#suffocate is one of my fave songs this year and I played this entire album to dust

[vulcanette]

KNOCKED LOOSE FT POPPY- SUFFOCATE ❗️

[tinymixtapes]

Feature: 2017: Third Quarter Favorites

As we stumble into the final quarter of the year, TMT would like to temper the political incoherence and informational carelessness of the last few months with another transmission from our trusty quarter-list propaganda machine. And you, dear reader, are invited! Whether it was transcendental smackdowns (Young Thug) or moonlit ruminations (The National), unlistenable prayers (Lingua Ignota) or symbol play (Giant Claw), 2017’s summer sounds found our bodies trembling (Pan Diajing), swiped like a shoe along concrete ($3.33), and glowing with deceitful charm (White Poppy). It didn’t matter if it was coming from the Dar Es Salaam underground (Nyege Nyege Tapes), a modded 70s Speak & Spell (White Suns), or Jack Rabbit’s Palace (Twin Peaks); it didn’t matter if it was evinced by lurker auteurs (Nmesh), sonic ecologists (Avey Tare), or one Pretty Bitch (Lil B). In the face of an ever-increasing shitshow, the last three months of music carried on like if often does: with a mix of hope, absurdity, and some exquisite world-building, with hearts both heavy (death’s dynamic shroud) and gentle (Mark Templeton). The full list can be found below, but first check out our ridiculously long list of releases that didn’t make the feature proper. And thanks, as always, for reading! Shortlist: Yves Tumor’s Experiencing The Deposit Of Faith, Nate Scheible’s Fairfax, Tzusing’s 東方不敗, Jay Glass Dubs’s Glacial Dancehall, Shabazz Palaces’s Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines, HKE’s HEEL AESTHETIC, Windy & Carl’s Blues For A UFO, Shabazz Palaces’s Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines, woopheadclrms’s Meeting Room + Rare Plants (Ukiuki Atama), Youngboy Never Broke Again’s AI YoungBoy, Costanza’s George, Mount Kimbie’s Love What Survives, Femminielli Noir’s Echec & Mat, I am just a Pupil’s CRYSTAL PAIN, Léo Hoffsaes & Loto Retina’s Early Contact, Arve Henrikson’s Towards Language, Schneider Kacirek’s Radius Walk, S.W.’s The Album, Damien Dubrovnik’s Great Many Arrows, Alan Vega’s IT, chris†††’s social justice whatever, and Ariel Pink’s Dedicated to Bobby Jameson. --- Nmesh Pharma [Orange Milk] [WATCH · LISTEN · REVIEW] With Pharma, lurker auteur Nmesh has both legitimized and destroyed the vapor-non-genre, virus-like, from within. Now entombed in some lo-poly pyramid, we can see the ‘wave for what it was: a dig through the garbage-dump archives of the 1990s to recover, warp, and recontextualize whatever memories got lost beneath the pile. The samples and annotations would be nothing, though, without the music, and lucky for you Pharma delivered well on this front. Not only is this Nmesh’s best album to date, but these 26 tracks (plus many remixes) ran rings around an entire micro-era of electronic music, wearing it out until the soul within was revealed. Plus, how brazen is that Ferris Bueller sample? –Dylan Pasture --- Pan Daijing Lack [PAN] [LISTEN · REVIEW] Abstract music, even “noise” if you want, is too often discussed in relation to absence. Absence of harmony, of “form,” of the philosophy of separation underpinning musical tradition per se. I imagine that, in witnessing a performance by Pan Daijing, who discusses her music along the lines of embodiment and the “acting out” of sound, it becomes difficult to persist in this manner of speaking. With Lack, a document of that performance practice, she rattles the consciousness of the home listener from its critical distance back to where it belongs: the wanting, lurid presence of the body. “Practice of Hygiene” breaks words — “above, below,” “excuse me,” “why do I have to” — into moaning, groaning, and almost-human creaking, cradled in the bleed of a low, repeating piano note. A dissonant arpeggio dances for five minutes across “The Nerve Meter,” a synthesized pattern that seems to shake the receiver as if having passed through air from a nearby amplifier. At the climactic moment of “Lucid Morto,” the final track, delayed vocals combine with the unsure, three-note melody of a meaty trance lead. In different and captivating ways, this album takes advantage of the notion that sound is a physical encounter; its Lack is not of form or substance, but the one that lives in all of our hungering, trembling bodies. –Will Neibergall --- Milo who told you to think??!!?!?!?! [Ruby Yacht/Alpha Pup] [LISTEN · REVIEW] “Ghiath Matar is dead, roses are not armor,” goes the first