisit, the discipline and audacity paid off enormously. Twin Fantasy centers entirely around falling in love with another man at 19, and the arc of their relationship from mourning the distance between them on the opening song “My Boy (Twin Fantasy)” to the newfound acceptance of their relationship’s dissolution on closer “Twin Fantasy (Those Boys)”, detailing the highs and lows with unabashed sincerity. While the original still holds up fairly well, there’s no question that the re-arranging, cleaner vocals, and stronger fidelity overall just heightened the potency of what was already there without diminishing any aspect of the original record. Will’s cleverness, sense of humor, and dynamism as a bandleader elevate TF beyond a melancholic teen drama into a searing document of formative growth, demonstrating craft, ingenuity, and wisdom far beyond his years. More so than any other record released throughout the last decade, TF exemplifies just how potent indie rock still is.

This new version of TF is more of a “re-imagining” of the original record than anything else, and as such the thematic scope as it initially existed, along with the exact same track listing, is held perfectly intact. The record’s two epics, those being “Beach Life-In-Death” and “Famous Prophets (Stars)” are both even longer, and benefit more so than anything else here from their new arrangements. The fidelity has been cleaned up notably, but TF is still far from overproduced, and without any fuzz obscuring a lot of the detail you can hear just how crisp, and superbly layered these arrangements are. The new-wave outlier “Nervous Young Human” practically radiates with a newfound sheen, and is handedly the most radio-ready song the band have ever written, but it still folds seamlessly into the record’s mid-section between the anthemic, distortion-fueled peaks of “Sober to Death” and the record’s mid-album power-pop stunner, “Bodys”. Toledo’s drawing from a great deal here of different sub-genres here, and he manages to land on a remarkably uniform sound that belies the myriad of intricacies at work that prevent these compositions from being crushed underneath the weight of their own ambition. The album’s greatest achievement is how deftly Will manages to tell a story about the most profound event of his life coupled with music that’s as multi-faceted as the human experience being conveyed. TF may be proudly out of step with the current cultural zeitgeist from a sonic perspective, but the sentiments conveyed throughout are sublime missives from a distinctly millennial outlook. As far as concept albums about a single relationship are concerned, Toledo has set the bar this century with TF.

Essentials: “Famous Prophets (Stars)”, “Beach Life-In-Death”, “Bodys”

15. Modern Vampires of the City- Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend have come a long way from the indie afro-pop roots of their debut to their pastoral, jam band informed fourth LP, Father of the Bride, but on their third LP, Modern Vampires of the City the band refined their sound to a sublime strain of chamber music and art pop filled with Ezra Koenig’s strongest writing to date. Whereas their first two records were entirely produced by the band’s multi-instrumentalist and not-so-secret weapon Rostam Batmanliij, on MVotC Ariel Reitscheid, a producer known for working with acts like Charli XCX, Haim, Solange, etc joined the proceedings, and there’s a lighter feel to a lot of the arrangements, but everything has more dimension overall, and the low-end really pops on a lot of these in a way that it hadn’t really before. There are plenty of welcome production choices throughout, like the sprinkling of auto-tune on “Step”, or the blistering saxophone solo on “Worship You” that do a great deal to expand the parameters of the band’s sound without ever finding them really going out of their depth. Compared to their prior records there’s a fairly vast tonal gap on MVotC, with a heightened sense of existential dread and fixations on mortality, nostalgia, and faith. It’s weighty stuff without question, and the exceptional pacing goes a long towards helping evenly pack in the melancholic, languid compositions like “Everlasting Arms” and “Don’t Lie” with infectious up-tempo numbers like “Diane Young”, “Unbelievers”, and “Finger Back” that, while far from the best of what’s here are still as immediate as anything they’ve ever released and benefit from the same immaculate arrangement, production, and writing as everything else here even if they don’t break as much new ground. But the best of what’s here are without question among the best pop songs released so this far century.

Both opener “Obvious Bycycle” and “Step” are devastating looks at nostalgia that frame Ezra’s thoughtful character sketches in rich compositions that in the case of the former consist of soft wisps of grand piano, percussion that sounds like a stamp being punched, and surprisingly visceral bass, while in the case of the latter the band opt for gorgeous harpsichord arrangements, and a swaggering bassline. But “Hannah Hunt”, which is for the record the best VW song to date, is on another level entirely. It opens like the sun after the storm with field recording of a crowd of people clearing away for delicate grand piano and the gentle rumble of bass. Ezra sings of a relationship slowly starting to break apart as a couple travels the country together “A gardener told me some plants move/But I could not believe it/’Til me and Hannah Hunt/Saw crawling vines and weeping willows”. The song slowly builds into a rousing baroque pop crescendo over roaring keys as Ezra delivers one of his most devastating lines to date “If I can’t trust you then damn it Hannah/There’s no future, there’s no answer/Though we live on the US dollar/You and me we got our own sense of time”. Rostam left VW in 2016, and although their first record without him, the aforementioned 2019 comeback LP, FotB, his absence was sorely felt. On “Hudson” it almost sounds like Rostam is singing to Ezra, under that lens especially, it’s functions as a poignant, but fitting cap to VW’s first era. As great as FotB, Rostam’s 2017 debut Half-Light, and I Had a Dream That You Were Mine, his 2016 collaboration with Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen, I hope that MVotC isn’t the last time the two of them work on a full LP together.

Essentials: “Hannah Hunt”, “Step”, “Ya Hey”

14. Channel Orange- Frank Ocean

Few albums released throughout the last decade have brought about the sort of sweeping sea change that Frank Ocean’s sublime debut LP, Channel Orange, did. Ocean’s kaleidoscopic, self-released 2011 mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra established his artistry as something far beyond that of the go-to hook ghostwriter identity he cut his teeth establishing for himself. A year and a half later, amidst signing to Def Jam, collaborating extensively with Tyler, the Creator, Kanye West, and Jay-Z, and writing a now legendary tumblr post stating that his first love was for another man a few days before releasing his immensely anticipated debut LP, Frank Ocean released that album, and decided to call it Channel Orange. Like Ocean’s music itself, the narrative surrounding his ascension feels both timeless (moving to LA after Hurricane Katrina struck his hometown of New Orleans, ghostwriting and joining Tyler, the Creator’s hip-hop collective Odd Future before releasing his own music, which drew primarily from soul, classic r&b, and funk more than anything that was on the radio at the time) and modern (sampling extensively on N,U, having a few key co-signs that seemed to unlock all the right connections, leveraging the power of the internet along with the rest of Odd Future to build and sustain a fanbase) but none of it would matter if the music didn’t live up to the hype. But all of this is particularly interesting to consider when talking about CO, especially considering that it’s the best debut LP of the 10s, and an absolute master class in songwriting.

CO is a remarkably fully-formed debut LP that finds Ocean in complete control of his craft on all fronts. The instrumentation is a lush palette of analog keys, bass, and strings, and with the exception of a few fairly stripped down ballads, shows a keen command for maximalism that never sounds overwrought. Even a song like the colossal, mid-album change-up “Pyramids”, is saved from complete indulgence after the beat seamlessly shifts into a woozy down-tempo trap instrumental with plenty of space for Ocean’s falsetto to linger in. Ocean would shift gears dramatically with the 2016 visual album, Endless, and his second studio LP, Blonde, trading in the rich, dense analog soul and r&b for a minimal psychedelic soul sound. While the production on Blonde and Endless is more impressive than that of CO, neither record was quite able to match the lush immediacy that seemed to come to Ocean so naturally here. Ocean produced the record alongside the musicians Jonathon Ikpeazu, Malay, and Om’Mas Keith who all provided additional keys, drum programming, and/or guitars. Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, the Creator, and Andre 3000 are the only guests that provide verses, and while each completely delivers, CO is Ocean’s record through and through. Regardless of whether Ocean is singing about the emptiness of privilege (“Super Rich Kids”), or depicting a tale of someone’s life falling apart due to crack addiction (“Crack Rock”) or delivering the closest thing he’ll likely ever come to a straight forward love song (“Thinkin’ Bout You”) his eye for detail, wit, intelligence, and empathy render the characters as rich, and multi-faceted regardless of what angle he’s coming at them from. The warmth and immediacy of the instrumentation and Ocean’s voice draws you in, but it’s the sheer strength of his songwriting that elevates CO from simply being another immensely promising debut to the classic that it is.

Essentials: “Crack Rock”, “Bad Religion”, “End / Golden Girl” ft. Tyler, the Creator

13. Sunbather- Deafheaven

Deafheaven were far from the first band to blend black metal, shoegaze, and post-rock, but on their stellar 2013 record Sunbather they distilled elements of these genres into a punishing, and breathtaking sound that’s unmistakably theirs. Their solid 2010 debut Roads to Judha showed tremendous promise, but their songwriting wasn’t on par with their ambitions yet. But on Sunbather, Deafheaven lived up to that early promise. Sunbather is primarily a blistering fusion of black metal drumming and shrieks engulfed in walls of shoegaze guitar that often give way to instrumental outros that shine with the radiance of Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky. George Clarke delivers the lyrics in an indecipherable shriek that either amplifies the intensity of the surrounding arrangements, or is used as a sublime juxtaposition to their fleeting moments of transcendent beauty. Sunbather is seven songs long, and superbly paced so that the band’s lengthier compositions are evenly split between songs that include a dreamy minimalist guitar/piano composition (“Irresistible”), a menacing baroque-noise march that congeals midway through into a jangly guitar conclusion (“Please Remember”), and an eerie collage of vocal samples and droning strings (“Windows”). This odd assortment of songs may seem random, but they do a nice job of breaking up the surrounding onslaught, and demonstrating the band’s range, while still adhering to the record’s searing aesthetic. It’s remarkably accessible music as far as metal is concerned, and if you can make it past the tone of Clarke’s voice there’s a lot to love about this album.

For all of Sunbather’s seemingly impenetrable harshness, there’s a great deal of beauty glistening just beneath the surface. On Sunbather, Deafheaven managed to strike a near perfect balance between beauty and chaos that, while greater heights were achieved later on, they never quite improved upon. The longer numbers here transition into moments of transcendent, cathartic beauty, and back into frenetic fury so subtly, and masterfully, that the juxtapositions quickly begin to seem less like extreme exercises in contrasting dynamics and tones so much as the fluid spectrum of Deafheaven’s multi-faceted artistry. And while the lyrics throughout Sunbather match the brutality of the corresponding arrangements, they also match their life-affirming, triumphant sense of urgency. Whether Clarke is reflecting on habitual patterns and habits that he just can’t shake “Lost in the patterns of youth/And the ghost of your aches comes back to haunt you/And the forging of change makes no difference” on “Vertigo” or ruing the alcoholism that he inherited from his father “In the hallways lit up brightly but couldn’t find myself/I laid drunk on the concrete on the day of your birth in celebration of all you were worth” on closer “The Pecan Tree”, his lyrics throughout Sunbather imbue his tortured yelps with a devastating poignancy rendered all the more morose by the band’s unflinching, formidable poise. It’s not hard to hear why Sunbather was the best reviewed album of 2013, and a game changer for black metal. Few records, metal or otherwise, have managed to convey such overwhelming emotional intensity through such ambitious composition. Its crushing beauty hasn’t lost an ounce of its potency in the years since.

Essentials: “Dream House”, “The Pecan Tree”, “Sunbather”

12. To Pimp a Butterfly- Kendrick Lamar

Kendrick Lamar caught the attention of the zeitgeist with his generation defining sophomore LP, Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, but that record’s follow-up, To Pimp a Butterfly, cemented his status as one of the definitive musical auteurs of his generation. Whereas the former record was a gripping street epic that seamlessly tucked a coming of age story into the larger fabric of a blockbuster west coast hip-hop record, the latter record blew open the history of black music and wove together a tapestry of disparate styles that congealed to express a more multi-faceted look at the black experience. The beats are composed of live instrumentation courtesy of Terrance Martin, Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, and a plethora of the west coast jazz elite, and they span the likes of jazz, r&b, soul, and funk alongside instrumental hip-hop without showing the seams. The music runs the gamut from uplifting anthems (“Alright”) to bouts of unbridled fury (“The Blacker the Berry”), and everywhere in-between, but thanks to Kendrick’s deft pacing and execution nothing sounds out of place, and there’s no mistaking these songs for the work of anyone else through sheer scope alone. Kendrick’s writing and rapping had increased considerably since GKMC, but throughout TPaB he spends less time trying to prove what a capable rapper he is, and far more time using his ability to explore the nuances of systemic racial issues through the lens of a plethora of different characters. TPaB couldn’t have possibly sounded more out of step with the zeitgeist upon its release, but in venturing beyond what hip-hop in the mid 10s sounded like, and exploring perspectives beyond those of himself, he was able to tap into something far more universally human.

