Tag: 2023

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 3/26/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well.

It’s finally spring. Sprouts are crawling out of the crumbly earth, the fog is lifting, and I have a depressingly gray color scheme to show for it. My overexcitement for getting Peter Gabriel tickets (HUUUAUAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHGHGH BIG THANK YOU TO MY PARENTS) trumps any hope of a springtime aesthetic for this post.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 3/26/23

“Darkness” – Peter Gabriel

Picture this. It’s early in the morning. You have a 9 AM class you have to get ready for. You’ve decided to listen to Up, so you put it on while you start putting your makeup on. Track 1. You turn the volume up, because nothing much seems to be happening. 0:29 hits. All hell breaks loose.

And yet, even though I do my SPD jumpscare dance every time it rolls around, I find myself listening to this song like an adrenaline junkie. Peter Gabriel knows how to open an album—lulling you into near-silence, then hitting you with a concentrated, almost industrial opening that probably keeps Trent Reznor up at night wondering how he could top it. More than that, “Darkness” is another song I’ve added to my internal list of reasons why Gabriel is such a uniquely talented musician—he makes creating a musical atmosphere that mirrors the lyrical story look so easy. As he speaks of being consumed by fear, the instrumentals crash in, enveloping all else as his voice grinds to a gravel-edged plea for solace. It was enough to give me a heart attack, and, if I’m going by the YouTube comments, enough to give people nightmares. Gabriel whispers of fearing “swimming in the sea/dark shapes moving under me/every fear I swallow makes me small,” and in the edges of the near-silence, a strained moan sounds, like a distant whale call or the grinding of a boat. The imagery is startling in its clarity—if I had the patience, I’d jump at the chance to make some kind of stop-motion or claymation music video. Unlike other artists, Gabriel’s instrumentally darker, more abrasive side doesn’t surprise me—after the first listen, all I could think of is that it was the next natural evolution of “Intruder.”

But over two decades after the release of “Intruder,” (which, unlike this song, was enough to keep me up at night—on the first night alone in my dorm, no less…good times) Gabriel has a deeply nuanced understanding of fear. Even as these fears swallow him like the whale in Pinnochio, he finds a way through the tangled woods, knowing that fear will pass—”I have my fears/but they do not have me.” Well. I needed to hear that. Sometimes it’s hard to hear these things when we’re swallowed up so easily—which I can relate to a little too well, with my experience with general fear over various things, as well as the truckload of anxiety that came along with making the move to college—but as the song ebbs and flows from monstrous crescendos to something more bare and gentle, so too do our fears. It’s all too easy for me to think that there’s no light at the end of the tunnel when I get in a place like this, but fear, like everything else, is impermanent. And when we look back, like Gabriel, we can “cry until [we] laugh.” Maybe that’s why I find myself seeking out this song so much—I love when I can give myself a musical mantra. It has no control over me.

“Nobody’s Fool” – Shakey Graves

I’ve been meaning to listen to Shakey Graves and the Horse he Rode In On solely because of how much I love that name, but I’ve got more motivation (not that I didn’t have any—the eternal album bucket list waits for no man) after hearing this one in my brother’s girlfriend’s car. Shakey Graves can make anything seem natural, be it the more experimental wanderings of Can’t Wake Up to the classic folkiness of this song. And like a classic folk song, there’s something inherently haunting about it—even without the lines about drinking and deep-seated regret, there’s an off-kilter waver to “Nobody’s Fool,” a shadow creature that’s emerged from under the bed, hanging over Alejandro Rose-Garcia’s shoulder. If that’s the case, he’s probably given said creature a banjo or something since this song, but here, it lingers. “Nobody’s Fool” is a song so atmospheric that it feels like there’s a tangible coat of dust over it—again, the lingering eeriness about it, but something of a good kind of dust, given this song’s bizarre pull.

“Love Goes Home to Paris in the Spring” – The Magnetic Fields

I love the irony in the fact that I just got an ad claiming that “99.9% of women will chase you when you do this” above the search results for this song. At that point, you can’t even say that YouTube has bad gaydar—it just doesn’t have any gaydar whatsoever…

There’s a solid chance that I’ll be blabbing about The Magnetic Fields for the next week or two afterwards, but I had the incredible privilege of seeing them last Friday night! At a small venue, too—no annoying drunk people, no jostling for a good view, just cellos, sad gay breakup songs, and Stephin Merritt’s three mugs of tea. And other than the pure genius of playing “The Book of Love,” getting everbody sobbing (it’s me I’m everybody), and then launching into “The Biggest Tits in History” (IT’S ABOUT THE BIRD IT’S ABOUT THE BIRD I SWEAR GUYS GUYS) directly after, this show made me remember how many pockets of Merritt and co.’s genius that I hadn’t heard of, or just forgotten about. Take this song; with the amount of wry, folky breakup songs that they’ve produced, you’d expect for there to be an eventual formula. Bitterness is a constant, but it’s delivered in such a clever, creative way that I can’t help but smile and nod along as if Stephin Merritt is singing about rainbows and kittens. He’ll never outright say “you broke my heart” or “I can’t forgive you for what you did”—like clay, he pulls that core emotion into “don’t you know love/goes home to Paris in the spring?” That’s the kind of wry, tongue-in-cheek magic that draws me to The Magnetic Fields again and again—Stephin Merritt never has any boring ways of interpreting love and heartbreak. Still, it’s been a few decades since they’ve started the band—I just hope he isn’t in for any “I Don’t Believe in the Sun” relationships anymore. Dude deserves a break.

“Playing for Time” – Peter Gabriel

Before I get into the song itself…another reason why I admire Peter Gabriel so much—skip to 1:00 in the video and you’ll see him performing an early, unfinished version of “Playing for Time” without any lyrics. The prospect of performing…well, anything is already nerve-wracking enough for me, but playing something that you haven’t even finished live? That’s a feat, but I guess you can just do that when you’re Peter Gabriel. I can barely even make myself share in-progress bits of writing with friends.

Onto the song itself…I’m not gonna survive this album. I barely survived this song. Gabriel’s ability to dig into our most base emotions has never faded away, and “Playing For Time” is no exception. It’s a meditation on aging, on time, and on the memories we share between loved ones. He envisions a planet comprised of the memories made by a couple— “any moment that we bring to life/will never fade away.” It’s a song that came tragically late for Arrival, but maybe that’s the way it should’ve been—the movie, and the message that mirrors this song, already made me ugly cry three separate times. I could barely hold it together after listening to this twice. But along with this song and this movie, it’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot; I’ve always treasured moments with my loved ones, but moving to college and being alone and independent for the first time has made me realize how precious it really is. But it’s also made me realize that these memories really do never quite go away, as long as we keep them close. Don’t let these things pass you by.

Okay, I need to stop. I think one sitting is the only time frame that I can listen to this song without curling up in a ball.

I need a minute…

“Pencils in the Wind” – Flight of the Conchords

“And people are like paper dolls/paper dolls and people, they are a similar shape…”

“Hey Jude” who? Paul McCartney wishes he could’ve come up with a line as raw as that. The voices of a generation, truly peerless.

Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

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Sunday Songs: 3/15/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well. 💗

I’m not even touching the fact that we’re somehow already halfway through March, but the passage of time is fine, right? Right? Hopefully the shades of red in this week’s songs are blinding enough to distract you from the fact. Would’ve been a more fitting color scheme for Valentine’s Day, but I’m a non-conformist if nothing else.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 3/15/23

“To Love” – Suki Waterhouse

It’s been a few years since I found out about Suki Waterhouse via Apple Music and “Johanna,” but now, I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s only ever made…one or two different songs. Is she good at it? I’d say so. A good 90% of the time, at least. Strangely, her songs work better solitarily for me; after listening to her debut album I Can’t Let Go in full, I had a decent listening experience, but, again—same song 10 times. It got a little tiring, but I got some nuggets of goodness out of it.