rapped line, and if you’ve fallen into the trap of thinking that Milo’s strictly a “college rapper,” you might also be assuming that Ghiath Matar is the name of some ancient Eastern deity or the protag of a Russian fantasy novel. But it’s not. He was, I know now, a Syrian activist who gave flowers to soldiers, then was arrested, tortured and killed. The next line goes, “In my neighborhood, it was become a poet or a farmer.” Writing amazing, beautiful, weighty verse is part of Milo’s job, as is performing. But geeky flights of fancy aren’t gone, they’re just getting pointier. Also in the first song, he says, “Hold the self like J’Zargo in Winterhold,” referring, of course, to the fictional cat wizard and mage college in Elder Scrolls: Skyrim. Did I mention this is the album’s first verse? It goes deeper still, metaphors atop one another like racks. I haven’t cracked the seal on my vinyl copy yet, because it looks so snug sitting in its shrinkwrap beside Down With People’s self-titled album. One more unsolicited thought: if Nostrum Grocers ever drops, there are going to be a lot of professional poets out there burning their own chapbooks. –Samuel Diamond --- Avey Tare Eucalyptus [Domino] [LISTEN · REVIEW] Ever since Campfire Songs, we’ve known that Avey Tare is a sonic ecologist, attuned to the environments and relationalities that bloom and burble through his terraformed recordings. Lately, though, his work has dripped somewhere Down There, somewhere murky and suffocating, goopy and fecund. But, aerated and sun-drenched afresh in the Eucalyptus, Avey Tare sounds like he can breathe again. Awash but not overwhelmed, the atmospheres that populate Eucalyptus oxygenate the expansive melodies Portner has always nursed — from “Chocolate Girl” to “Amanita” — only this time, they can photosynthesize something delectable out of the coral, salt, soil, air that have always permeated, always tickled, always snickered. There’s a spaciousness in the hebetic sonic environments here, room to snuggle and inhale. Like the calyx that protects the budding eucalyptus flower, Eucalyptus chaperones us into a nourishing amnion. We can’t help but curl up and sink in. –Benjamin Eckman Bieser --- Various Artists Twin Peaks (Music from the Limited Event Series) / Twin Peaks (Limited Even Series Soundtrack) [Rhino] [WATCH · WATCH · WATCH] IRRATIONALLY ESSENTIAL. There’s no other way to put it. For Twin Peaks fans, this was the Summer of Frost/Lynch. We watched, listened, pondered, argued; we breathed it, ate it, shit it, and then sniffed the shit for more clues. By the time the 18-part series that first infected us back in May fully metastasized at the beginning of September, we were zombies. Our gray matter was hollowed into cheese by Dougie-Cooper’s Disease, characterized by the frenetic drive to bathe ourselves in anything connected with the story in any way — e.g., these two albums, featuring Angelo Badalamenti’s iconically eerie scores, plot-pregnant songs from each of the show’s Roadhouse bands, and a few of Lynch’s maniacal manipulations. Even now with the series in the spooky, Lynchian rear-view, the obsession lingers. The past dictates the future. There’s no going back. –Dan Smart [pagebreak] SADAF SHELL [Outside Insight] [LISTEN · REVIEW] An album gets called cinematic when the music elicits the feeling of a wide shot, of a soundtracked scene, of prestigious drama. SHELL is cinematic because it’s a movie. Vestigial, footgazing, inflammable, SHELL is a movie with no stars, a movie with no film, that unfolds in unfolding, getting ahead of itself. Even the pronoun is in the can before she means to. So you hear SADAF: just trust your eyes. Audition requires participation, and here, off the top of her head, participation means filmmaking. The unmaking of, in stereo. Although there are no bangers, there’s still the magic of SADAF’s multiplying VOICE, playing over scripts. (Little fires, drowning onscreen, disowned from the spark that lit the faucet. Its instructions crossing themselves out, the skipping noise and scraping strings roll like credits, hand in hand, like the tide, a substitute for reaching through to the other side.) “Though there is stillness, I can feel your heartbeat. Though I can’t see you, I can hear a sound.” Fear that you hear yourself, but you don’t listen. –Pat Beane --- Various Artists Sounds of Sisso [Nyege Nyege Tapes] [LISTEN] It’s fair to say that Uganda’s Nyege Nyege Tapes has left a rather sizeable imprint on the TMT hivemind this year (see: Otim Alpha, Mysterians, and first-quarter fave Riddlore http://j.mp/2g2GAt3