Throughout the course of TPaB Kendrick tackles a wide plethora of topics with music that’s matches the breadth and scope of his thematic ambitions. The g-funk strut “King Kunta” is one of the most immediate songs in his career, and he juxtaposes the song’s infectious backdrop against verses that evoke the resilience of Kunta Kinte in the novel Roots as a through line for the jarring shift he experienced throughout his come-up after growing up in poverty. “u?” brilliantly distills the sort of tragic survivor’s guilt that Kendrick experienced in the wake of his success watching so many of his friends continue to succumb to the perils of systemic racism through harsh free-jazz arrangements, while “i” gains power within the context of the record as an uplifting neo-soul anthem of self-love after the preceding storm has subsided. The uplifting anthem “Alright” has become a canonical protest song in the wake of civil unrest as a result of excessive police brutality while the finale, “Mortal Man”, begins with some of his strongest verses to date before transitioning into a fabricated interview with 2Pac. There’s an absurd amount to unpack within the songs on TPaB, but the album never buckles under the weight of its ambition, and delivers performances that are striking at every turn. Kendrick never shies away from depicting the devastating realities throughout the history of the black American experience, but he finds reasons to persist through these tribulations in the power of community, god, and love.

Essentials: “The Blacker the Berry”, “u”, “Wesley’s Theory” ft. George Clinton

11. Lonerism- Tame Impala

On Tame Impala’s debut, Innerspeaker, the band proved adept at piecing together the finest moments from their record collections into strange, idiosyncratic new shapes, but on their sublime sophomore LP, Lonerism, they began to push their sound into the present moment. The flanged guitars, shuffling drum rhythms, and frontman Kevin Parker’s Lennon-esque falsetto are a hallmarks of classic psychedelic rock, but the spellbinding synth textures, evocative samples, and cavernous production showcase a definitively 21st century sensibility. There was no mistaking them for a pure homage act on Lonerism. With the exception of piano on a few tracks courtesy of Jay Watson, and a spoken word interlude courtesy of Melody Prochet, Lonerism was written, recorded, and produced entirely by Kevin Parker, and it helped signal a major shift from bands being the dominant artistic vehicle in indie music to the solo artist taking up that mantle. Lonerism is a perfectly paced album, and aside from a few breathers, and a few epics, it almost plays like a greatest hits set. There were signs of the disco-prog synth act that Tame Imapa developed into on a few of Lonerism’s more immediate moments, but this is still thoroughly steeped in the lineage of psychedelic rock, acid rock, and blues rock. With Lonerism, Parker began to show signs of the poptimist that he was all along, but he hadn’t yet compromised the instrumental ingenuity that he’s capable of for a strong melody, and so here you get the best of both worlds; the band’s sharpest hooks and most adventurous production. Lonerism is where Tame Impala evolved from a promising project with immense potential into one of the defining musical acts of Parker’s generation.

Lonerism is a record that completely lives up to its title as a concept record about isolation. Every song here finds Parker grappling with some aspect of self-imposed isolation set against hazy, psychedelic pop/rock instrumentation. Some songs like, the disarmingly immediate “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” spells out his anguish explicitly, with a love interest that he keeps falling for against his best judgement, while “Endors Toi” finds Parker rejecting the hardships of reality for the bliss that’s only possible when you’re literally dreaming. The lyrics rarely go deep, but on a record like this they’re entirely beside the point. Thankfully Parker’s writing works superbly within the context of the concept without detracting from the instrumentation and production. Parker wrote a few strong hooks on IS, but they were the exception, not the norm. On Lonerism, Parker’s melodic intuition had fully blossomed, and the hooks on songs like “Elephant”, “Why Won’t She Talk to Me”, and “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” were more immediate, and more memorable than anything on the top 40 at the time. The songs on Lonerism are bursting with sonic personality; whether we’re talking about the euphoric streaks of synth that send “Apocalypse Dreams” into the stratosphere, the phaser-smeared guitars and immersive samples that bring “Sun’s Coming Down” to its triumphant finale, or the propulsive drum fllls that propel “Endors Toi”, Lonerism is the most sonically rich record that Parker has ever released. Parker would achieve more audacious and unexpected heights on his superb 2015 follow-up, Currents, but he has yet to top Lonerism’s consistency, and near perfect balance between studio experimentation and pure pop craftsmanship.

Essentials: “Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control”, “Sun’s Coming Up”, “Apocalypse Dreams”

10. Flower Boy- Tyler, the Creator

Flower Boy may not have come as a surprise to those who closely followed Tyler Okonoma’s progression from the lo-fi hardcore hip-hop days of Bastard and early Odd Future through his chaotic, candy-coated third LP, Cherry Bomb, but for the casual listener it may have seemed like an unthinkable evolution. And no one could have predicted its consistency. The signs of Tyler progressing into melodic, psych-leaning neo-soul were on the wall as early as his terrific 2013 record, Wolf, but on FB his melodic sensibilities, compositional chops, and an increasingly empathetic outward writing perspective all coalesced into an idiosyncratic tapestry of vibrant sound and color unlike any hip hop record ever recorded. It’s the first time that Tyler’s chops had fully caught up with his ambition, allowing him to completely deliver on the promise of a truly genre-adverse opus that Cherry Bomb merely hinted at. The lyrics are somber, and reflective, demonstrating Tyler’s newfound sense of maturity that would have been unthinkable throughout the early OF days. The sincerity and vulnerability of the lyrics go a long way towards heightening the potency of his vibrant, melodically rich compositions. FB capitalizes on all the strange contradictions that have always been inherent in his music, while removing the adolescent excess that have bogged down each prior release. The result is a highwater mark for what hip-hop and neo-soul can sound like unbridled with concern for what music should sound like. That attention to detail and unrelenting creative spirit are what helped propel FB into being the classic record that it ended up being.

Eschewing the lo-fi Neptunes meets MF DOOM beats of his past records, Tyler landed on a perfect blend of neo-soul synths, jazz strings/horns, and drums that split the difference between classic boom-bap and mid-10s trap for FB. The music is bright and vibrant, with a wealth of detail tucked within each mix that rewards multiple listens. There are songs that are completely in Tyler’s wheelhouse, like the frantic, mid-album trap cut “I Ain’t Got Time!”, and a few like the show-stopping psychedelic soul ballad, “Garden Shed”, that dramatically expand the parameters of his sound, but they all cohere together superbly into a fully-realized kaleidoscope of sound. Even the songs like “Pothole” and “November” that seem like more run of the mill Tyler cuts showcase a renewed sense of focus and tight production that belie their simple construction. FB is a record that’s focused on unrequited love, and while themes of abandonment, disillusionment with fame, growing pains, and insecurity emerge as on past records, the bulk of the action is focused on Tyler coming to terms with both his bisexuality and the anguish of a missed connection. Rarely does heartbreak sound so unflinchingly, thrillingly alive. True to form, the music is never mopey or saccharine, but it’s always brimming with the intensity of young love. FB is the record that Tyler has always set out to make, and while I’m sure he’ll top it at some point, it currently stands at the definitive realization of his singular vision.

Essentials: “911 / Mr. Lonely” ft. Frank Ocean & Stevey Lacy, “Garden Shed” ft. Estelle, “See You Again” ft. Kali Uchis

9. Until the Quiet Comes- Flying Lotus

After Steve Ellison, aka Flying Lotus, dropped his masterful third LP, Cosmogramma, it seemed like he could take his sound anywhere, but doubling down and improving on the maximalist excess of Cosmogramma would have proved a near impossible task. Thankfully, on his stellar follow-up LP, Until the Quiet Comes, FlyLo swung all the way in the opposite direction, and despite it being the flavor of the decade minimalism rarely ended up sounding better on any other artist. UtQC is a minimalist electronic jazz/instrumental hip hop record with dreamy meditative arrangements that belie their complexity at every turn. The album is a concept record that finds FlyLo exploring the realms of human consciousness coupled with ambitious arrangements and immersive production that complements his thematic ambitions perfectly. FlyLo is still making beats in a traditional sense, but the compositions on this LP are more rich and varied than the entire discography of most producers, and the music he draws from spans the likes of ambient, psychedelia, r&b, post-rock, progressive rock, and meditative astral jazz as much as his usual instrumental hip hop, IDM, and free jazz touchstones. And so while UtQC is more insular, less immediate, and more likely to necessitate multiple listens than any other record of his, it’s the best showcase of FlyLo’s versatility, melodic intuition, and use of texture.

The compositions are short and sweet, and barely last longer than it takes for FlyLo to introduce an idea, tweak it, thwart expectations, and move on. Like on Cosmogramma, UtQC incorporates live instrumentation weaved throughout various compositions (Thundercat’s bass playing was cemented as a staple element of FlyLo’s sound here) as well as vocal features from the likes of Thundercat, Thom Yorke, Laura Darlington, and Niki Randa. The features are all utilized tastefully, and heighten the potency of the existing arrangements without detracting too much. There are songs like “All In” and “Yesterday/Corded” that just feature FlyLo alone constructing remarkable, lived-in soundscapes from his usual toolkit of drum machines, samplers, sequencers, and keys, while others like the title track and “DMT Song” that commit thoroughly to their minimalism, and coast effortlessly around strong melodies or guest vocal performances. Many of these songs retain the visceral low-end and celestial sweep of his best work, but they don’t serve to overwhelm and disorient as much as they sedate and mesmerize. “Getting There” hits the sweet spot, with and infectious, heavy-hitting low-end juxtaposed against Niki Randa’s sweeping falsetto. UtQC may not go for the jugular as FlyLo’s prior two records, but it’s just as captivating in its own quietly confident way.

And a few of the songs on the back half of the record are some of the most gorgeous that FlyLo has ever composed. The loose and dreamy “Only if You Wanna” provides a simple but sublime bridge from the drum and bass rush of “The Nightcrawler” into the droning r&b mirage with Yorke’s vocals wafting eerily through the crevices in the mix. From there the record moves into “Hunger” and “Phantasm”, two songs that skew the closest that FlyLo has ever veered toward straight up ambience, and they slowly unfurl into gorgeous, unpredictable string progressions as Niki Randa and Laura Darlington deliver understated, ethereal vocals, respectively. From there we’re led into “me Yesterday//Corded”, one of the strongest songs that FlyLo has released to date. It begins in the same somber, minor-key tone of the preceding songs before erupting into a cosmic drum and bass coda with a euphoric melody and pitch-shifted vocals. The final song, “Dream to Me” is a whirring synth and woodwind lullaby that brings everything full circle, leading us right back into the intro, “All In”. UtQC breezes by in nearly 47 minutes, but there’s another singular, self-contained universe of detail packed into this record’s spellbinding grooves.

Essentials: “yesterday//Corded”, “Electric Candyman ft. Thom Yorke”, “All In”

8. Carrie & Lowell- Sufjan Stevens

By the time that Sufjan Stevens released Carrie & Lowell he had already released several classic records and had undergone several stylistic change-ups, but nothing in his discography established the precedent for a masterwork quite like C&L. On C&L Sufjan returned to the sparse chamber folk sound of his superb fourth record, Seven Swans, but he replaced the short vignettes and character studies that peppered that record with an engrossing scope that centers around his tumultuous relationship with his late mother who suffered from substance addiction and schizophrenia. The music is hushed, and minimal, consisting of little more than finger plucked guitar, banjo, ukulele, and an assortment of strings underneath Sufjan’s tender delivery. His music has always radiated a sense of overwhelming empathy, and so when plumbing the depths of his psyche for memories of his mother the tone is often devastating and cathartic in equal measure, but never overly morose or self-pitying. With C&L Sufjan succeeded in honoring his mother’s memory as honestly and as faithfully as he could while his songwriting hit a new peak.