So after I found out that “To Love” had been released, I went in expecting more of the same. Lyrically, it’s still the same song, but it’s gotten me so excited that the instrumentation has started to change! Waterhouse has embraced sweeping maximalism in this song, with starry guitar tones reminiscent of the 70’s, an orchestral hum in the chorus, and no shortage of grandeur as she sings of losing herself in a once-in-a-lifetime love. And with all of her songs, her airy, sparkling voice provides an anchor for the journey that the instrumentation goes on—light on one verse, then diving straight into an ocean of orchestral wonder. It easily separates itself from most of her other catalogue, and although I can easily see her riding the same wave for the rest of her musical career, part of me is still holding onto hope that she’ll embrace this feel.

“Heather” – Sorry

After I heard about Sorry and “Starstruck” from my brother a few weeks back, I went on a brief frenzy and downloaded a handful of songs from their 2020 album 925 and then left it alone. I still need to listen to said album, but when the dust settled, I was left with “Heather” as one of the standouts. In contrast to the wry, post-punk sensibilities of “Starstruck,” “Heather” gently sways, a listless stare out the window as a spring drizzle trails down the glass. Threads of chaotic instrumentation linger in the background, but the song remains a gently rocking hammock, keeping momentum but never snapping loose. Asha Lorenz’s voice comes off continuously tired, slipping at the edges, but it’s the perfect fit for this song, singing of “The only one you’d choose/to spend your rainy days with.” Somehow, this song is able to make the line “we’ll lie like dead birds in the heather” sound bizarrely romantic, just as innocuous as the acoustic guitar strums. Even with Lorenz’s voice croaks in the background of the chorus, there’s still a gentle whimsy to it, an easy head-nodder to stare up at a sunset to.

“Black Math” – The White Stripes

The cycle never ends. I see any interview with Jack White. I want to hate his guts. And then this comes on shuffle, and I really can’t…WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO ME? CAN YOU NOT BE SO OBNOXIOUS SO I CAN PROPERLY APPRECIATE HOW FANTASTIC OF A GUITARIST YOU ARE, DUDE? He’s the kind of guy with the misplaced bravado to say that, on the eve of him filming the documentary “It Might Get Loud” alongside The Edge and Jimmy Page, they would probably “get in a fistfight.” Most of the time, that kind of bravado doesn’t have the talent to back it up. I’m not justifying…him™️ at all, but for once, he has the sheer musical talent to back it up. There’s a reason that he was put alongside the likes of The Edge and Page.

Just like the way it unexpectedly appeared on my shuffle not too long ago, “Black Math” immediately kicks in with a sudden and propulsive burst of guitar. White’s fuzzed-out notes, all at once tightly controlled and wild and reckless, never steer off course—every intricate riff tossed in feels intentional, as though they were lined up like chess pieces, stationary but ready to attack at any second. Though the momentum skids into a sludgier, crunchy, slow-tempo area in places, there’s never a sense that either White or White (that’s not confusing at all, and again, Jack White specifically did not have to make it even more so…really, dude, why) have let the reins go free, still holding a tight grip on a timelessly tight song.

“Burgundy” – Warpaint

Black? Burgundy? We’ve got an interesting musical color scheme here…surely I won’t be piling both of these songs on my “songs with color names in the title” playlist that I made because I got bored…nuh uh…

My tendency to give mediocre to bad things “just one more chance” hasn’t led me anywhere 95% of the time. It applies to way too many parts of my life. But sometimes, there’s that 5% off-chance that an artist will prove me wrong, dredging up an occasional offering of brightness, and that’s what I’ve found here. Hopefully, this won’t be the reason that I keep doing it with music, but…

Most of what I know of Warpaint boils down to two songs. I’ve loved their cover of David Bowie’s “Ashes to Ashes,” which my dad turned me onto shortly after Bowie passed away, and when we still had the radio in my mom’s car, “New Song” was on heavy rotation on the indie station. I tried to listen to their 2014 self-titled album a few years back, and though the details of the music itself are fuzzy, the disappointment I felt was distinct—nothing about it really did anything for me like I thought at least one song would. And yet, when I saw this appear on an Apple Music playlist the other day, I had a morbid curiosity to see if there was anything of worth in this song—lo and behold, there was. Bare and quiet, it ambles along gently, with Stella Mozgawa’s subtly syncopated drums. Emily Kokal seems content to let her vocals fade into the soft, unseen corners of the song’s musical landscape, making for an atmosphere that seems to drift like fog around your hear, constantly evaporating and reforming itself, ever-changing. It may not be enough to give the band as a whole another chance, but “Burgundy” is a song that I’ll surely keep in my back pocket.

“Of Course” – Jane’s Addiction

I suppose we’re ending on a weighty one, aren’t we?

Jane’s Addiction is one of those bands that’s been ever-present in my life, but they only land with me every few songs. It took me a long time for this one to grow on me, as most of their songs do, but upon listening to it again, I was first struck by just how fantastic this violin is—I never knew his name before this song, but can we appreciate Charlie Bisharat for a moment? Against the rolling-wave, cyclical feel of the song (more on that later), his playing is fiercely frenetic, all at once jagged and rich with vibrancy, brighter than the red on the borders of the album cover for Ritual De Lo Habitual. Even when the other instruments take center stage, Bisharat’s playing shines through, translating itself into the lyrics themselves—I love how sharp and stinging the notes become after the line “When I was a boy/My big brother held onto my hand/And he made me slap my own face”? I’m a sucker for instances where the instruments become just as much a part of the lyrics as the lyrics themselves.

Lyrically, on a surface-level listen, it would be easy to take this song cynically—there’s images aplenty of human animals eating and clawing at each other to reach the top, the constant motif of getting slapped in the face. But the slap in the face is key here—all of that dog-eat-dog cynicism is flipped to the chorus of “a sensation not unlike slapping yourself in the face.” All you’re doing with that violently competitive mentality is screwing yourself over. It’s easy to miss, but it’s an important distinction to make—I could go on for ages about how capitalism has infected so many of us, especially in the U.S., with this mentality, but beyond the song, I like to take it as proof that working against each other is what will drive us into the ground. It’s become a little too relevant in the past few years, but even though “Of Course” has a somewhat universal message, it’s one that resonates a lot with these troubled times. Biting at each other’s heels is never getting us anywhere, and it never has. Jane’s Addiction may be generally hit-or-miss for me, but they struck gold when they put this out into the world.

Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 3/12/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well.

It’s finally starting to feel like spring again. The birds are singing, the grass looks much less dead, the sky is bright and decidedly un-cloudy, and Those Dudes™️ are still wearing nothing but tank tops, shorts, and flip flops in 30 degree weather. Which, I should clarify, is an outfit choice that has not changed from a few weeks ago, when it was cold enough for ice to form in my water bottle. I wish I was kidding.

But we are filled with springtime warmth and joy this week! The sun is shining! For once! Joyous whimsy prevails!

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 3/12/23

“A Little Bit of Soap” – De La Soul

Like a many other music nerds out there, I celebrated last Friday (March 3) by listening to De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, finally back on streaming, along with their other first 5 albums, after decades of legal troubles. I’d been hearing tracks like “The Magic Number” and “Me Myself and I” from early childhood, and I got worried that I’d hyped myself up far too much, but this album is as groundbreaking is as everybody says it is. Despite the years of misinterpretation and the record label’s hippie branding of the group (and “Me Myself and I” becoming their equivalent of “Creep,” so much so that all of their non-televised performances of it are always introduced by them telling the crowd to chant “we hate this song!”), it’s been taken all the way to the Library of Congress as a pivotal piece of music history. I’m not up to date on my hip-hop history, but even without that context, it’s easy to see what a sea change this was for a genre—it’s the work of three friends, barely out of high school, with the goal of having fun and playing with samples. And it’s a masterpiece.