[ninarogers]

I have made a playlist for every month of my life since September 2013, save a couple misses. I have never been reliable at keeping a written journal, but I’m also a child of consumption. I don’t always define myself through my organic feelings: they’re filtered through everything I watch and listen to. I am not sad, I am Bridget Jones. I am not sturdy, I am Mary Tyler Moore. Everything is a reference, and I am just a meme aggregator. My playlists are the most accurate depictions of my emotional state I have on record.

Something to keep in mind is that these playlists are essentially my monthly easy listens. These can be taken as a summary of my monthly vibes. I don’t pick too obscure because I’m not in high school anymore, and I am a little lazy.

Data is beautiful. This isn’t, because I am not careful. But it’s an interesting way to look at my listening habits. Have a look…

Quick Takeaways

Groove R&B also missed the genre cut, to my surprise. A symptom of my latent anxiety: singing about getting bodied has the tendency to make me think about my physical body, a source of panic for me.

I Know Places really finished strong, but all three of its inclusions were on the same playlist (Nov 2014, when 1989 was released). Taylor’s appearance was interesting though–all my playlists are on Spotify, where her music isn’t. I imported the song just to listen to it three times an hour. Today, it’s not even my fave from the album (it’s I Wish You Would, of course).

Are You Strong Enough To Be My Man? Nobody is. Sheryl ruined me

Rilo Kiley finishing first is no surprise. They’re the only band whose lyrics I’d get tattooed on my body (but I don’t, because I’d have to tell people I have a song lyric tattoo). I am, however, surprised that Whitney just missed the cut when I have a shrine to her in my bedroom. Fake news?

My methods of dividing into genre and subgenre are not empirical, but they do reveal how I view certain sounds. I’ve defined a couple of the more esoteric subgenres below:

- Indie Sweet - Indie genre, with a sound that feels sweet to me. They aren’t overly produced or lyrically confrontational. They sound Nice. Too much, though, and I feel sick. Ex. Belle & Sebastian, Regina Spektor, Waxahatchee

- Shine as a subgenre - Anything with a sheen. It’s a little electro, maybe a little mad. It’s modern. Ex. The Cure, Something in the Water by Carrie Underwood.

- Indie Nah - Honestly, shit I don’t care for anymore. I liked the song in the moment, but it fell back into sounding like a murmur-y piece of garbage melody without any bite to it. Ex. all these band names that sound made up:

- Octave Pop - She can sing! Ex. Adele, Whitney

- Feelings Rock v Whine Rock - Distinction depends on if I empathize. I empathize with Sheryl Crow, not Rivers Cuomo.

- Weird Pop - Just as poppy as Poppy Pop, but they don’t play it on the radio. But they should, really. See below

- Vintage as a subgenre - If a song didn’t easily fit into an already defined category and was older than ten years, I put it into vintage. Nirvana, Sugar Ray, and Third Eye Blind should not be in the same category theoretically, but I am just a girl.

WHO WON????

Octave Pop

EMO: POPPY V. TRUE The fun ones go more with my vibes.

BEYONCE 4 is still my favorite. @ me.

WEIRD POP To be frank, I’m surprised Fiona even appears here. She’s usually too weird to pair with anything else.