C&L sustains an almost overwhelming poignancy throughout its duration, but it’s never a slog. The heaviness of the sentiments never really subsides, but these songs are each filled with strong hooks, sweeping melodies, and a disarming directness that he’s never quite managed on prior records. Songs like the opening cut “Death with Dignity”, “Should Have Known Better”, and “The Only Thing” soar with warm, infectious hooks and nimble guitar arrangements alongside a few electronic and orchestral embellishments, while songs like “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross” and “Fourth of July” bring the tempo to a crawl and bask in Sufjan’s falsetto and minor-key acoustic guitar arrangements. It all comes to a head on the devastating centerpiece “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, as Sufjan depicts the self-destructive behavior he engaged in right after his mother’s death “There’s blood on that blade/Fuck me, I’m falling apart/My assassin/Like Casper the ghost/There’s no shade in the shadow of the cross” just so that he could feel closer to her.

Essentials: “No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross”, “Death with Dignity”, “The Only Thing”

7. Some Rap Songs- Earl Sweatshirt

Earl Sweatshirt was arguably the greatest living rapper before dropping his magnum opus, Some Rap Songs, but since its release it’s become much harder to dispute. On SRS Earl runs through 15 songs in 22 minutes, delivering sometimes little more than a hook and a verse per song before transitioning into the next one. The songs operate according to their own logic, and forgo traditional song structure for a loop-based compositional approach. Earl produced the bulk of the record himself, and heavily opted for dusty, de-tuned pianos, shuffling, lo-fi percussion, and a plethora of discordant texture. Earl’s precision is remarkable, and what may initially scan as awkward or clumsy flows slowly reveal themselves to be masterfully sidestepping the rhythms entirely. But for all its challenging aspects, SRS is hardly a precious, posturing sort of record. It demands your full attention, but will reward it several times over.

The songs throughout SRS are bleak missives from a remarkable talent unpacking years of trauma. The record tackles many of the same themes of abandonment, drug abuse, and depression as his past records, but he’s cut out any lingering excess in his prose, distilling only what’s absolutely necessary into each bar. The rapping is lean, and virtuosic, but never showy, and the brevity of the songs themselves is indicative of how succinct and substantial the music there is. Songs like “Red Water” have just a single couplet that he repeats a few times as the ebb and flow of the instrumental sustains the onset momentum, while other songs like “The Mint” are closer to convention, but still unfold along unpredictable loops, and verses that zig zag in and out of the mix at irregular intervals. There are songs like “Cold Summers” and “The Bends” that are the closest that Earl comes to rapping accessibly, and there are those like “Playing Possums” and Peanuts" that owe more to tape loops, ambient, and noise music than anything resembling hip hop. SRS and it’s follow-up EP, Feet of Clay, are easily the most challenging, experimental, and divisive records that Earl has released to date, but they’re also singular masterworks that push hip hop into stranger, and more human realms.

Essentials: “Peanut”, “The Mint” ft. Navy Blue, “December 24”

6. New Bermuda- Deafheaven

After releasing their superb second LP, Sunbather, Deafheaven had become one of the most acclaimed metal bands of the century, and had achieved a level of popularity unprecedented for metal bands. Never mistaken by anyone as purists, Deafheaven began their career flirting with through lines between shoegaze, black metal, and post-rock before tastefully combining them on Sunbather. While they easily could have churned out another LP of post-rock/blackgaze of the same stripe, the band went deeper and darker, and re-emerged with their third LP, New Bermuda, the heaviest, and arguably most melodic, record of their career to date. Across five songs that collectively clock in around 46 minutes Deafheaven continue to expand their parameters of their sound, incorporating heavier tremelo guitars, incendiary blast beats, and sweeping post-rock passages that are more adventurous, expansive, and gorgeous, than what any other bands are doing today. NB may lean the furthest towards the brutality of classic black metal, but the band’s 2015 onslaught still amplifies an immense feeling of transcendence alongside the terror.

Opener “Brought to the Water” rustles to life with the ominous sway of church bells before its lead guitar riff kicks into gear, foreshadowing the premium they place on atmosphere with foreboding timbres. Throughout the next several minutes the band continue to build a scorched earth black metal composition bristling with distortion and rapid fire drumming that eventually slyly segues into a sugary breakdown reminiscent of “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer. It’s disarming, and unprecedented, but a perfectly logical evolution of their sound that reaffirms their status as the most versatile band at the vanguard of contemporary black metal. “Luna” and “Come Back” are two of the heaviest songs that Deafheaven have ever released, and get a ton of mileage out of their seismic guitar riffs and pummeling percussion, while “Luna” boasts one of the loveliest melodies they’ve ever penned, gliding alone a star-dusted, stratosphere-bound guitar riff. Closer “Gifts for the Earth” is a succinct culmination of the preceding 38 minutes, capped off with their most cathartic coda to date with jangly guitar and minor key piano softly swirling around Clarke’s feral shrieks. The warmth exuded beneath Clarke’s shrapnel-laced delivery posits Deafheaven as a band executing well-beyond the scope and limitations of metal.

Essentials: “Gifts for the Earth”, “Brought to the Water”, “Luna”

5. Halcyon Digest- Deerhunter

By the time that Deerhunter geared up to record their fifth LP, Halycon Digest, they already had a rich body of work behind them, but very little of their music set the kind of precedent for where they would go on HD. Here, Deerhunter tapered down their most avant-garde impulses in favor of cleaner guitar arrangements and big, bright melodies, unearthing the pop band they’ve always been at their core with poise and aplomb. The walls of guitar noise, ambient interludes, and studio effects that had defined their previous releases became relegated to marginal aspects of their song craft, and they began opening up their songs like never before. Thankfully, they didn’t dilute their sound, they just cleaned it up, and the 11 songs that make up HD are the most immediate, and richly produced (thanks to Ben Allen, who produced this record after nailing Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion a year prior) of Deerhunter’s career to date. Deerhunter’s shift towards accessibility only seemed to accentuate their inherent strangeness, and HD remains one of the most engaging and endlessly replayable indie pop records of the 21st century.

From the droning low-end thump that ignites opener “Earthquake” it’s clear something substantial has shifted. Allen’s biggest contribution was a heightened low-end that caused Josh Fauver’s bass to really pop without distracting too much from the rest of the arrangements. This extra oomph propels songs like “Don’t Cry” and “Coronado” well into infectious, anthemic territory while it helps ground more ambitious cuts like “Helicopter” and “Desire Lanes”. Frontman Bradford Cox had completely grown into his role as a charismatic, provocative frontman with the pipes and poetic disposition to back up the antics, and propel his band towards a stadium sized sound even if they would never end up touring them. Bradford’s vocal melodies on closer “…He Would Have Laughed” and centerpiece “Helicopter” are the strongest that the band ever penned, while he delivers two of his most impressive vocal performances on the lulling “Sailing” and the pensive “Earthquake”. The closer, a tribute to the late Jay Reatard, is perhaps Deerhunter’s finest moment to date, with Bradford spinning surreal couplets “I live on a farm, yeah/I never lived on a farm” around the band’s steady harpsichord pulse until the composition bursts with euphoria, and then slowly begins to fade out before cutting out abruptly. Deerhunter have never made a bad record, but HD was the last time they showed how simultaneously adventurous and immediate pop music can be.

Essentials: “He Would Have Laughed”, “Helicopter”, “Desire Lanes”

4. Black Messiah- D’Angelo & The Vanguard

In the years following D'Angelo’s spectacular second LP, Voodoo, it seemed increasingly likely that he would never release another record. But then in the twilight days of 2014 D'Angelo surprise dropped his 3rd and best LP to date, Black Messiah, with a new band supporting him called The Vanguard (which consisted of Questlove on drums, Pina Palladino on bass, Isaiah Sharkey on guitar, Roy Hargrove on horns, and a handful of other musicians). BM eschews the warm r&b/neo-soul solo singer-songwriter sound of the first two D'Angelo LPs in favor of a fiery cocktail of avant-garde soul, jazz funk, and psychedelic r&b that’s simultaneously more abrasive and experimental than anything he had done prior. D'Angelo still has a remarkably agile falsetto, but it’s been notably weathered by the years away, and it now has a grainier disposition that happens to be a much better fit for the songs throughout the record. The band’s chemistry is just remarkable, and it’s hard to believe that they weren’t all cutting records with each other for decades prior. Unlike most artists that come back with new work after a notable dry spell, D'Angelo has never sounded more human than he does on this latest LP of his. Thankfully, despite the years apart D’Angelo hasn’t lost an ounce of his remarkable talent, and brings a magnetic charisma, sublime range, and a much sharper point of view to songs that reflect the turmoil of the preceding years of unrelenting police violence, yet respond in a multitude of ways. The Vanguard prove to be an ideal backdrop for D’Angelo’s songwriting, and together they achieve a new standard for neo-soul.

Although it had been 14 years, D'Angelo’s return felt right on time in the immediate wake of the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, and plenty of others at the hands of the police. While D'Angelo’s music has never shied away from political statements, BM is by far the most explicitly political record of his career. “1000 Deaths” opens to a sample of a Khalid Abdul Muhammed speech about Jesus being black and quickly gives way to a visceral, funk rock rhythm and red-lining guitars with D'Angelo dissecting the difference between courage and cowardice “Because a coward dies a thousand times/But a soldier just dies once”. On the following track, “The Charade”, D'Angelo opts for searing soul that builds into his most anthemic melody to date while he delivers devastating imagery of the cruelty still inflicted on black people all over the world “All we wanted was a chance to talk/‘Stead we only got outlined in chalk” while “'Til It’s Done” contains D'Angelo’s finest melody to date and finds him questioning the nature of our existence and whether we’re really reckoning with the way that capitalists are destroying our planet “Perilous dissidence evening up the score/Do we even know what we’re fighting for?”. He also delivers some of his best love songs to date, including the funky mid-tempo shuffle of “Sugah Daddy”, the tender soul ballad “Betray My Heart”, and the spellbinding centerpiece “Really Love”. These songs fold neatly within the larger fabric of the record as a whole, and complement the politically charged songs without breaking the greater aesthetic. D'Angelo’s conviction is palpable throughout it all, and the newfound wisdom that he accrued in the years since Voodoo enrich the perspective that he brings to the songs in such a generous, humble way. Even if D’Angelo never releases another record we couldn’t have asked for a better swan song from him.

Essentials: “’Til It’s Done”, “The Charade”, “Really Love”

3. MBV- My Bloody Valentine

Like D'Angelo, it didn’t seem likely that My Bloody Valentine would ever follow-up their masterful second LP, but 22 years after the release of Loveless, in the dead of February 2013, MBV, the third My Bloody Valentine, finally emerged. There are 9 songs here, and they can neatly divided into three sections that find the band progressing from an extension of what they were doing in the 90s to styles never associated with them. MBV picks up right where Loveless left off, beginning with expansive suite of shoegaze songs rendered with the kind of sublime texture and tone as we’ve come to expect from the group, and slowly but surely they branch out into psychedelic pop, ambient, and pure noise, realms they’ve teased in the past but have never quite committed to prior. You can hear the band straining against their limitations, and although seeking out perfection is a fools errand, they nearly achieve it.