This spirit is something that the delightfully goofy “A Little Bit of Soap” embodies. It’s not even a minute long (part of which is still taken up by a piece of the game show skit that continues through the album), it samples an obscure 60’s pop song of the same name, and the lyrics are just about B.O. And it’s GREAT. It proves that those middle school boys who barely showered and used AXE body spray to cover up the shame have existed since time immemorial. There’s something to be said about shorter songs like this, ones that clearly exist just for fun—creativity, for me at least, is primarily to amuse myself before it turns into something else. And that seems like exactly what Posdnuos, Trugoy, and Maseo were trying to do—having fun with each other, and making something innovative in the process. Happiness and genuine joy and fun should never be dismissed as low art just because it’s not “deep”—that mentality is the enemy of creativity.

And it’s been a month now since we’ve lost Trugoy the Dove. One the one hand, it’s deeply tragic that he never got to live to see his music return to the world, but I’m comforted by the fact that he at least could rest easier knowing that the years of legal battles had come to an end, and that De La Soul would finally be able to reach the wider audience that it always deserved. You will be missed. 💗

“Mutha’uckas” – Flight of the Conchords

When Bret said “Then ************ Granny Smith ******** ******** ** an avocado ********mango ********” ? Man, I felt that. I really did. “He’s gonna wake up in a smoothie”? Never before has such an assertive display of power and dominance been made in music history. Bret McKenzie is the ultimate alpha male. Sigma, even. Take notes. Fear him. It’s gonna get vicious and malicious. (He wants his Red Delicious.)

“Captain Chicken” (feat. Del the Funky Homo Sapien) – Gorillaz

I already talked about this song briefly in my review for Cracker Island, but I can’t praise this song enough. Never in my very brief years of Earth would I predict that I would have a song with looped chicken clucking sound effects on repeat, but life is full of surprises, and Gorillaz is here to deliver. I thought the days of Gorillaz collaborating with Del the Funky Homo Sapien (as Del the Ghost Rapper) were gone before my time, and whether or not this is a nostalgia grab, the 20+ years of waiting has paid off. Just like every track they made together on Gorillaz, Albarn and Del have created another pop masterpiece, just under two minutes but packing a punch than most of Cracker Island itself. Some songs are too long or too short for their own good, but like “A Little Bit of Soap,” “Captain Chicken” is the perfect, short-and-sweet time capsule of two exceptional musicians sounding like they’re both having the time of their lives. This is the fun, pure Gorillaz spark that most of Cracker Island was missing for me, but this song is out now, and I don’t think it’s a reach to say that we’re all grateful for this little gem.

“Girl” – The Beatles

I’ve got a confession—I love all of the Beatles in their own way to some extent, but I’d put John Lennon as my least favorite, as much as I love his voice. Probably heresy, and who wouldn’t love his message of peace, but after watching Get Back recently, he just seemed kind of insufferable? There’s no denying his musical genius, but every joke he made there just felt more like trying to be funny than actually being funny. And I haven’t even gotten to the wife-beating aspect. Yech. Don’t go deep-diving into 50% of singers from the 50’s to the 90’s, kids. Disappointment awaits.

None of that is excused, but it’s songs like this that make me go back on the obvious musical prowess of people like John Lennon. I think Rubber Soul is the only Beatles album left on my list that I want to listen to, and it’s songs like “Girl” that make me want to listen to it. In this day and age, it’s hard to see how groundbreaking it was, but at the time, it was rare for a pop band as big as they were in 1966 to make a love song quite like this. It’s not the (undoubtedly catchy) sunshine and rainbows of their first few albums; it’s more than a little folksy, and it starts to dig into a melancholia that the genre had barely touched with a ten-foot pole at that point. Every detail makes it such a strange, wonderful pop song—John Lennon’s hissing inhalations in the chorus, the eerily beautiful harmonies of Lennon, McCartney and Harrison (which I can never praise enough), and the guitar work, which was apparently played with the capo extra high on the neck to make the sound resemble a bouzouki. From what I’ve heard, Rubber Soul served as the Beatles’ gateway into their truly innovative work, delving into pure psychedelia on Revolver, which came out later that same year, and to this day, “Girl” and many of the album’s other track are a time capsule to the Beatles just before they leapt off the precipice and into the musical unknown.

“Life’s a Happy Song” (from The Muppets) – Amy Adams, Jason Segel, & Walter

Nothing like the realization that Amy Adams was in this movie hitting you like a train directly on the heels of ugly crying to Arrival, amirite? That’s some whiplash. Needless to say, that’s some impressive range.

And if you take one thing away from both this song and this post, it’s that Bret McKenzie did NOT have to go that hard with the Muppets soundtrack. I’m just picturing the guy just coming into the studio with a notepad, eyes glowing red and levitating, and laying the lyrics to this and/or “Man Or Muppet” down on the table, and everybody just refusing to question it. I can still remember having this as the first song on a scratchy CD, and only ending up hearing it and “Eight Days a Week” because it conked out on me after track 2. I have many fond memories of sunny afternoons listening to this song while organizing the Calico Critters house that I got for my birthday that year. The voice of a generation. What can I say? Life’s a fillet of fish.

Since this post consists of all songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Books

Feminist YA Books for Women’s History Month (2023 Edition)

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Wednesday, bibliophiles, and more importantly, Happy International Women’s Day!

Aside from that, the month of March in the U.S. is Women’s History Month! These past few years have been tumultuous for women here in the U.S. and elsewhere, with the attacks on bodily autonomy being some of the most violent in recent years. But despite it all, we cannot lose hope—by lifting each other up, we can foster an environment that respects women as equals. And as I’ve always said, literature is resistance: it isn’t just real-life heroes that can inspire us to incite change—fictional heroines can have just the same effect. So for the occasion, I’ve gathered even more feminist YA book recommendations.

For my previous lists, click below:

Enjoy these book recommendations!

FEMINIST YA BOOKS FOR WOMEN’S HISTORY MONTH (2023 EDITION)

Most Likely, Sarah Watson

GENRES: Contemporary, realistic fiction, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

An intersectional story that weaves together the lives of four girls in their senior year of high school—one of which will become the president of the United States.

Extasia, Claire Legrand

GENRES: Dystopia, paranormal, horror, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Claire Legrand has made another gem of a feminist novel—this time, a chilling tale of unseen beasts and hidden power.

One for All, Lillie Lainoff

GENRES: Historical fiction, retellings

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75, rounded up to ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

A genderbent retelling of The Three Musketeers with a disabled, swordfighting protagonist—actually by a disabled author too!

Hollow Fires, Samira Ahmed

GENRES: Contemporary, realistic fiction, mystery

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Samira Ahmed always ends up showing up on these lists, and for good reason—she’s never missed with any of her raw and fiercely feminist novels, and Hollow Fires is no exception.

The Most Dazzling Girl in Berlin, Kip Wilson

GENRES: Historical fiction, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.25

A beautiful novel in verse about two queer girls who perform in a cabaret in 1930’s Berlin.

The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School, Sonora Reyes

GENRES: Contemporary, realistic fiction, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

A fantastic novel about a lesbian Mexican-American girl navigating a Catholic high school—and her budding feelings for a classmate.

Last Night at the Telegraph Club – Malinda Lo

GENRES: Historical fiction, LGBTQ+, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

A raw but tender love story of two queer, Chinese-American girls in 1950’s Chinatown.