VIBES V. VINTAGE An argument could be made for The Beach Boys as vintage since Brian Wilson singles landed there but ultimately don’t their vibes win you over?

AM I STILL MAD AT DRAKE? You have no idea.

HOW BOW WAH

These playlists, as I said before, are not entirely representative of my listening output for the last three and a half years. There are songs you repeat for days at a time, albums you become obsessed with, and little things you don’t feel like pulling up on Spotify. Here are some things I listened to particularly a lot, enough to make their own, unmonthed lists:

1. Moana soundtrack (looped for month of November) 2. All I Want For Christmas Is You (during period of inertion, December) 3. That Bleachers album (only good altogether, but really not good at all) 4. The xx’s Aaliyah cover (truly remarkable, it lasted me many snowy walks home in January 2014) 5. The Cure’s entire output all at once, all the time 6. Kill My Boyfriend by Natalia Kills (very good when you reach the Anger stage of a breakup, August 2014) 7. A Fleetwood Mac/Rilo Kiley entire discogs alternating songs playlist (the only thing during the drive to Los Angeles, Dec 14/Jan 15) 8. Various emo/pop punk band radio stations (an anytime affair, continuously) 9. Michael Jackson (bought a monster singles compilation that stays in my car’s CD player) 10. West Side Story

MISSING MONTHS

I missed a total of seven months in creating these lists: August 2014, December 2014, and July-November 2016.

August 2014

My college apartment’s lease had finally run out. I had six weeks until the next one started. My Cute Transience had no time to think about Ben Gibbard. I stayed in four different rooms in three different apartments for six weeks. All the mattresses smelled like potatoes. One room was technically a front parlor. Evanston IL never felt so suffocating.

December 2014

I quit my job. I left Evanston for home in Tennessee. I had the vaguest plan to move to California, but I had no job or apartment or any ties anywhere. I drove home with all my earthly possessions stuffed in my Honda Civic. After three weeks of my mom asking why I didn’t have a boyfriend and my dad slipping me the Nashville classifieds I shoved all my garbage back into my Civic and drove 2000 miles to Los Angeles. It took eight days, four stops, and two days of being stranded in small town Texas to get there. I almost died (existentially, and literally). It took me two years to process this as something that happened to me in my life.

July-November 2016

My anxiety had been building steadily for the last three years. My physical health was declining, ever so slightly, enough for me to feel paranoid for even thinking about it. Have you ever been scared of your body? Has your body ever betrayed you? Have doctors? I asked so many what was wrong with me and they told me to drink more water, see a therapist, stop worrying about it. (Later, I did do all those things, and they did help. But not with my state of mind.) It’s so strange to feel yourself turning inwards but to have no desire to stop it. I was afraid of thinking about what was wrong, so I thought about nothing. I was afraid of distracting myself to the point of forgetting, lest my body decline even more, so I did nothing. I felt nothing for six months. I don’t recommend it.

CONCLUSIONS

- The graph doesn’t show how much country is making a general resurgence in my life–but, of course, only the Shine variety. Get Jason Aldean out of here

- Emo music has dropped off my monthly playlists, but my All Time Low radio station is always within the last five lists I’ve played. When I’m in the mood, I can’t just have one–I need it all.

- Indie dropped off in December of 2016–softboys were hard to take right after emerging from a cocoon of depression. I replaced it with a song off the Hamilton mixtape (Satisfied–honestly not my fave!) I did listen to Wait For It (original recording) for days at a time, on loop. I don’t recommend, on the whole.

THE PLAYLISTS Some are better than others.

September 2013 October 2013 November 2013 December 2013 January 2014 February 2014 March 2014 April 2014 May 2014 June 2014 July 2014 September 2014 October 2014 November 2014 January 2015 February 2015 March 2015 April 2015 May 2015 June 2015 July 2015 August 2015 September 2015 October 2015 November 2015 December 2015 January 2016 February 2016 March 2016 April 2016 May 2016 June 2016 December 2016 January 2017

NB: Spotify removes all instances of my Chance and Taylor Swift inclusions. Check the raw data to be sure.

And here’s my raw data. I input it all by hand, so. It’s probably missing some.