There’s no mistaking MBV as the work of any other band, but here they’re painting in darker, bolder hues than they’ve used in the past. Beginning with the opening song, “She Found Now”, their sound is much richer, and more forlorn, than it’s ever sounded, with thick plumes of guitar washing over wispy androgynous vocals and faint, skeletal percussion. Even as the tempos increase and the melodies begin to peak out beneath the fuzz, that wistful, melancholic tone remains. “Only Tomorrow” amps up the tempo with a driving rhythm and scorching guitars perpetually firing into the red

while “In Another Way” is a bludgeoning slice of driving noise pop with a strong melody from guitarist Belinda Butcher. “Nothing Is” coasts off the hypnotic repetition of its bludgeoning guitars for 3.5 minutes, and perfectly segues into the glorious noise piece, “Wonder 2”, which closes the record on a note of whirring guitars that approximate the overwhelming euphoria of first wave shoegaze, but takes the listener to much stranger places.

The nine songs throughout MBV strike a perfect balance between updating the shoegaze style that they perfected on loveless while wading into new territory, but it all hangs together beautifully. Kevin Shields and Belinda Butcher still harmonize on the bulk of these songs, and they’re ethereal delivery is still the perfect counterbalance for the aggression of the guitars. The searing slow-burn of “Who Sees You” is the peak of their vocal interplay, while on the midsection pop numbers like “New You” and “In Another Way” Butcher takes the reins and delivers two of the band’s strongest melodies to date over driving percussion and sleigh bells. The relative immediacy of “New You” is new sound for the band, and they completely deliver on its hypnotic pop premise. “Is This and Yes” and “Nothing Is” are the two instrumentals at the polar ends of the band’s sound that perfectly balance out the more dynamic songs, and the aforementioned noise piece “Wonder 2” complements the opening song “She Found Now” perfectly in that it’s an exploration of what My Bloody Valentine might explore more of if they ever release a fourth LP. It’s a miracle that MBV even exists in the first place, so the fact that it’s this good is just icing.

Essentials: “Only Tomorrow”, “New You”, “In Another Way”

2. Blonde- Frank Ocean

After releasing his generation defining 2012 debut Channel Orange, it was hard to say where he was going to take his music next. A cryptic series of videos in mid-August 2016 featuring Frank building a ladder led to few clues, but at the end of this week we received an audio-visual album titled Endless. Before anyone could really acclimate themselves to sleek, genre-agnostic minimalism of Endless, the proper follow-up to CO, titled Blonde, released a day later. Whereas CO was the sound of a singular talent discovering what he can do, Blonde is the sound of that talent capitalizing on those gifts with unparalleled precision. On Blonde Frank opts for a striking minimalist palette of psychedelic pop, avant-garde soul, ambient, and jazz, that are off-kilter and adventurous without sacrificing the warmth of his past work. Like CO, Blonde primarily explores themes of nostalgia, heartbreak, identify, and the nature of human perception, and here his eye for detail and attention to detail remains unmatched by any songwriter of the last decade.

From the opening song “Nikes”, Blonde presents itself as a drastic stylist departure from what Frank was doing prior. The first half is a distorted r&b dreamscape with Frank crooning in a pitch-shifted higher register, and actually has him rapping a few verses, before returning to his normal register. Blonde is filled with strange, yet tasteful stylistic touches like this, from the distorted shrieks at the end of “Ivy”, to the collapsing, pitch-shifted orchestra that gives way to an eerie children’s choir’s on “Pretty Sweet”, the album rarely shifts into anything that scans as conventional. “Pink and White” is the most straight forward moment on the album, but the verses rarely stay grounded, and soon give way to a soaring chorus that slyly tucks Beyonce’s voice into the fold before the instruments dissolve from the mix entirely. “Skyline To” and “Godspeed” flirt with ambience and put a great deal of emphasis on exploring texture and negative space, while “Close to You” is a brief, glitchy cover of Stevie Wonder’s classic that provides a terrific segue from the “Facebook Story” interlude into the record’s devastating centerpiece, White Ferrari. The record covers a remarkable amount of ground sonically, but it coheres in a way that completely belies this scope.

“Nikes” sets the tone for the record on the whole as Frank watches his friends lose themselves to the spoils of his fame and begins to recognize himself as a placeholder for a partner’s lost love. “Self-Control” depicts the story of one of Frank’s relationship’s imploding “I’ll be the boyfriend in your set dreams tonight/Noses on a rail, little virgin wears the white” set to a mesmerizing neo-soul slow-burn that unfurls a gorgeous, understated melody while “Nights” juxtaposes the highs of the come-up “Oooh nani nani/This feel like a Quaalude” with a guitar pop/boom-bap instrumental and the perils of fame with a woozy, cloud-rap adjacent second half “Shut the fuck up I don’t want to hear your conversation/Rollin” marijuana that’s a cheap vacation". The record hits its peak with the spectacular ballad, “White Ferrari”, the strongest song of his career to date. Over warm acoustic guitar provided by Alex G Frank details the permanence of the love that he’ll have for someone that he’s no longer in a relationship with “I care for you still and I will forever/That was my part of the deal, honest/We got so familiar”. The humility and humanity of the moment is heartbreaking, and speaks volumes about the depths of Frank’s artistry. Blonde set a new benchmark for avant-garde pop, and is arguably the most influential album of the past decade.

Essentials: “White Ferrari”, “Nights”, “Self-Control”

1. Cosmogramma- Flying Lotus

After breaking through with his superb sophomore LP, Los Angeles (a singular blend of IDM, trip-hip, and woozy Dilla & Madlib-esque instrumental hip-hop) it would have been easy for Flying Lotus to continue mining the same sounds for successive records that were just slight variations on that singular template. But for FlyLo’s third LP, Cosmogramma, he blew his sound wide open, eschewing the quantized beat grid for a lusher, more sprawling sound that couldn’t be confined to standard rhythms. Cosmogramma is steeped in the lineage of instrumental hip hop and IDM like its predecessor, but it manages to juggle a wider palette of disparate styles such as four on the floor, drum and bass, jungle, free-jazz, and experimental bass while incorporating a wide variety of guest musicians that do a superb job of fleshing out his expansive compositions. Cosmogramma is a record that can barely contain its ambition, and despite having been released over a decade ago it still shines like a beacon illuminating the boundless possibilities of where music can go.

The sublime fusion of the live instrumentation, supplied by Thundercat on bass, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson contributing string arrangements, and Ravi Coltrane providing tenor saxophone, among many others coupled with FlyLo’s mind-warping production is what gives the album it’s compelling thrust. The first half primarily splits the difference between frantic drum and bass/synth-pop heaters and atmospheric cosmic-jazz interludes, and the pacing is just remarkable, with no moment overstaying it’s welcome and plenty of space to give each idea the space it needs to develop. Thom Yorke drops by for a wispy vocal performance on the agile IDM strut “And the World Laughs With You” while Thundercat delivers a formal career introduction on the tender ballad “MmmHmm” before the record shifts into the infectious four on the floor centerpiece, “Do the Astral Plane”. From here the record deploys the astral jazz and eastern influences in a more pronounced fashion on songs like “German Haircut” and “Dance of the Pseudo Nymph” respectively. The celestial ambience of “Table Tennis” featuring Laura Darlington is a welcome breather for the life-affirming synth surge of closer “Galaxy in Janaki”, ending the album on a somber, but ultimately uplifting note with Flylo sampling the ventilators that his mom was hooked up to on her death bed for a euphoric, synth-streaked send-off.

The enduring appeal lies in its function as ambition existing for the sake of ambition. The songs throughout Cosmogramma all vary in texture, tempo, and tone, and they all around great on their own, but it’s the journey from start to finish that Cosmogramma exemplifies as a spiritual experience. Cosmogamma was intended to function as a loose concept album of sorts about lucid-dreaming and out of body experiences influenced by the study of the universe, heaven, and hell, and it’s remarkable to hear just how much of that vision that he’s able to convey without the prevalence of vocals. Although electronic music has changed dramatically in the decade since Cosmogramma was released, the execution of FlyLo’s masterpiece hasn’t been in matched, in electronic music or anywhere where else. Cosmogramma is both the pinnacle of where music has been, and a glimpse at the possibilities of where it could go moving forward.

Essentials: “Galaxy in Janaki”, “Do the Astral Plane”, “MmmHmm” ft. Thundercat

[ladyeliot]

Prologue [T.S. / J.H.]

Series:  “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”

Pairing: Tony Stark/Justin Hammer x Fem!Reader

Summary:  Seaville, Maine, 1991. The sudden death of Tony Stark’s parents forces him to return to the town he left behind when he went to study at MIT (Boston). With his arrival, all the memories he thought he had erased come back to him. The events of his last year of high school and that summer of 1988 appear to him as if they were ghosts from the past, forcing him to confront them and causing him to rethink his life.

Warnings: Death of parents. Funeral. Drunkenness. 

Word Count: 5574

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Christmas 1991 (4th year at MIT)

Who would have thought that after leaving that small coastal town in the state of Maine and having promised himself never to set foot in that place again, he would have to return. On that December 17, 1991, the press and every other media outlet reported a devastating news story that had happened the night before, "Howard and Maria Stark die in a car accident on Seaville". The impact of the news was far and wide, the country woke up the next morning to a headline that generated controversy about how it had happened and who would take over Howard Stark's position at his company's New York headquarters.

But none of that was relevant to Tony Stark's mind, who barely uttered a word when Edwin Jarvis crashed the MIT Christmas party with a phone call to inform him of the event. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his blood, or the fact that he could barely hear his own thoughts under the infernal noise of techno music, but it took him a few minutes to react. Just a few hours ago a long discussion with his father over the phone had managed to infuriate him, the fact that he again decided to spend the holidays away from his family and did not choose to return to Seaville he knew that his father cared little, but any excuse was good to lash out at him, or at least Tony thought so.

The first thing that came to his mind as he reacted were the last words addressed to each of them, a clearly sarcastic discussion with his father and a feigned indifference towards his mother because of his anger, who was trying to calm the situation between the two of them. That was the last thing the three of them experienced and it would mark Tony Stark's life forever.

The Stark family owned a multinational technology company that spread its power throughout the country, and Howard Stark had been in charge of it, as he was the one who ran it from its beginnings until his death. Few were the memories of Tony's childhood in which his father was present, he was always travelling and when they met again during the holidays they barely spoke to each other, because whenever they did, a fight between them would come to light. That was how Tony had written off their relationship. But things were different with his mother, who always tried to mediate between them and cared about him. It was she who interceded when Howard wanted to send Tony to boarding school abroad, or when she wanted him to change his residence to New York.

As he remembered all those things, a pang of guilt came over young Tony Stark, but Jarvis's words from the other end of the phone line brought him back to his senses.

"The funeral will be held first thing tomorrow morning, sir. You don't have to worry about anything, it's all set," Tony who stood leaning against a door frame in the fraternity house nodded impassively. "A car will pick you up in two hours so you can get there on time, sir?"

"Thank you Jarvis," he said deadpan just before he hung up the phone again and faced one of the hardest nights.

The apathy that can produce tragic situations in people can be somewhat frivolous, especially if you are one of those people who find it difficult to express your feelings.  The drive from Boston to Seaville took about four hours, some roads were impassable due to the snowfall that had occurred during that winter period. The numerous phone calls he had received along the way, most of them about the future of the family business, added to his apathy. No one understood how he felt, let alone anyone else, and he was alone in the world with Jarvis.

He took in the closeness of the place as he gazed out to sea. Seaville was known for its beautiful sunsets overlooking Maine Bay, the town had a population of just eight thousand, but it maintained an unblemished reputation as a community of artists and sailors, a fact that added to the economic status of the region. Maria Stark, formerly Collins, was born there, and it was her affection for her roots that led her to settle there again when she became pregnant with Tony's child. For a time Tony also shared her love of Seaville, but there were too many negative memories buried in the streets for him to return of his own free will.

When Tony saw the sign indicating the start of the Seaville settlement for the first time in four years, the knot that had been sitting in his stomach for hours increased its pressure, preventing him from barely breathing. He opted to keep his gaze fixed on a set of documentation about the company that Obadiah Stane had sent him before his departure from Boston, and tried to concentrate his thoughts on external things.

"Sir, we're here," the gentleness in Jarvis' voice reassured Tony after pulling him out of his thoughts.

The words spoken by the young adult had been sparse, barely possessing more than one syllable. As he stepped out of the car he recognised the place, and it was just then that it crossed his mind that he wished anything could have stood in his way, just so he would not have come to this place.