Cool. Awkward. Black. – Edited by Karen Strong (anthology)

GENRES: Fiction, fantasy, science fiction, paranormal, LGBTQ+, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

An anthology of Black stories of all genres, but with a particular focus on geek culture!

The Reckless Kind, Carly Heath

GENRES: Historical fiction, LGBTQ+, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I’ve described this one enough times, but I promise that I will NEVER shut up about how meaningful this book is. Just go read it. TRUST ME.

Follow Your Arrow, Jessica Verdi

GENRES: Contemporary, realistic fiction, LGBTQ+, romance

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Though this book was far from perfect, I think it’s still worth it to put on this list; the writing and romance weren’t great, but Follow Your Arrow has plenty of timely discussions around bisexuality and how we treat queer women.

HONORABLE MENTION:

The Trouble With White Women: A Counterhistory of Feminism, Kyla Schuller

GENRES: nonfiction

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Although this list was intended to be just for YA and fiction, I’d be remiss if I made a post about feminism and didn’t include this book. The Trouble With White Women presents a view on feminism that is necessary for moving past simply white feminism, and presents the feminist movement through those on the margins, such as Frances Harper, Pauli Murray, and Alexandria Ocasio Cortez. It’s seriously one of the best nonfiction books I’ve read in ages—on any subject matter.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! What did you think of the books on this list? What are your favorite feminist YA books? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

Most of the Warpaint I’ve heard hasn’t done much for me (aside from their great cover of “Ashes to Ashes”), but I love the quietness of this one!

That’s it for this list of recommendations! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 3/5/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

I’m not sure if putting Fiona Apple and Radiohead one after the other is the best way to start off the month (and I know I’ll never beat the manipulator music allegations), but that’s how it’s gonna be, so I’m sorry. You’re listening to (reading from?) the same person who broke into tears after seeing The Smile live, so keep that in mind for all future posts.

thomb yorkie ⁉️

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 3/5/23

“Criminal” – Fiona Apple

I wish I could say that I didn’t steal this from both my brother (DUDE SORRY I HAD NO IDEA YOU WERE PUTTING IT IN YOUR POST THIS WEEK TOO HAHAHA) and the second-to-last episode of Only Murders in the Building, but I HAVE HEARD IT BEFORE!! AND LIKED IT VERY MUCH!! It’s one of those songs that I have a very vividly mundane memory of; it was back when we used the radio in my mom’s car, and we were on the 90’s station. The grass looked unusually green in my memory, like some kind of saturated filter. It must’ve been summertime, but I guess my brain decided that the memory was worth turning up the brightness on. My mom made a remark about remembering the exact length of this song: 5 minutes and 42 seconds.

And 5 minutes and 42 seconds of pure artistry is what “Criminal” certainly is. There’s times that I feel like a fraud for liking a band’s most popular song, but sometimes, songs are that way for a reason—it’s a good song. Apple’s voice is immediately hypnotic, rich and sultry like silken fabric and smoky perfume. All at once sleek and eerie, it never loses a note of momentum in its nearly 6-minute duration, crawling along with the juxtaposition of an airy, resonant flute section and pounding piano notes. But behind Apple’s vocals is the creeping sense that something is inches away from going wrong (the…incredible discomfort of the video only adds to that, especially knowing how young she was when it was filmed…ick), but the music toes that line without falling over the edge. I’m almost afraid to get into the rest of Fiona Apple’s discography, in no small part due to the fact that she once held the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest album title (respect for that, though, but…whew), but this song will always remaining hauntingly alluring.

“Climbing Up the Walls” – Radiohead

Yeah…right after “Criminal,” the vibes are…not the best, I’ll admit. Probably too late to break out the candles and the nice tablecloth to set the mood. This song knocked over the candle and set the tablecloth on fire. Chaos reigns.

There’s a reason why OK Computer has been one of my favorite albums for years now—for the first time, it was explosive proof of the range that Radiohead was capable of, and the results were often chilling. Songs like “Karma Police” and “Paranoid Android” will always be plenty sinister, but this is just spine-chilling. And yet, once it came on shuffle recently, I couldn’t stop listening. The way this whole album and this song were crafted will never cease to astound me: the distortion at the edges of Thom Yorke’s already creaking voice, the croaking, industrial echoes that form the fabric of the background, the way that the guitars have been destroyed to the point of no return, the screeching from both the electronics and Thom Yorke himself at the very end. It’s the musical version of an abandoned, crumbling shack in the middle of nowhere, complete with rusty nails falling off their hinges, a constant scratching at the walls, and wooden planks hanging on by a single fiber. I know that’s a terrible sell for the song, but if there’s one thing that Radiohead are the masters of, it’s building atmosphere. It may not be a nice, comfy atmosphere, but it sure is an atmosphere.

“You Really Got Me” – The Kinks

See? I told you that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. In the middle? Semantics. But either way, who’s more worthy of carrying that light than Ray Davies and company?

I’m frequently ashamed of how often I forget that this song exists, but then I feel silly for feeling ashamed, because nothing matches the feeling of remembering a great song after not listening to it for ages. Especially when it’s a song as delightfully sixties as this. Apart from the stylishly scratches edges of Davies’ voice, “jangly” is the most fitting word I can think of to describe it, and I love me some good jangly guitars—sometimes I find myself missing how guitars sounded in the sixties and seventies, but it’s not like you can’t replicate it. But knowing that this was some of the first of its kind to sound like this, it’s easy to see how much the Kinks have permeated into all kinds of branches of rock—the earliest forms of punk and even metal have taken some notes from them. You can’t deny the power of a 2-minute sixties song.

“While My Guitar Gently Weeps” – The Beatles

Back to the British Invasion, and back to one of my favorite albums of all time. See? I can be coherent!

Again, sometimes it’s good to let songs sit. This one happens to be my favorite Beatles song, off of my favorite Beatles album, and one of my favorite songs in general. I know it’s been said to death, but there’s something special about the hidden, secret-weapon power of George Harrison. Most every Beatles song is filled with magic, but there’s something instantly transporting about this song; the instrumentation, up until the solo famously contributed by Eric Clapton, it lets Harrison’s air-light voice soar to unseen heights, wailing—weeping, I should say—along with Clapton’s…weeping guitar. Gently weeping. Sorry. Every time I listen, it’s like being gently scooped up by a giant, benevolent hand, lifted in the air, and left to watch the clouds pass by for 5 minutes. The collective efforts of the Beatles can never be understated: despite their (many) quarrels, their genius put together contributed to a musical movement that really did change the landscape of rock music and beyond forever. And yet, sometimes, it’s more personal songs like these that leave an imprint—I know George Harrison certainly did. And a happy belated birthday to you, too.

“Angelcover” – The New Pornographers

How else can we end this post but with a New Pornographers song with the most New Pornographers-y song title since…every single track off of In the Morse Code of Brake Lights? Those sure were some Titles…

There’s something about The New Pornographers that I will never quite be able to put my finger on. Apart from their consistently and delightfully random-word-generator-sounding titles, their lyrics have always felt oddly off-kilter to me. Something about the particular word choices they use, hidden in exceedingly tight and steady indie rock beats. And I love them for that. It’s something that’s never really gone away through any of their discography—again, I don’t claim to be the ultimate New Pornographers historian (that would be a very…suspect title to have), but it seems like they’ve stayed true to that part of themselves, which, in a world where even some indie musicians are often forced to conform to a more palatable sound, is something I will never stop admiring.

As for “Angelcover” itself, it’s a song that took longer to grow on me than the previous single, “Really Really Light,” but is nonetheless a compelling addition to the forthcoming Continue as a Guest. A.C. Newman’s echoing vocals in the verses contrast with Neko Cases’s soaring notes as perfectly as they always have, and every instrument meshes in perfect harmony, from the foundational pianos to the ringing flute notes that accent the song throughout. And as always, the lyrics remain indescribably off-kilter, but in the best way possible: “angels on the bed/with their unplugged electric.” Does it get more indie than that?

Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Music

Cracker Island – Gorillaz album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles!

Ever since the announcement was made, Cracker Island became one of my most anticipated albums of 2023. I’ve been a fan of Gorillaz for years; their cast of cartoon characters and consistently innovative and downright fun music has made them a mainstay favorite for me. I even had the immense privilege of seeing them last September, and I can say with certainty that it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to.

After 2020’s Song Machine: Season 1, I tried to be hesitant about Cracker Island, but I was excited that they didn’t lean on collaborators quite as much as the former. However, Cracker Island turned out to be a mixed bag for me, but still had a few gems—and no shortage of instantly catchy tracks.

Enjoy this album review!

CRACKER ISLAND – GORILLAZ (album review)

Release date: February 24, 2023 (Parlophone/Warner records)

TRACK 1: “Cracker Island (feat. Thundercat)” – 7/10

the day has finally come…….2D is 3D…..

This is exactly what I meant about the instantly catchy tracks—in the grand scheme of things, it’s not the most inventive or emotional piece of music that Gorillaz has ever created, but man, it’s fun. I have a moral obligation for headbanging whenever it comes on—with the funky bassline, Thundercat’s backing vocals, and Damon Albarn’s hypnotic voice, this is as solid of an album opener as any, a song that I’ll permanently associate with summer.

TRACK 2: “Oil (feat. Stevie Nicks)” – 7/10

“…I need to sit down.” – one of my best friends, upon finding out that Stevie Nicks was on this album

“Oil” is a decent track, but there’s something strange about it that comes up on the rest of the album; normally, Gorillaz collaboration tracks give at least a moderate amount of attention, be it audible backing vocals or separate verses, to their collaborators. But on this track, and several others on the album, I’m struggling to hear Stevie Nicks clearly. It’s a little better on YouTube than Apple Music, weirdly enough, but it still feels like Stevie Nicks isn’t in the spotlight in the same way as Thundercat, Tame Impala, and others on the album are. Huh. Still an alright song—again, nothing life-changing.

TRACK 3: “The Tired Influencer” – 7/10

It seems like this is one of the first Gorillaz songs without any collaborations in years, and the results are…alright. It’s a nice, slow comedown from “Cracker Island,” a soft, electronic lull like trees swaying in the wind. I like the little Siri soundbites seamlessly integrated throughout—there’s some wonderful production going on here and on the rest of the album. Again, not a favorite, but it’s a solid calming song.

TRACK 4: “Silent Running (feat. Adeleye Omotayo)” – 6.5/10

…Murdoc bathwater to the rescue?

The last single to come out of Cracker Island, “Silent Running” is catchy, but there’s not a whole lot about it that’s terribly compelling. It’s a nice pop song, but compared not only to Gorillaz’s past catalogue and the album as a whole, it seems somehow blander, which for Gorillaz, is a word that I wouldn’t normally use with them under any circumstance. I do like Adeleye Omotayo’s backing vocals though—his rich voice really propels the song in the chorus and beyond.

TRACK 5: “New Gold (feat. Tame Impala and Bootie Brown)” – 8.5/10

Now THIS is more like it! The second single and an instant highlight of the album, “New Gold” is brimming with brightness, the talents of both Tame Impala and Bootie Brown coalescing into a near-perfect pop song. With its pulsating beat and Brown’s hypnotic verses, it’s an example of what Gorillaz can do with collaborators if they really try—make a truly seamless final product and a classic added to the catalogue. I almost don’t even mind Damon Albarn’s autotune here. Normally I’m opposed, but it strangely works.

TRACK 6: “Baby Queen” – 6.5/10

Cracker Island’s third single is still decent, but nothing groundbreaking. It just feels like it’s…there. It’s sitting there and not doing a whole lot musically—very little experimentation or even change in general in the music. Gorillaz can pull off a simpler pop song like nobody’s business, and although I’m all for a slow song, “Baby Queen” is alright, but overall, it doesn’t serve much of a purpose other than calming the album down.

TRACK 7: “Tarantula” – 7.5/10

Aside from the singles and some of the bonus tracks (more on those later), “Tarantula” was more refreshing than some of the album. It’s more interesting musically, and there’s no shortage of electronic brightness brimming from every note. Great to dance to and a high point on the original version of the album, I won’t just value it because it fits nicely into my playlist of songs with animals in the titles (spent way too much time on that…it includes “Shock the Monkey,” “Needles in the Camel’s Eye,” “Pig,” and at least four separate songs on this album, among others), but because it’s just a great song as well.

TRACK 8: “Tormenta (feat. Bad Bunny)” – 3/10

I’m sorry, this is just…nope. Can’t get on board with it. This song perfectly represents the other side of the spectrum of Gorillaz collaborations—the point where it becomes another artist’s song instead of a Gorillaz song. Even the parts where Damon Albarn comes in, he’s horribly autotuned, and sidelined as well. I don’t claim to know anything about Bad Bunny, but it just feels like a Bad Bunny song with extra steps. It barely fits with anything else in the album, and it seems pointless in the scheme of everything else. Yikes.

TRACK 9: “Skinny Ape” – 8.5/10

THERE WE GO, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!! For me, it’s tied with “New Gold” as the best song on the album (not counting the bonus tracks; it’s the solo Gorillaz song that I really missed, filled with a pulsating atmosphere that seamlessly shifts between moods, content to languish in the quiet but just as read to bring it up to a monumental, jump-up-and-down worthy chorus. It’s proof that even though the last two albums haven’t been as impactful for me, they’re still capable of a song as wonderful as this over 20 years on from their first album. They played this when I saw them back in September, and it’s just as fun now as it was then.

TRACK 10: “Possession Island (feat. Beck)” – 7.5/10

As the closer to Cracker Island and Gorillaz’s second collaboration with Beck, “Possession Island” is a soft, gentle close of the curtains for this album. Even with all of their spectacle, Damon Albarn and company can garner almost as much emotion in their more vulnerable moments, and this song is proof. It’s a sweet song that almost gives the feeling of being rocked to sleep. All I wish is that, like Stevie Nicks on “Oil,” I could hear Beck’s beautiful voice more; even if his role is just backing vocals, I just find myself wanting to hear his voice more clearly.

BONUS TRACKS

NOTE: “Silent Running (feat. Adeleye Omotayo) [2D Piano Version]” and “New Gold (feat. Tame Impala and Bootie Brown) [Dom Dolla remix]” are not included here since they are just different versions/remixes.

BONUS TRACK 1: “Captain Chicken (feat. Del the Funky Homo Sapien)” – 9.5/10

DEL AND GORILLAZ ARE TOGETHER AGAIN!!! I CANNOT GET OVER HOW GOOD THIS SONG IS. SERIOUSLY.

In theory, I can see why “Captain Chicken” was separated from the rest of the album—it doesn’t quite fit the vibe of Cracker Island as a whole, but on its own, it’s easily the best song on the whole album. Maybe it’s nostalgia bait since Del the Funky Homo Sapien hasn’t appeared on a Gorillaz track in over two decades, but if we’re extending this metaphor, I’ve taken a massive bit of said bait, because I just LOVE this song—it embodies the infectious, fun-filled joy that defined Gorillaz for so long. I’m back and forth on whether I want this song to be longer, but somehow, at just under two minutes long, it feels just the right amount. Can’t have too much of a good thing…or can we? I’ve had this song on repeat for several days now…

BONUS TRACK 2: “Controllah (feat. MC Bin Laden)” – 7/10

Any track after “Captain Chicken” has giant-sized shoes to fill, but “Controllah” is a great song all the same. With Damon Albarn’s autotune in moderation and the steady, pulsating beat throughout, it’s the perfect way to keep the momentum of the album running after the abrupt break of “Captain Chicken.” If you’re not nodding your head, you’re lying.