The funeral had been arranged in the Seaville cemetery, a place on the top of a small hill surrounded by a wide grassy esplanade with birch trees. Jarvis stood by his side, waiting for him to take his first step to join him, but Tony's limbs seemed to be locked at that very moment.

"Your mother always spoke of the peace of this place," he commented, urging Tony to walk. "She would have wanted something intimate."

The funeral had been arranged as quickly as possible to avoid the crowds and to keep the wishes his mother would have wanted. The last thing he expected was for them to turn his parents' funeral into a public event and for any news channel or media outlet, national or international, to broadcast it like it was a bloody movie.

"That's right."

After Tony took the first step, the next two hours went quicker than he would have thought, Jarvis was right in his words, there was peace in the place and Tony found that out. It was fortunate for him that they arrived when most people were already there, it meant that for the moment he didn't have to hear any comments lamenting the event from anyone present. So he just hid his gaze under a pair of sunglasses, avoiding eye contact with any grieving faces. He recognised many of those present, from employees of local businesses to some Stark Industries officials who had managed to arrive in time after hearing the news. Still, while he wanted to avoid bumping into anyone, he was hopeful of the presence of several people, who were probably not going to be there for external reasons. Either because they did not yet know the news or were not in town at the time.

With the reverend's last words the coffins of his parents were lowered and buried several feet underground. Tony was unable to take on the role of offering a few words, he simply stood there quietly and received the condolences of several of those present. As they passed by one by one, Tony merely offered them a simple nod with his face, barely looking up. It was minutes later when Jarvis put his hand on his shoulder, awaiting their departure for the car, but Tony needed a moment.

"You can go to reception, Jarvis, I'll stay a bit longer," he informed her. "By the way, if you see that I haven't arrived before I'm done, don't worry, just go home."

"I don't know if..."

"Please, Jarvis," she said without looking at him.

"All right, sir."

The funeral reception at the home of his youth would only foster an increase in his feelings of guilt, he would not be able to walk through that door and lock himself within those four walls, find out if everything was as he left it or if there had been any changes in the four years since he left for MIT, so he decided to let time pass.

He reached a point where the sun was setting, his mind hadn't noticed the passage of time but he sat in that chair for three hours. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed a presence behind him until the person approached the graves and dropped a small bunch of daisies on the freshly scattered sand, a fact that made Tony wipe away his tears quickly.

Tony stood up while being grateful for the change in his body's posture, his watery eyes didn't allow him to recognise the figure at first, but after blinking a couple of times he realised that his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. It was you. You didn't hesitate to approach him and put your arms around his shoulders, causing Tony's body to become paralysed. His wits had been switched off for hours, as had his mind, but that moment brought his senses back to life. Your scent, your warmth, your body contact, your eyes, and hearing your breath so close again turned his broken heart.

"I..." began Tony in a whisper.

"Don't say anything," you cut him off without breaking the embrace.

After a minute you opted to pull away, seeking eye contact with him, which was prevented by Tony's sunglasses, so without giving up you reached up to them and slowly took them off, noticing that under them those hazel eyes were still present, slightly reddened.

"There you are," you said with a wistful smile.

Tony hated himself for not being able to cope properly with the moment that was unfolding before him. But he accepted that you of all people knew his limitations when it came to expressing feelings, whether they were positive or negative. It was true, you knew, so having enjoyed seeing that under that suit and his new appearance he was still the same Tony Stark you knew, you put his glasses back in place.

"I guess you'll be wishing you were alone," you said, lowering your gaze. "You know where to find me if you need me."

You offered him one last smile, which almost took Tony's breath away and, just as you had reached him, you turned around to continue on your way.

Unlike the funeral, the news seemed to have already been published in most of the sensationalist media in the country, so the funeral reception at the Stark house welcomed more than two hundred people who wanted to give their condolences, but those condolences never reached Tony, as he hardly appeared there. It wasn't until after half past ten at night, with the moon showing its clear figure in the sky, that he came face to face with his past.

Jarvis had taken it upon himself to collect every bit of food and flowers that the guests had brought with them, a gesture that Tony was grateful for, for now he only had to face his past memories and not the present situation. As he entered the hall and walked into the living room he realised that it was a vivid image of his childhood, the mantelpiece displayed before him filled with Christmas decorations, a large tree full of ornaments, most of them homemade, made by his mother, garlands draped around the mantelpiece and Christmas boots. That was a shock. After clicking her tongue, she opted to walk away in the direction of the kitchen, the knot in her stomach having mingled with roars informing her that she'd better eat something if she didn't want to pass out. Jarvis had been considerate enough to save some leftovers from the reception, so he grabbed the plate of larded meat and headed off to face the floor above. The night was going to be a long one.

After climbing the wide marble stairs he discovered a closed door at the end of the corridor, with a sign reading "Genius at work", those three words provided perhaps the first smile in hours. He walked towards it with a series of doubts in his gut, but eager to know what he would find behind it. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, the first thing his senses picked up was a deep musty smell, the gloom was still there, but soft rays from the moon coming through the window made him resemble each of the furniture and objects there.

Before him time had not passed, his large room filled with gadgets on every shelf and desk remained just as he had left it before he left for MIT in the summer of 1988. He placed the plate on the bedside table and slipped his hands into his pockets, walking around the room. His outward calmness was extreme, though inside he seemed to be distressed and nostalgic. A crunching sound under the soles of his shoes made him realise that several screws and pieces of metal were lying on the carpet. Everything was as messy as he left it, even that robot he had made for his last academic year in high school was in pieces on the desk.

"Idiot," she said, glaring at him.

It was at that very moment that it dawned on him how exhaustion, both mental and physical, was consuming them. Tony flopped face down on his bed with his eyes closed, letting the fragrance of his sheets envelop his senses. Every aspect of his surroundings seemed to take him back to his high school years, so he struggled to keep it from happening, opening his eyes again and recomposing himself on the mattress. He slowly surveyed every nook and cranny of his bedroom again, until he let his gaze linger on a wooden box next to a trophy from the state's Artificial Intelligence contest.

"Shit..." he muttered to himself.

He knew its contents, he knew that it was perhaps the most dangerous thing to be found in those four walls, he knew that it was possibly the thing that was going to destabilise him emotionally, but he had to get his hands on it again and open it. So he jumped towards that shelf and took the box in his hands, opening the lid and making all the contents scattered on his bed.

Dozens of photographs practically flew out of the box and landed on the bedspread, each one showing a unique moment in Tony's life, the curious thing is that in the vast majority of them you were present, and when you weren't, it was you who had taken them. On the white borders were written different words, in your handwriting, leaving a record of when and where they were taken. "Steve's seventeenth birthday", "First game of the 1987 season", "Christmas 1985", "First day of high school Steve, Murph, Nat and Tony" "Graduation day", "Murph trying to fish with Nat", "Murph's eighteenth birthday", "Beach party", "Murph driving to Portland", "Murph roasting clouds", "Murph..."

A clattering noise pulled Tony out of the halo of longing he had become, that damn automatic mobile phone that was impossible to break away from as it was the only thing that connected him to his future, Stark Industries, began to ring. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but fleetingly disappeared as he wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket before picking up the phone.

"Hello?" he asked with his eyes closed and his head down.

One of the company's senior managers was behind the phone line from New York, the discussion became heated, they were demanding his presence at the company's New York headquarters as soon as possible. He had been receiving those calls ever since the tragic accident had reached the shareholders' ears, the curious thing is that none of them were to inquire about his state of mind or even his state of mind, so that was how it pushed him over the edge, showing the hidden feelings he had inside.

"My parents are fucking dead and that's all you care about?" he shouted into the phone. "Can't you stop thinking about your own interests for once in your life?"

The device landed against the headboard of his bed, the funny thing is that even so the voice of the major shareholder was still making its presence felt, to which Tony completely beside himself left the room and closed the door generating a deafening echo throughout the house. He knew he was not going to be quiet until he did what these people wanted, his freedom was gone, too many things were gone. From that moment on, he had become one of the most powerful men in the country overnight, and in the same way he had acquired numerous responsibilities that he was not yet ready to assume.

As he dropped in the middle of the stairs, hiding his face with his hands, a strong headache came over him, an accumulation of sensations and feelings prevented him from reacting to calm down, it was then that after a few minutes he went downstairs quickly, heading towards his father's cupboard in the office. During his youth he had approached that cupboard too many times, usually full of alcoholic beverages, but when he went to open it, he was shocked to find it completely empty. He hoped that the location of those bottles had changed to somewhere else, so Tony opted to quickly rummage through any place he could think of where there might be a bottle, but his search was in vain.

"Shit!" he slapped his hand on the kitchen counter. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Almost unconsciously he headed back to his father's office and opened the top desk drawer, where he found a box with a combination, oddly enough the one from his birthday, inside was a collection of keys, he pulled out the one to his red porsche.

He knew and acknowledged that the state of nerves he was in was not the best to get behind the wheel, but he was really desperate, and there was no one to slow him down at that moment. He drove to the first place that came to his mind, as there were not really too many choices in that coastal town that could be found open at that time of night. On the side of Maine Bay, near Seaville harbour, was the Captain Lou's, a perfect place to go for a fresh fish dinner or after-dinner drinks.

He was driving at such high speeds that it took him barely five minutes to pull into the car park, braking so aggressively that he left wheel marks on the road. He got out of the car still wearing his funeral clothes, with his hair completely dishevelled and hiding his eyes under his sunglasses. The place was a fisherman's house situated on an old pier, there was a small porch before entering where a small bell rang as Tony opened the door, he instantly recognised old Lou behind the bar, who was still holding his place as usual. He looked around, taking off his sunglasses for the first time, leaving his brown eyes completely swollen and reddened, which would make an impression on anyone who saw him, but Tony didn't really care at the moment. Still, he was grateful that the place wasn't too rowdy, just two small groups of adults and a couple at a far table. The bar was completely empty, so he took a seat at it, when Lou approached he was a bit perplexed by his presence, but he chose to take it as a matter of course.

"Sorry about your parents Tony," he said wiping the bar right in front of him.

"Give me two of the strongest you've got," he said ignoring her comment.

Just as Lou had poured him two glasses of whiskey, Tony digested them seconds later, informing him to refill them. Tony knew what he wanted, a night to forget, perhaps in the worst place to forget, as it was all memories. While he waited for a refill, as Lou was hesitating, Tony turned his gaze to the far table where the couple were having a drink, since he had entered there was something strange on that table, he thought he had seen someone familiar, he squinted his eyes hoping to sharpen his sense of sight, which was quite impaired at the moment, but it dawned on him. It was you, again, with an unknown boy whose face he couldn't see, as his back was to Tony. Without taking his eyes off you, he quickly gulped down the two glasses of whiskey Lou had poured for him.

"Put the bottle down," he said without paying attention to Lou.

The minutes passed, he was hesitant, irritated, distressed and completely broken inside by the accumulation of situations he had experienced in less than a day, and now he found you there, listening to your laughter, with an unknown guy. It was really the last thing he needed to end the day. The alcoholic solution was slowly affecting his senses, he had barely eaten all day, his only intake had just been four glasses of whiskey and that increased his feeling of drunkenness, along with all his negative emotions. As if something inside him was guiding him to you, Tony picked up the bottle of whiskey, which Lou had definitely been forced to leave on the bar, and staggered up from the stool. His jaw completely rigid, he walked as if an external force was pushing him from side to side, until he reached your table. You could hardly believe your eyes, the same thing happened to Tony, he could hardly believe you were there, next to him, and what hurt him the most was that you hadn't stopped laughing since he practically walked in. That generated the rage that joined with his sarcasm coming out.

"Tony..." you whispered, causing your companion to look up at him.

"Wow! But who do we have here?" a hysterical laugh came from within you. "The prodigious Justin Hammer. Wow... I didn't see you at my parents' funeral, how strange, with how fond you were of my father... I thought I'd see you around."

Yes, your escort that night was Justin Hammer, the cherry on top to make him remember Tony.

"Ah, no, that all that love was just because you wanted to get a good position at Stark Industries," Tony dropped his hand on Justin's shoulder and approached him. "Bingo! Now I'm the CEO, are you going to lick my ass like my father too?" the Stark sarcasm was again booming.

Your gaze flicked between Tony and Justin, who kept a straight face, keeping his composure in the situation. Tony took a small swig from the bottle he held firmly in his right hand, he could barely see your faces as his mind was affected in multiple ways.

"Oh, sorry for the interruption by the way," a burp came from inside him. "Was that a date? Are you two dating?" Tony arched an eyebrow pointing at you respectively. "Oh man, I see you didn't get a position at my company, but you hit the jackpot," he began to laugh. "Hey! I'm glad, you two make a cute couple. Yeah! I mean it, you're perfect for each other."

Tony's bitter words came out under your serious and sorrowful gaze. "Mind you, I have to warn you that in bed..." he began, but you instantly got up from your chair and grabbed his shoulders.

"Alright Tony, I think you've had enough to drink for tonight," you gripped the bottle tightly, in a failed attempt to take it from him.

Tony's impediment to having the bottle taken from him caused him to stumble into the table behind him, causing him to lose his balance, to which Justin Hammer quickly got up to try and hold him down.

"Don't even think about touching me," Tony said in a somewhat aggressive tone with a scowl.

"Tony..." you pleaded holding him by the arm.

The plea that came from between your lips made him react before the situation reached a point where there was no turning back. Hearing his name and seeing your gaze, he felt as if a dagger was stabbing into his heart, another one.

"Yep... I'd better go. Show's over here for today," Tony said, putting on his jacket properly and stumbling towards the bar, leaving two hundred dollar notes behind. "Keep the change, Lou, I'll take the bottle."

Just as he had walked in, well, with a drunken state in his body, he walked out. The door closed behind him, to which Tony then made a difficult attempt to descend the stairs without holding onto the railing at the same time as he pulled the keys to the Porsche out of his back pocket. The five metres to the car seemed like an eternity trying to maintain a dignified posture as he fought against the spinning of his head, but it was just as he was about to open the driver's door that a presence pulled him back.

"I'm not going to let you take the car in this state," Tony smiled broadly with arrogance as he sensed your presence behind him. "I don't want to go to another funeral tomorrow."

"I think your date would love to attend."

His mood was completely bipolar, a minute ago he might have been able to throw Hammer out the window, right now his arrogance was winning the day. Reluctantly you snatched the keys from his hands, heading for the passenger door while holding Tony by the arm.

"Just like that? Honey, I knew how much you loved my car and how much fun we had, but..." a half smile, his half smile that drove you so crazy, both in the positive and negative sense came across Tony's face.

"Shut the fuck up, get in the car and let me take you home so I can sleep soundly tonight," your voice sounded stiff and angry.

"Why don't you stay?" whispered Tony in a poor attempt to show seduction, as his voice sounded drunk and gave off a strong smell of alcohol. "Although I can't promise it's going to be a quiet night."

Your mood wasn't prepared to put up with Tony's nonsense, let alone in his state, so you pushed his head towards the inside of the car. From there, Tony could watch as you said goodbye to Justin, to whom you handed the bottle of Whiskey he had admirably taken from Tony without him even noticing, and then climbed in beside him.

"Tell me the truth, you and Justin Hammer?" the laughter of Tony flooded the place as you started the car. "How quickly you forget the hard knocks of the past."

"You have no idea..." you whispered wryly to yourself.

"Honey, I think you can do better than that," the arrogance was in his voice, which reminded you of times gone by.

You listened to his comments in silence, keeping your eyes on the road, avoiding getting into a stupid argument with someone who was drunk and barely able to cope with the many feelings he had.

"I recognise that look, you're angry," he continued, breaking the silence. "I know, I get it, I've ruined your date tonight. Although I must admit it didn't look very stimulating from the outside, but I'm not one to judge."

"Exactly," you mused.

"I was quite surprised though, I thought that by now you and Steve... well you know, that you would be together, after everything that happened..." those words from Tony caused your right foot to stop dead in its tracks at that instant.

"After what happened?!" the disbelief was in your eyes. "Alright... Look Tony, you're nobody to show up here after three and a half years of showing no signs of life and barge into other people's lives to judge them. So shut your mouth and let me take you home quietly."

Those words of Tony's had struck a chord within you, your eyes became watery.

"You know I didn't come back because I wanted to," Tony said seriously. "But don't worry, I'll disappear from here tomorrow."

"Great. It's what you do best."

Instantly you regretted what you had said. The ride to the Stark residence continued in silence, neither of us taking it upon ourselves to break it. Tony kept his head leaning against the window, eyes closed, head lolling slightly against the glass, but strangely he had found comfort in the position. As you walked into the garden you got out of the car without so much as a glance at her, slamming the door which was what seemed to wake him up and let him know you had reached your destination.

"You know where the phone is," Tony reported, opening the car door and clumsily getting out.

It seemed like hours before he reached the front door, found the keys, managed to choose the right key, inserted it into the lock and opened it. In the kitchen the phone was waiting for you, you were lucky that there was a phone book and it didn't take you long to find the number of the taxi service.  In the meantime Tony dropped his body on the sofa.

"The taxi won't be long, I'd better wait for it at the entrance," you approached him.

"Great," Tony said impassively.

The room was spinning around inside Tony's head, he kept his eyes open and staring at the ceiling, it was funny, he thought, he used to get drunk regularly at college parties, but this seemed to have affected him as if he had never tasted alcohol before.

"You know," Tony said without looking at you. "There was always the idea in the back of my mind that things could have been otherwise, if it hadn't been for..."

"Don't finish the sentence. Or you know you'll regret saying it tomorrow," you stopped your steps, as you were already heading to leave, and turned around to look at him. "Look, I don't know what you want Tony. I don't know what you want me to say, and I don't know what you're looking for by stirring up the past with your words. I understand it's been a hard day, maybe the hardest day, and I can't come to grips with what you might be going through," you knelt down beside him. "If you need my help, I've told you before, you know where I am, but please let's not make this night any more complicated," your words were soft, so soft that Tony turned his gaze to you.

There you were again, on that couch, Tony lying down, you kneeling next to him, looking at each other, neither of you would have ever thought that scene could ever happen. Your words were tender, you felt vulnerable in front of him at that moment, and all he really needed was someone to show him affection, even though he didn't know it.

"The last thing I want right now is to argue with you," you whispered, ducking your face. "I'm sorry for yelling at you in the car earlier, and I'm sorry for what I said. I don't want my last memory of you to be like that."

It had been years since the two of you had been within such close distance of each other. Tony found that despite the haircut, your appearance had hardly changed. That mole under his left eye was still there, and the rosy cheeks you'd gotten from the cold still gave him a glimpse of the field of freckles that covered them. The small scar on your chin, which you got when you fell off your bike because he had thrown the football in your direction, was also there. A shudder came over you, causing you to quickly get up from that position and regain your composure, as a hundred memories seemed to come flooding back. Tony made an attempt to sit up, but at that moment the horn of a car saved the situation.

"Oh!" you looked at Tony and pointed to the front door. "I'd better go, I.... Goodnight Tony."

"Goodnight..." mused Tony watching you leave.

Silence took over the house again after the front door closed following your departure. Tony stood there, staring at the emptiness you had left for the second time in him, thinking of a title for your whole story.

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[mostlysignssomeportents]

All the books I reviewed in 2020

I know it's a little late for Xmas shipping, but I'm FINALLY getting around to publishing a roundup of all the books I reviewed in 2019!

Part 1: FICTION FOR ADULTS

I. AGENCY by William Gibson: A sequel to The Peripheral for the Trump years, about seductive bitterness of imagined alternate timelines, filled with cyberpunk cool and action.

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/books/story/2020-01-24/agency-william-gibson

II. RIOT BABY by Tochi Onyebuchi: An incandescent Afrofuturist novella that connects the Rodney King uprising with contemporary struggle, pitting supernatural powers against dire politics.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/23/riot-baby/#Tochi-Onyebuchi

III. OR WHAT YOU WILL by Jo Walton: A metafiction about the desperate attempt of a character to pull his writer into a fictional world to save the both from human mortality.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/07/little-bro-with-snowden/#metafiction

IV. A BEAUTIFULLY FOOLISH ENDEAVOR by Hank Green: Sequel to An Absolutely Remarkable Thing - a madcap and sometimes brutal tale of social media influencers, alien invaders, disinformation, and runaway capitalism.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/08/absolutely-remarkable-thing/#carls

V. FAILED STATE by Christopher Brown: A legal eco-thriller that imagines the end of capitalism without imagining the end of the world - cyberpunk meets ecotopianism, with anarchist jurisdictions, show-trials, and rewilding.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/12/failed-state/#chris-brown

VI. AFTERLAND by Lauren Beukes: Eerily well-timed road-trip novel set after a prostate-cancer plague wipes out nearly every man on Earth, except for the protagonist's teenaged son, who is now being hunted by the (all-female) US government.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/28/afterland/#XY

VII. BALLISTIC KISS by Richard Kadrey: Sandman Slim confronts the worst demons of all - his own trauma and self-doubt.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/25/anxietypunk/#bk

VIII. SQUEEZE ME by Carl Hiaasen: Hiaasen was writing comedic whodunnits about improbable Florida Man types decades before the memes, and his Mar-a-Lago gator plague novel is a hectic and hilarious tale for our times.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#disappearing-act

VIII. The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson: KSR says it's his last novel and I say it's the book he's been training to write all his life. If you like your climate fiction wrenching but still uplifting enough to move you to tears...

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/03/ministry-for-the-future/#ksr

IX. SET MY HEART TO FIVE by Simon Stephenson: An absurdist robot-romp in the mold of Kurt Vonnegut about a robot who catches the disease of emotions and tries to treat it by moving to Hollywood to write screenplays about robots.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/01/cant-pay-wont-pay/#robot-rights

Part 2: NONFICTION FOR ADULTS

I. A PUBLIC SERVICE by Tim Schwartz: An incredibly practical, detailed guide for would-be whistleblowers (and journalists who work with them) to staying safe while spilling the beans.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/08/a-public-service-a-comprehensive-comprehensible-guide-to-leaking-documents-to-journalists-and-public-service-groups-without-getting-caught/

II. THE MONSTERS KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING by Keith Ammann: A sourcebook for RPG game-masters explaining how different kinds of monsters can use a variety of combat tactics that add depth, texture (and challenge) to your games.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/10/the-monsters-know-what-theyre-doing-an-rpg-sourcebook-for-dms-who-want-to-imbue-monsters-with-deep-smart-tactics/

III. SNOWDEN'S BOX by Jessica Bruder and Dale Maharidge: The incredible, true tale of how trust among friends allowed Snowden's leaks to safely transit from his home in Hawai'i to the hands of Laura Poitras and the journalists who reported the story.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/03/31/snowdens-box-the-incredible-illuminating-story-of-the-journey-of-snowdens-hard-drive/

III. ABOLISH SILICON VALLEY by Wendy Liu: A personal journey from a fully bought-in believer in Silicon Valley's meritocracy to a ferocious critic who demands tech to serve humanity, not a human race in service to the tech industry.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/04/14/abolish-silicon-valley-memoir-of-a-driven-startup-founder-who-became-an-anti-capitalist-activist/

IV. THE CASE FOR A JOB GUARANTEE by Pavlina Tcherneva: A fierce little book setting out an economic program to rescue the nation and the planet from a system that insists we can't even hope for a better world.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/22/jobs-guarantee/#job-guarantee

VII. SUBPRIME ATTENTION CRISIS by Tim Hwang: What's worse than having our lies destroyed by surveillance to manipulate us with ads? Having our lives destroyed by surveillance in order to fuel a fraudulent market in ad-based manipulation.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

VIII. MONOPOLIES SUCK by Sally Hubbard: There are plenty of *great* books about monopolies and the resurgence in antitrust, but Hubbard's is the most practical, providing the reader with excellent advice for actually *doing something* about monopolism.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/27/peads-r-us/#sally-hubbard

IX. BREAK 'EM UP by Zephyr Teachout: The most lucid, readable, infuriating, energizing book on the rise of monopolies. Teachout never loses sight of the systemic nature of the problem, even as she uses individual stories to tell the tale.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

X. BOUNDLESS REALM by Fox Nolte: There has never been a better book about the Haunted Mansion (indeed, this is one of the best books ever written about environmental design in general). Nolte goes *way* beyond trite wisdom about "storytelling."