BONUS TRACK 3: “Crocadillaz (feat. De La Soul and Dawn Penn)” – 8/10

DE LA SOUL AND GORILLAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH DE LA SOUL AND GORILLAZ AGAIN DE LA SOUL AND GORILLAZ HHAHHAHHEHEHFHFEHEFHFEJFSHJHKJDFSKHDF

And speaking of big shoes to fill, it’s hard to top both “Feel Good Inc.” and “Momentz,” but like “Controllah,” this song is the perfect way to keep the beat going, but also to provide a more laid-back transition to the album. Plus, there’s something to be said for the prospect that every time Gorillaz and De La Soul collaborate, the Earth heals a little bit. Nature is healing; Del the Funky Homo Sapien and De La Soul and Gorillaz are doing stuff together again. All is right in the world. Sort of. Not really. Sure feels like it when you’re listening to this.

I’ve averaged my track ratings both with and without the bonus tracks; I’d give the original album a 6.9, which I’ll round up to a 7, and the deluxe edition a 7.2. The deluxe edition brings up the quality of the album as a whole, for sure, but after a few listens, I like Cracker Island slightly more than I did on the first go-around. It grew with time, but not by much; though it wasn’t nearly as innovative as Gorillaz at their best, it had moments of fun and a few tracks that I can see sticking with me. Better than Song Machine, but nothing that will change my life as a whole. Other than how unbelievably good “Captain Chicken” is.

…can’t believe I’m saying that about a song called Captain Chicken, of all things…that’s the power of Gorillaz

And for kicks and giggles, I’ll bring back this wonderful homemade sign from when I saw Gorillaz to end this post:

Since this is an album review, consider the whole album today’s song.

That’s it for this album review! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Monthly Wrap-Ups

February 2023 Wrap-Up ⛷

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I’m running out of winter emojis for these wrap-ups…what else am I supposed to do when this month has been so consistently cold and miserable? Totally can’t tell how ready for spring and summer I am, can you? Nuh uh, no way…

The snow has made for some pretty beautiful scenery, though. I will say that.

GENERAL THOUGHTS:

February’s been a quiet month for the most part (although the high winds last week made me feel like I was in The Wizard of Oz, and not in a good way), which I alway appreciate. The great thing about taking mainly humanities classes is that midterms are a lot less stressful—most of my classes just have papers, so they’re far less daunting. And it’s been great to have comics and sci-fi as my reading material—even though my science fiction class has had its ups and downs, I loved re-reading All Systems Red and re-watching Blade Runner 2049 for homework.

I felt like my reading slowed down, but looking at the numbers, it really didn’t. School reading has started to make up a significant portion of what I read now that I’m in more English classes, but I’ve read a lot of interesting novels and graphic novels—Bitch Planet, Monstress, and now re-reading Kindred, to name a few. But I did read a bunch of great novels for Black History Month in my free time, and I’ve discovered so many wonderful books! I just finished The Fifth Season, and I’m kind of invested in the series now…

Other than that, I’ve been watching Only Murders in the Building (✨fabulous✨), Our Flag Means Death (not as funny as people made it out to be, but the last two episodes HURT), and Flight of the Conchords (THEY CALL ME THE HIPHOPOPOTAMOUS, MY LYRICS ARE BOTTOMLESS…[cough]), drawing, playing guitar, skiing for the first time in over a year (so much fun, but also so much soreness), and listening to new music from Black Belt Eagle Scout and Gorillaz. So much new music out (that’s on my radar) already…

READING AND BLOGGING:

I read 20 books this month! I feel like school reading has taken up a good chunk of what I’ve read this month, even if it’s been re-reads, but what I’m loving about college is that I’m reading more novels that I’m interested in (with the exception of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?…ew), so that’s a plus.

2 – 2.75 stars:

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

3 – 3.75 stars:

Ms. Marvel: Fists of Justice

4 – 4.75 stars:

The Fifth Season

FAVORITE BOOK OF THE MONTH (NOT COUNTING RE-READS): Nothing Burns as Bright as You – 4.5 stars

POSTS I’M PROUD OF:

POSTS FROM OTHER WONDERFUL PEOPLE THAT I ENJOYED:

SONGS/ALBUMS THAT I ENJOYED:

the first half of this month was nothing but Super Furry Animals, and that’s not a complaint at all
and when the dust settled after said Super Furry Animals, all that was left but two older St. Vincent singles that I put on repeat
“Panopticom” was pretty good, but THIS has me really excited for i/o
GUESS WHO’S BACK
such a lovely album!!!
you thought you could escape Blur on this blog? fools

Since I’ve already posted once today, check out this week’s Book Review Tuesday for today’s song.

That’s it for this month in blogging! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 2/26/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! Hope this week has treated you all well.

Here we are at the end of the shortest month of the year, and we’ve got a bit of a…chaotic mishmash of songs for the occasion this week. I suppose it always is, but even though the album covers are somewhat coordinated, the songs were strung together like angry children reluctantly getting shoved into a family photo. I like them all, though, and I hope you do too. Climb aboard the (emotional) rollercoaster, you never know what’ll hit you. Hopefully not whiplash.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 2/26/23

“The Court (Dark-Side Mix)” – Peter Gabriel

“Justice is a luxury for the rich” HERE KING YOU DROPPED THIS 👑

I end up sacrificing color schemes for chronology in these posts more than not, but in the end, it’s more about talking about the music I’m generally liking, so I’ve abandoned the guilt at this point, even though we’re closer to the next full moon to when “The Court” actually came out. Anyway.

I talked a bit about “Panopticom” last month, and I liked it, but it felt like there was something missing. Turns out that this song was what was missing—I was already excited for i/o, but “The Court” is getting my hopes up. From the barely audible, slowed-down laughter hidden in the intro, there’s a creeping, sinister feel to the whole song; you can almost feel a shadow being cast across your body when the chorus echoes with “And the court/Will rise/While the pillars all fall.” It’s a slow build, but unlike “Panopticom,” which left a sort of void that I was waiting for the entire time, “The Court” weaves into an ominous spectacle, that, regardless of the Dark-Side or Bright-Side mix, wraps you up in a cloud of smoke. A bit of theatricality, almost reminiscent of some of Gabriel’s orchestral reimaginings of his earlier songs, creeps into the bridge as his voice (still just as rich even when he’s in his 70’s…oh, happy belated birthday, by the way!), making for a song that functions as an individual piece, but has the feeling of a great album opener. I’m not even sure. I think it would be a good opening, but we won’t have any semblance of order for i/o until the end of the year, so we’ll see…

“MFSOTSOTR” – Sidney Gish

As of now, it’s been a few weeks since the actual announcement, but Sidney Gish is back!! She’s been teasing a new album that was originally set to be released in January, but as of now, is still being worked on. But for now, she’s released two singles as part of the Sub Pop Singles Club—this song and “Filming School,” which is just as great. On the process of writing “MFSOTSOTR,” Gish said that “the lyrics were freestyled while staring at a meme of a buff man wearing high-waisted jeans. No edits were ever made to ‘MFSOTSOTR.’ It has haunted my hard drive for three years.” And if that doesn’t sum up the wonderfully oddball spirit of Sidney Gish both in her songwriting and personality, then I don’t know what does. Even though it’s barely a minute long, this song is packed with everything that endeared Gish to me back in 2019—it’s the definition of carefree, building off of freestyle riffing without any worry about meaning. From the deliberate mispronunciation of “question” to the delicate layering of Gish’s harmonies, it’s made me so excited for what the future has in store for her—let’s hope that album comes out soon (whenever she feels like it’s ready, of course), but for now, we have some bite-sized, joyful weirdness to enjoy for the time being.

“Enter One” – Sol Seppy

And now we’re at the polar opposite of the spectrum of sadness. Whoops. Apologies for the emotional whiplash.

I can thank my mom for this one after she found it in the soundtrack of Dark (which I still haven’t seen, oops), and all I can say is that it’s heartbreakingly beautiful. This is my first exposure to Sol Seppy (a stage name for Sophie Michalitsianos), but knowing that she was part of Sparklehorse’s backing band for several years (most notably on their 2001 album It’s a Wonderful Life) makes the sound of this song make even more sense. It has the same bare, melancholic sparseness, with a delicate piano as the only instrumentation for most of the song. That should be enough to signal how rough of a ride this song is, but I digress. Seppy’s voice does no small amount of heavy lifting as its layered over each other, rising like an impending tidal wave that casts a long, creeping shadow over the beach. And given that, from what I can sort of glean from the lyrics, it seems to be about letting go and welcoming/coming to terms with death (“Fear not this light/We are on this light divine/Welcome/Enter one”), the atmosphere is palpable—it’s a painfully beautiful song, and it’s difficult to listen to, but nonetheless a gorgeously written piece of music. I guess that’s why at least 3 different death (or somehow emotional) scenes from several different movies or TV shows came up when I searched it on YouTube…

“Rotten Ol’ me” – Shakey Graves

Alright, here we go. Back to happy times again. The dark clouds have parted, and in the sunshine comes Shakey Graves.

I haven’t had the time to listen to Deadstock – A Shakey Graves Day Anthology in its entirety, but I decided that I’d listen to the iTunes previews of the songs that sounded promising to me. I sifted a handful out of that initial listen, but “Rotten Ol’ me” has quickly risen to my favorite of the bunch. The opening riff perfectly captures the feel of this song—darkly mischievous and playful, with the feeling of a tiny devil with a pointy goatee sitting on your shoulder with a guitar. (Or maybe the giant, hovering skull on the album cover instead? Either one fits the vibe, really.) Alejandro Rose-Garcia is, without a doubt, one of the more innovative alternative/folk musicians to come out of the past few decades, and that’s not even talking about some of his drum techniques, but “Rotten Ol’ me” is proof of his sheer guitar prowess. With its multilayered melodies and a rapid plucking style that makes my fingers hurt just think about it, each note feels like a thread in a giant tapestry, each one knotted to the other to create a lively folk song full of hooks.

“D.I.Y.” – Peter Gabriel

I thought I was done doubling up after two weeks ago, but Peter Gabriel will always be just that good. This one’s worlds away from the feel of “The Court,” and it comes off of his second album, Peter Gabriel 2: Scratch (you know, the one where he’s got the frighteningly long acrylics—oh, those are scratches, you say?). My first thought upon listening to this was that it reeked of Berlin Trilogy-era David Bowie (Low, “Heroes,” and Lodger, for reference). Scratch was released just a year after both Low and “Heroes,” so there’s no doubt that this guy was leaning over Bowie’s shoulder and taking notes and hoping that he wouldn’t notice. Robert Fripp produced this album and worked with Bowie around the same time as well, so I guess there weren’t any hard feelings. Still a few years fresh off of Genesis, “D.I.Y.” is full of art-rock defiance, jangling and bright but ready to spit in the face with it’s pre-chorus: “Come up to me with your ‘What did you say?’/And I’ll tell you, straight in the eye, hey!/D.I.Y.” With its climbing instrumentation and Gabriel’s simultaneously bright and rich vocals, it’s instantly catchy, proof of his versatility even that early on in his career.

Since today’s post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 2/19/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

Another week, another snow, and another wish for just a little bit warmer weather. Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I’m a fan of snow until May…but I think these songs are more fit for spring or summer. At least the colors are.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 2/19/23

“Fancy Dance” – Black Belt Eagle Scout

I talked about The Land, The Water, The Sky more in depth in my album review a few days ago, but out of the newest songs, “Fancy Dance” was an immediate standout. As short as it was—one of the shortest tracks on the album, in fact—it immediately snagged my by the shirt collar on the first listen, so much so that I didn’t notice that my water bottle that I’d been filling had started to overflow. This song is what I’ve been wanting from Black Belt Eagle Scout for so long—Katherine Paul letting loose, unleashing a bite-sized package of driving, alternative rock joy. Paul’s air-light voice juxtaposes with their lightly-fuzzed guitars, making for a summery, upbeat, and carefree hit that instantly makes me want to get up on my feet. The whole album was fantastic, but this was one of the best songs I’ve seen her do in recent years.

“Meet the Parents” – Jim Noir

Back with another lovely, upbeat tune, here’s one from an artist who I’ll never stop describing as criminally underrated. “Meet the Parents” comes from Jim Noir’s debut EP, A Bird Sings in Wool, and man, all I can think is that if I publish something as good as this right off the bat, I could honestly die happy. The whole EP is nothing short of brilliant, but this song always pops back out at me. “Delightful” really is the best word to describe it—as I hear the lines “If I had to meet your parents/I would probably lose my head/And my legs would fall off/And my eyes would fall out,” “delightful” isn’t exactly the word I’d use right off the bat, but the whimsical, Britpop delivery of it gives me a more cartoonish image of little googly eyes tumbling out of flat, 2-D sockets and bouncing around like rubber balls. There’s a consistently lighthearted feel to it all; A Bird Sings in Wool is the musical equivalent of a light spring rain—not the kind that ruins your day and makes you gloomy, but the kind that makes you want to run out on the lawn and spin around in the dewy grass.

+ if you have the means, I’d highly recommend supporting the wonderful Jim Noir on Patreon! He’s been putting out several EPs over the past few months which will eventually grow into an album, so if you want to hear new music from him firsthand, look no further!

“Sing” – Blur

The fates (read: that list randomizer website) picked Blur’s debut album, Leisure, for my listen this week, and for the most part, it was a good album; I wouldn’t say that there are any bad songs on it, but it did tend to err on the side of repetitiveness (they even had a song called “Repetition,” funnily enough). It’s the clear product of a monumental band first trying to find their feet and create a signature sound, but only dipping their toes in the pool water where the album cover’s swim cap lady is resting beside. I’d only heard “She’s So High” and “There’s No Other Way” before listening, and now I can add “Bang” and “Wear Me Down” to some of my album favorites, but musically, “Sing” is the most unique of them all. Clocking in at just over six minutes long, “Sing” is like drifting through a haze, windmilling your arms around as you try and fan away the fog. Over the droning melodies, the harmonies of Damon Albarn and Graham Coxon create a dizzying, proto-shoegaze atmosphere that envelops you until the final grinding of the last 10 seconds. It’s so radically different than anything else on the album, and even here, at the very start of their career, you can already hear the forebears of some of the more experimental tracks on Blur, 13, or even Think Tank, a magnifying-glass glimpse into what Blur would eventually become. It’s comforting to know that they were always a little weird from the start.