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/09/boundless-realm/#fuxxfur

PART 3: GRAPHIC NOVELS

I. YEAR OF THE RABBIT by Tean Viasna: A graphic memoir of Viasna's harrowing boyhood during the rise of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. It's a tale we've rarely seen through the eyes of a child, and brilliantly realized.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/22/year-of-the-rabbit-a-graphic-novel-memoir-of-one-familys-life-under-the-khmer-rouge/

II. FEMALE FURIES by @misscecil​: Castellucci uses an obscure and anachronistic all-woman cast of DC Universe b-characters to tell an incredible, smart, pitiless story about #MeToo, comics, solidarity and betrayal.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/29/female-furies/#apokolips-now

III. LONELINESS OF THE LONG-DISTANCE CARTOONIST by Adrian Tomine: A memoir of intensely felt impostor syndrome, a forceful reminder that comparison is the thief of joy - and that the traits that keep an artist going at first go toxic over time.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/21/the-thief-of-joy/#tomine

IV. CONSTITUTION ILLUSTRATED by R Sikoryak: The Trump years were an unhappy crash-course in Constitutional law, but Sikoryak's genius adaptation of the Constitution in the style of dozens of cartoonists is a pure delight.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/27/ip/#r-sikoryak

PART 4: KIDS AND YA

I. SEND PICS by Lauren McLaughlin: A YA novel that's a thrilling revenge-play about "revenge porn," a cyber-heist novel that's also a sneaky and forceful book about teen girls' sexuality.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/04/21/send-pics-ripping-brutal-amazing-novel-about-teens-sextortion-revenge-and-justice/

II. IMPOSSIBLE MUSIC by Sean Williams: A YA novel about a music-obsessed kid who loses his hearing is the frame for a book about ability, adaptation, music theory, family, Deafness and what dreams are really for.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/30/deafhood/#impossible-music

III. HARD WIRED by Len Vlahos: A 15 year old discovers the truth behind bizarre dysfunction of the world around him: he's an AI in a sim, and the guy he thinks of as his long-dead father is actually the research scientists who created him.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/31/ai-rights-now/#len-vlahos

IV. ADVENTURES OF A DWERGISH GIRL, by Daniel Pinkwater: Like every Pinkwater novel, it defies description, it is brilliant, and it is his best to date. Ghosts, Revolutionary War fleshbots, papaya juice, and supernatural beings from the Catskills!

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/25/dwergish-girl/#you-are-a-pickle

V. WITCH by Finbar Hawkins: A beautiful debut novel about a pair of 17th century sisters who avenge themselves against the witchfinders that murdered their mother. A superbly told historical.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/01/the-years-of-repair/#witch

FINALLY: I published *four* books in 2020!

I. POESY THE MONSTER SLAYER: My debut picture book, about a little girl who turns her toys into weapons and torments her parents by hunting monsters all night, with wonderful art by Matt Rockefeller:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627

II. LITTLE BROTHER/HOMELAND: My multibestselling YA novels were reissued last summer in a gorgeous package with a (fantastic) new introduction by Snowden.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

III. ATTACK SURFACE: A standalone, adult sequel to Little Brother and Homeland. The New York Times called it "vocal and unflinching" and "ultimately optimistic"; the Washington Post called it a "riveting techno-thriller."

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

IV. HOW TO DESTROY SURVEILLANCE CAPITALISM: A long pamphlet/short book that makes the case that Big Tech manipulates us and spies on us because they have monopolies - not because they've developed devastating, data-driven mind-control.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

[passionate-reply]

This time on Great Albums, I talk about an album that actually isn’t older than I am for a change! Enter the spooky, haunted forest of The Knife with me, and find out why it was Pitchfork’s Album of the Year in 2006! Full transcript after the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be tackling an album that’s more recent than anything I’ve done on Great Albums before, but it’s still old enough to start being considered a classic: The Knife’s Silent Shout, released in 2006, and hence seeing its fifteenth birthday in 2021. Silent Shout is a bit special to me, insofar as it was an album I loved as a teenager, back when it was still pretty new, and it was probably the first album I really fell in love with that wasn’t significantly older than I was. I was quite surprised when I eventually learned just how beloved Silent Shout is among music aficionados. This album has been lauded in critical circles, recommended as a “patrician” essential, and even considered one of the greatest electronic albums of all time! So, what’s the fuss about?

Before Silent Shout, The Knife were significantly closer to a conventional electronic pop duo. Their biggest claim to fame was the track “Heartbeats,” which scored some exposure after a cover of it was featured in a TV ad.

Music: “Heartbeats”

I like to think that “Heartbeats” contains the seeds of what’s great about Silent Shout, with its grinding synth backing and vocalist Karin Dreijer’s affecting wail. But its indie-pop brightness is something distinctively absent from their follow-up. Contrary to what might’ve been expected from an up-and-coming pop act, the sibling duo hunkered down in the studio and set about making something stranger and more exotic. On the technical front, they stripped the production down to its bare essentials, using just digital rhythms and two synthesisers to achieve everything we hear on the album. Stylistically, they took their sound into moody, atmospheric territory, imbuing it with this eerie, claustrophobic ambiance. It’s the musical equivalent of Frankenstein emerging from Mary Shelley’s mind, while the dreary “Year Without a Summer” had poisoned the world around her.

Music: “Silent Shout”

The title track here is also the opener, and introduces us to the frightful world of Silent Shout without mercy. This track is dominated by a powerful contrast of sound: low, thrumming bass, and these quick, but delicate and meandering synth arpeggios, carrying a distinctively Scandinavian flair. This bewitching synthesis of musical ideas makes sense in light of the diverse influences of the two siblings who made up The Knife: Instrumentalist Olaf Dreijer was strongly influenced by dance styles like house, trance, and progressive techno, as well as ambient electronic music, whereas vocalist Karin Dreijer was interested in guitar-based popular music, as well as the distinctive folk traditions of their native Sweden. Not unlike the Pet Shop Boys, they’ve got a wide gap between their influences, but that only serves to intensify the uniqueness of their work, which strikes listeners in a way the constituent musical parts of its heritage never could. Perhaps the most significant sonic feature of the album, though, is the extreme electronic distortions of Karin Dreijer’s voice.

Music: “One Hit”

If raw and everymannish vocals make music feel more in line with our everyday reality, the shocking and monstrous ones on *Silent Shout* render it a truly otherworldly work of art. While many people are quick to decry the “fakeness” of electronically mediated vocals--despite the fact that all art is, of course, artificial--I think Silent Shout proves, more boldly than anything else, just how uniquely powerful this musical tool can be in the right hands. Once you get past the sheer sonic force of the vocals, and their peculiar, skin-crawling timbres, you’ll find that most of the lyrical subject matter is actually painfully quotidian. “One Hit,” for instance, is told from the perspective of an all-too-normal “monster”: a domestic abuser, extracting and enforcing femininity and domestic servitude through the force of violence, dealing in “one hit, one kiss.” Sex, gender, and exploitation based upon them are among the album’s most central themes, and expressed harrowingly on tracks like “Na Na Na”:

Music: “Na Na Na”

Perhaps moreso than any other track on the album, “Na Na Na” is rendered borderline incomprehensible by vocal treatment--a trait magnified by its obviously meaningless title and chorus. But “Na Na Na” does have real lyrics, which tell the story of a life mediated by reproductive anatomy, defined by the rhythm of menstruation, coming from within, and the constant fear of sexual violence from without. It’s a tale of hidden anxiety, and experiences that go unseen and unspoken despite how common they are, making the haze of inscrutability laid over them all the more poignant. It’s clear that these issues are of high importance to Karin Dreijer, who has publicly described themself as “genderqueer,” despite both members of the band being remarkably sparing with all personal details. In another of the most striking vocal performances on the album, “We Share Our Mother’s Health,” Dreijer even gets to sing a duet with themself, and embody two distinct characters at once.

Music: “We Share Our Mother’s Health”

“We Share Our Mother’s Health” can be read in the light of gender and sex dynamics, as well, particularly if you’re willing to read its twin narrators as representations of masculinity and femininity. Personally, though, I think that’s a bit too easy, and really, a bit too cisnormative. I think the album is more interesting if we embrace the fundamental uncertainty of identity, and the transgressive queerness of it all. That said, I prefer to think of “We Share Our Mother’s Health” as a piece about capitalism--the endless toiling and scrounging for more material comfort and security, and the emptiness left behind when that proves to be no pathway towards true happiness. Besides, it’s not like sexism and the class struggle don’t feed off of each other in the end. This track’s sense of cacophony, with voices nearly battling to drown each other out, shows its more strident, aggressive, and downright angry side, which it delivers as powerfully as it does those moody atmospheres.

Silent Shout is the perfect title for this album, given its emphasis on voicing internal and private laments that go unheard--and voicing them with this terrifying sense of primal scream catharsis. While I initially wasn’t overly fond of the album art, it’s grown on me a bit now that I’ve seen it blown up to a larger size. This central disc shape is certainly evocative of a record or a CD, and its industrial-looking lattice structure, with a mottled, grimey-looking texture, helps conjure the impression of machine-age ennui.

I think a lot of the enduring appeal of Silent Shout is its sense of mystery. A lot of that mystery is deliberately crafted iconoclasm, and part of the art--while promoting the album, The Knife were photographed wearing sinister, elaborate beaked “plague doctor” masks, and their live performances from this period shrouded the band in darkness to obfuscate their appearances. They’ve refused to accept awards for their music or attend award ceremonies, including one memorable incident in which they sent costumed representatives of feminist organisation Guerrilla Girls in their stead. After Silent Shout, the duo created an opera based on Charles Darwin’s The Origin of Species in 2009, and released one more studio album in 2013: Shaking the Habitual.

Music: “A Tooth For an Eye”

Shaking the Habitual received mixed reviews, and so far, has proven to be the siblings’ final work together, though they remain active as musicians independently, with Karin Dreijer recording under the moniker “Fever Ray.” Part of the great myth of Silent Shout is the fact that nothing else in their discography really quite approaches its specific sound, and sharp precision of conceptual focus. It’s like the album is tailor made to stand perfectly alone, outside of context, perhaps even outside of genre.

For many of us, this great legend of lightning-in-a-bottle genius is infinitely alluring. But I’ve never really bought into it too thoroughly myself. I obviously adore Silent Shout, and I think it’s a Great Album. But, unlike many people who have showered it with praise, often claiming that they don’t enjoy “electronic music” overall, I’ve always been interested in a lot of heavy, angry, creepy synthesiser-based music, and so I never thought too much of listening to this and liking it. People praise Silent Shout for being unlike anything else, but I think it sounds like a lot of post-industrial dark wave, like Attrition or Chris & Cosey, and its themes of feminist rage feel like a strong parallel to that of more recent stars of noise music such as Pharmakon and Lingua Ignota. But that’s not to devalue what Silent Shout does achieve! I think it *is* a unique album...in the way that a bat is a unique animal. Much as bats are not the only creatures who fly, but stand out for having developed that ability despite their mammalian heritage, Silent Shout doesn’t actually take direct inspiration from the earlier music it sounds the most like. It ended up there through the aforementioned eldritch alchemy, combining trance and folk and Kate Bush to get something new. That’s still something worth celebrating! Silent Shout needn’t be a perfect enigma to be a stirring masterpiece of an album.

My overall top track on Silent Shout, which I bet will be a popular choice, is “Forest Families.” It’s equal parts bleak and strangely anthemic, defined by both the unease of adapting to a plainer and harsher existence, outside the bounds of society, as well as the release that music itself provides to so many of us as we seek comfort. Since music is so important to me, I’m a real sucker for music about the importance of music, and it feels particularly well-placed on an album that’s a cathartic listen in so many ways. That about wraps this one up; thank you for watching!

Music: “Forest Families”

[luuurien]

Kyary Pamyu Pamyu - Candy Racer

(Dance Pop, Synthpop, J-Pop)

On what might be her most ordinary release yet, the less eccentric display of Kyary Pamyu Pamyu's artistry on Candy Racer doesn't mean her music lets up a bit. With longtime producer Yasutaka Nakata still at her side, the dopamine factory of a fifth album from the beloved Japanese star is another delightful slice of optimistic J-pop.

☆☆☆½

How can anyone dislike Kyary Pamyu Pamyu? Her persona and music has such a wide appeal while still being unique and thrilling that, even if you never return to her music more than once, you'll still easily understand why some love her. And even though it seems like her captivation of Western audiences has slowly gone down over the years after some interest was lost in her out-of-the-box Harajuku style, her Japanese fanbase hasn't dwindled a bit. And with that continued success in her home nation, her fifth album Candy Racer intentionally dilutes many of her most out-there qualities in favor of more approachable, addictive pop music. The results are as fantastic as usual: kinetic dance pop that urges the listener to move along with Pamyu. With all the calling cards you'd expect, the flashing neon lights of Candy Racer are about as mesmerizing as the most hot-pink hued drug you could imagine. Pamyu's bright and expressive singing forces these songs to be as energized as she is; thumping backbeats and leaping synths and major-key pianos all around. The sharp-bladed techno synths on the title track turn the verses into blurry-eyed EDM before the verses splurge on candescent arcade-machine synthpop, leading to one of the most rewarding song structures I've heard all year. Traditional Japanese mallets and percussion find their way into Kamaitachi and Kimigaiinekuretara, so cutesy and bright that the differences between it and the former track are blindsiding on a first listen. Pamyu's work constantly brings up the same feelings, possibly the one detriment to an album as uplifting as Candy Racer, but it's all in the effort to make the most optimal pop she can: bright, understanding, necessary. She's sure to not let any pop escape her radar, too: album finale World Fabrication is a tightly-squeezed slice of orchestral J-pop with the bustling, frantic instrumentation to match, a perfect way for Pamyu to end an album defined by its digital nature with one of her most chocolate-rich songs ever. Gum Gum Girl is the kind of Dance Dance Revolution electropop she does best, a rippling piece of house with enough glitter to cover a solar system with. A sort of technicolor, Shibuya-Kei R&B combo happens on Perfect Oneisan, a song only held back by being much too long for its own good while promising more in the way of smoother music in Pamyu's future catalog. Watching what happens when her hyperactive music gets put on a strawberry-flavor opiate is the most interesting part of Candy Racer for me, the potential switch for Pamyu from youthful pop hero to mature conductor of her own cartoon locomotive. It's easy to forget how young Kyary Pamyu Pamyu is because of how long she's been in the industry: with the release of Candy Racer, she's still only 28. With many more years for her music to develop even further, I'm not upset in the slightest that the album isn't majorly different from what she's done before. The small risks she takes throughout Candy Racer, while not enough to reinvent her artistry, show that she hasn't put herself in a box even as she hits her fifth album and her first of the new decade. When all the tickets she's earned over the years are counted up and she's ready to leave the brightly-lit five-story party house she's diligently constructed over the years. No matter what, Kyary Pamyu Pamyu knows exactly what she wants and just how she can get it. With that power growing exponentially as she gets older and wiser, who knows what she might be doing even three years down the line. For now, I'm perfectly content losing myself in the maze of cotton candy and electronic goodies she's laid out.

[manjuhitorie]

tat - Shinoda’s Hitori-Atelier blog posts - REAMP Digest volume 4

Shinoda’s blog post via Hitori-Atelier! Please consider joining Hitori-Atelier and supporting Hitorie’s ventures today. How-to here: https://boatmanju.wixsite.com/hitorietranslations/hitorie-atelier 

It’s already been 3 months since REAMP was released, time really flies.

In that short bit of time we’ve already planned a tour ahead of us, and were given the opportunity to do the opening for the anime ‘86′. Let’s fucking go~~~~~ Is everyone faring well? I've recently rekindled my passion for sampling, I haven't felt like this in years. I'm taking free samples I find strewn across the internet and turning them into techno. I kinda remember mentioning my appreciation for techno in vol. 1 of this blog series, and yeah. I'm finally trying it out for myself. I've managed to make a pretty sick song if I do say so myself. You'll find it on Hitori-Atelier soon enough. (＊This is most likely the song titled 'mad candy', found in 'Shinoda's Contents') It's fun 'cause compared to vocal stuff, I use a whole different part of my brain to make techno. I say "This part of this sample has a good beat to it, I bet if I rearranged it like this it would make music~" and do it. Relatively speaking, this kinda music making matches my personality type really well. I feel like I've found a fucking good hobby for myself here. With that said, even though it’s a hobby, work is still work so the collateral damage of music-making is still vividly affecting my body. Like music is still music, and with the way I tunnel vision I'll end up at my desk for an obscene amount of hours. By the time I'm done with it physically and mentally I'm a wreck. Like the fuck do I mean by hobby, is this some kinda shitty joke Shinoda? Anyway let's talk about 'tat'. The question as to what the title means comes first. Initially I wanted to name this song "刺青(meaning tattoo)". Because the song ‘Perfume’ by ‘Eito’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MjAJSoaoSo) was a huge hit at that time so yeah.. But that idea failed ygarshy's inspection so I had no choice but to look around for a word similar to tattoo.

That was when I found photos of tattoos on Instagram with the hashtag #tat. This is it, I said. As a slang tat can mean many other things as well but I forget what they were. I'm sure you can find out if you look it up but, take note that none of it has much to do with the song itself. I considered '#tat' for the title as well, but it was too lame so I pulled back. This song was written when the album was almost finished and most songs ready: I reviewed the album as whole and felt that something was missing. I had wanted something with now tat’s tempo and mood to it to tie the album together. It turned out really well, if I may say so myself. Isn't it a great song though? I feel like all my efforts were worthwhile... It's fun to let the creative juices flow and write with whatever comes to mind. I tried to make the amount of guitar notes concise and solid. The tone was supposed to be graceful too but... ygarshy swooped in with a kick and his bass so heavy it sounds like he's blasting music from a little motorcycle. The melody too has the same makings as the hits these days. It’s about someone of the opposite sex with a bold tattoo who’s stuck in days of ennui, and me who’s gazing from afar wondering what these feelings inside me are. It’s about that sorta thing (?) - I think I managed to express it (????) The beat isn’t made to be far off from modern tuning either. I’m sure I could’ve harmonized it even better but, at the time I found good reason to make it more rock band-y, so I have no regrets. I only wish I made the song name something easier to find via search. It’s so hard to find the people talking about it... Starting with a verse and closing a song with that same verse is great, ain’t it. I’ve always liked songs with a bit of a whacky structure to them, Like November in HOWLS, it goes from verse 2 back to verse 1 then into the instrumental break. If you think it’s just any old number then prepare to be sorely mistaken - Or, that kind of fetishy stuff is important for music if you ask me. I received a fair lot of praise from people in the song-writing industry about tat, I’m happy. Though I’m not sure about the lyrics. Someone from our workplace told me that “Mushy gushy heart-wrenching lyrics would fit well”, so I sought out to do exactly that. The only problem is that my expression of mushy gushy made that person from work go “????” so making people’s heart clench is hard shit. This doesn’t leave here okay.. My dismay over the discontinuation of Chikyuu Monogatari is vented in here a bit as well. Though I don’t think Chikyuu Monogatari is boring. Not really. I saw a few people say that ‘tat’ is like the evolution of cakebox. And it makes sense to me now that y’all say it. cakebox was my solo project I did back in my mid-20’s. I made 3 mini pieces with 7 tracks and 1 EP with 4 tracks before stopping. I’m sure only like 10 people in the whole world ever listened to it. If you look it up you can still get it to listen too. Like an offering of random ass songs to my dead school life, I had a phase between my late teens and my early 20’s wherein I was obsessed with making songs using just my voice and guitar. The question of direction was beyond my consideration, I just sorta let the creative juices flow back then too and promptly set pen to paper. That was my creative process cycle. It was kinda like a diary. There’s barely any proper complete songs. The reason being that I completely lacked the skill necessary to make them proper. My guitar was alright but my singing wasn’t up to par, no one ever praised my voice at all. So I resolved that I just wasn’t cut out for it and strove to be a lead guitarist. Instead of my own songs I chose to go do band stuff, thus devoted myself to guitar.   Yet still my desire to make something proper stuck with me, and so soon after that I started a band in which I did guitar and vocals. we mashed stuff together and made song proper. Alas. Between creative differences and my own lack of ability, we were barely able to make something that I was proud of. After shit happened I ended up at home immersed in making my own songs. “Surely I could put all my experiences in bands and my own growth to good use, to turn my backlog of WIPs into something proper as well?” I thought to myself, and thus was the beginning of cakebox. I think that was the first time I ever got involved in making my own music through my own power. But my way of intense creation was too innocent for listeners or something, or like I wasn’t conscious enough of my headfirst personality... So I didn’t even have the sense to match the tuning up with modernity, and ultimately my work wasn’t clicking with society’s needs. That reality was crushing me more and more with every piece I made. I didn’t have absolute confidence in myself or conviction to push through either. After 3 albums the feeling of “Why am I even doing this” grew, and I found more purpose in Hitorie instead. From then on I devoted myself to Hitorie. These past few years in Hitorie have been nothing but learning experiences for me. After years of the four of us together stressing over what makes good music, I think my own work has leveled up as well. One thing I learned that has especially stuck with me, even now, is leader’s unwavering stance on “Believing that I’m just no matter what”.   For someone with my relative dispositions it’s a nigh impossible stance, and at often times I felt it was egoistic of him but... It’s what led him to create such powerful music, and it’s something we depended on greatly. The other day I gave Unhappy Refrain a full listen for the first time in a while. It’s perfect in every way, what the hell. Vocaloid as a genre was still establishing itself back then, and without a doubt this album served as a monument for the cause. The same way ‘my bloody valentine’’s ‘loveless’ was the cherry on top for the shoegazer genre. It’s made an immovable unsurpassable mark on music history. I really was in a band with a crazy person. To think that when I was in a band with him I more saw myself as the crazy amazing one. What the fuck was up my ass. I understand why felt the need for a band after making this album - why he brought us together - even more now. The obscene amount of notes in that album with a tone reeking of rock band stuff... It’s really flooded with his innocent yearning for rock music. I think the troubles he faced following Unhappy Refrain were the repercussions of him making such a huge monumental piece. But his stout core belief in himself - that he’s just - has stood equally as tall as that monument all the way. Now, after so many twists of fate.. I never thought I’d be writing AND singing my own songs for Hitorie like this. Except, one difference between the me of now VS. the me of old is that I don’t feel even a smidgen of unconfidence. I’m not worrying that I “don’t stand out” or “don’t suit societies needs” anymore. I feel like ‘tat’ might be the best song in the album (sorry ygarshy and Yumao). To the point that when people praise it I merely agree with them, “No lies detected” I say.

It’s all thanks to my time spent with Hitorie, the musical knowledge we sharpened, and the fact that my bandmates’ amazing performances have my back. If I don’t have something as big as this supporting me then I’ll just be a fucking chicken with no confidence in my music, after all. With that said, Music made by you yourself is an irreplaceable treasure, “If you made something good, then be proud”: this lesson of mindset was taught to me by Leader. It’s a really life-changing way to be so... If I mimic Leader at least this lil’ bit no one would make a bad face at me, right? What do y’all think? With that that said, the actual most pure thing that’s naturally come out of my head in years, with my actttual emotions stuffed in, is... The actttttual best song is “Utsutsu” if you ask me so. Look forward to the next entry of this blog series, y’hear me. Shinoda