“Shy” – Hether

A chance encounter on an old friend’s Instagram story led me to this bright and summery song, and it’s been on repeat ever since. It has all of the sweet simplicity of a 50’s love song, translated into modern terms with punctuated record scratches and woozy vocals. Everything about “Shy” seems bright—the tones of the barely-faded electric guitars, the hazy cloud of electronic background noise, and the acoustic guitar strums—the clearest thing to come through in this song, like a lighthouse beacon in the middle of a misty sea. The bright, lime green of the cover of the Hether Who? EP only increases the feeling of carefree summertime that this song emanates in waves. Right down to the last distorted notes, it’s a perfect example of the persistence of a simple, 3-minute pop song, just barely translated into indie. It’s a time-tested formula. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

“Fate Is…” – Wednesday

After hearing about Wednesday on NPR and listening to “Cody’s Only,” I ended up snagging a few other songs of theirs from Apple Music on a whim. “Fate Is…” immediately stood out, coming in strong like a punch in the face with a tidal wave of grungy guitars and percussion and Karly Hartzman’s relentless, persistent voice. It’s a song that grabs you by the shirt collar and never lets go, especially when Hartzman’s voice rises past the point of cracking along with the edges of the instrumentation. Even when the momentum dips down in the chorus, it’s brought back up screaming, never letting go until every instrument seems to vanish into thin air in the last seconds in the song, winking out of existence in a smoky cloud, leaving only remnants of the fuzz behind. This is only one of my first few Wednesday songs, but I hope they don’t lose their guitar-heavy sound. Maybe I need to give I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone a listen too.

Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 2/12/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

It appears that my way of telling the world that I’m very done with winter, thank you very much, is by making brighter and brighter color schemes for these posts. The songs aren’t *all* necessarily happy, but hopefully a handful will bring some warmth to you into these chilly times. Bring on Spring already, huh?

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 2/12/23

“Bicycle” – St. Vincent

You know those movie/TV scenes where the protagonist sees somebody from across the bus/train station, and then the bus/train/insert vehicle of your choosing passes by, and the person mysteriously disappears by the time the protagonist looks back?

forgive the, ah…interesting editing, this is the only clip I could find 🥴

Yeah, that. Sort of. Maybe a bit artsier. Not to dunk on the Sam Raimi Spiderman movies, my beloveds (except for this one, I still haven’t seen it), but I can’t think of an artsier example. More in line with the feel of the song.

My roundabout point is that this is how “Bicycle” makes me feel—I could either be the mysterious person who disappears behind the train, or the onlooker watching them from across the tracks. I can practically feel the beret, peacoat, and plaid scarf descend upon me, walking through puddles in high-heeled boots as the mysterious person from across the station vanishes…

As much as I adore St. Vincent’s shreddier side, I always feel a little nostalgic for her earlier, art-pop days when I hear songs like this. I didn’t even know it existed until I saw it hidden in her earlier singles, apparently a b-side to “Actor Out of Work” that never made it onto Actor and sort of faded into the background of her catalogue. And even though it fits more of the impressionistic forays of Marry Me, it’s a crime that this song doesn’t get any attention. With a slow build from a collage of light woodwinds and pianos, it feels like a watercolor painting of a city in the rain. Annie Clark’s voice, which rocks like gentle waves as she muses about a stolen bicycle and a pair of tennis shoes, creates an atmospheric painting of a song. The point at about the 2:36 mark where the background steps into a different key, practically feels like levitation. It’s a beautiful song, and it’s a crime that it took me this long to find. Either way, what matters is that I have the chance to listen to it now, and I’m already starting to listen to it nonstop until I’m sick of it. I doubt I’ll get sick of it.

“Cody’s Only” – Wednesday

I found out about Wednesday completely on a whim while glancing at an article about NPR’S 2023 artists to watch. I came around to this song, and just like that, I’ve got another few albums added to my never-ending hydra of a list of albums I need to listen to. One song was all I needed to get hooked; Karly Hartzman’s vocals have a likably nasally quality to them, lingering in the quiet, guitar-plucked first minutes of the song, then soaring to the point of exhaustion as the guitars explode into fuzz once more. “Cody’s Only” is a song that keeps you on your toes: you think it’s just another quiet, sadgirl indie song for the first thirty seconds, but as soon as the heavy guitars and percussion kick in, you’re blown out of your seat. I’ve only listened to a handful of their songs now, but they remind me a little of Snail Mail, maybe with a bit of Horsegirl mixed in, but I’m sure that I’ll be hooked on at least a few more of their songs. I don’t want to get my hopes up too too high, but I might be a fan…

“Hello Sunshine” – Super Furry Animals

And you thought I was done with Super Furry Animals for the week? Gotta keep you on your toes somehow…

I already talked a bit about the Wendy & Bonnie sample at the beginning of this song last week, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk more about this song, especially with how much I’ve been listening to it lately. Despite how much said sample creeped me out, it’s a song I remember fondly from my childhood, and it still retains that signature joy to this day. Paired with the music video and its cheery, pseudo-pegasus creatures, it’s a song that brought sunshine into some of the freezing days of the past few weeks. After the distorted sample fades out, it launches into a perfect package of Britpop joy. It’s not as loud, explosive, or experimental as some of their other hits, but it’s pure comfort. Listening to it feels like you’re in the strange, animated world of the music video, bright, cartoony, and filled with…well, sunshine. It’s a song that’s begging for the hopeful end credits of a movie, and it’s a song that never fails to fill my heart with a little warmth in these cold months.

“These Days” (Nico/Jackson Browne cover) – St. Vincent

Another St. Vincent song that I had no idea existed until recently…I’ve given up all shame in doubling up on artists on these posts now. I am forcing you to listen to St. Vincent singles ca. 2008-2009.

You can’t deny how somber this song is (and Jackson Browne apparently wrote it at 16? never ceases to amaze me), but there’s some kind of intangible hope that Annie Clark’s take brings to it. This was one of the first singles she ever released as St. Vincent, a b-side of “Jesus Saves, I Spend,” and it’s hard to think of a better cover to go along with the art-pop sensibilities of Marry Me. The more delicate side of both Annie Clark’s airy voice and her intricate guitar playing suit this song; maybe it’s this that gives this version more hope: there’s a hidden brightness in her instrumentation, wistful, but not quite sunk in sadness. Clark might as well be a sort of musical, more positive King Midas—every cover she touches turns to gold, and even if it was already gold, she makes it shine even more.

(…except for that cover of “Funkytown.” We don’t talk about Funkytown.)

“Main Titles” (from Only Murders in the Building) – Siddhartha Khosla

We’re ending on a happy note, trust me. Short and sweet.

I’ve recently started blowing through Only Murders in the Building (NO SPOILERS, I STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED SEASON 2), and it’s easily the most delightful show I’ve watched in ages. And given that the premise surrounds a true crime podcast and an actual murder, that’s saying something. But then you throw in two eccentric old guys and an equally eccentric Selena Gomez, an old apartment building in New York City, and some weird shenanigans involving a cat, and it’s instantly the most comforting murder show you will ever watch. And it’s almost enough for me to forgive Cara Delevigne for getting on my nerves so much, and that’s saying something.

Key word there is almost. The bar is in the Mariana Trench.

But one of my favorite parts of the whole show, the very thing that shouldn’t have a whole lot to do with the content of the story itself, is the opening credits:

I could go on for days about how wonderful the animation is, but half of what makes it shine is the background music. Even though it’s short enough for YouTube to constitute is as a Short™️ (and definitely not Trying To Capitalize Off Of The Success Of TikTok™️), it perfectly encapsulates the mood of the entire show; it’s all played in a minor key, giving it the slightest bit of a sinister air, but the combination of the strings, choir, brass, and the delightful little chime at the very end give it a strangely cozy, warm feel. It almost has the feel of some of the work Danny Elfman has done for Tim Burton (I know that doesn’t narrow it down at all, but hear me out); there’s an air of spooky around it, but there’s an undeniable whimsy that carries the entire song. A good theme song is hard to find in the days of the “skip intro” button (and anybody who skips this intro deserves jail time, I don’t make the rules), but this is an instantly memorable one.

Since this whole post consists of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.

That’s it for this week’s Sunday Songs! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves.