Tag: Album review

Posted in Music

Phonetics On and On – album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles! Finally had time to do an album review…unprecedented…

I first fell in love with Horsegirl in my senior year of high school. Back then, they were afloat on a handful of singles and on the cusp of a debut album. By the time Versions of Modern Performance came out, it was the soundtrack to the summer before I went to college. Their clever, endlessly creative style, informed by the ’70s and the ’90s in equal measure, enchanted me—it felt like almost nothing like what many other musicians of their generation were putting out. Along came 2024, and the promise of something somehow even better was on the horizon: a new Horsegirl album, produced by Cate Le Bon and recorded in The Loft, the famous (at least to me) Chicago studio owned by Wilco. What could go wrong? Almost nothing, as it turns out—Phonetics On and On is proof that the playful, inventive spirit of Horsegirl lives on, and that it’s beginning to mature into something spectacular.

Enjoy this album review!

PHONETICS ON AND ON – HORSEGIRL

Release date: February 14, 2025 (Matador Records)

TRACK 1: “Where’d You Go?” – 8/10

Just shy of two minutes long, “Where’d You Go?” is a song that lives up to the band name—the propulsive beat has the urgency of a racehorse speeding down a track. Drenched in tight, Feelies-esque (crazy) rhythms, it kickstarts the album with a jolt of sparking energy. Gigi Reece’s drumming has the lightning-fast patter of rabbit’s feet against the dirt, while the dueling voices of Nora Cheng and Penelope Lowenstein tug the track in two directions, a short leash that snaps to allow for a crayon’s scribble of a guitar riff to burst in at the 1:12 mark. The frenetic energy is a remarkable bridge from their work on Versions of Modern Performance to this album—vestiges of their earlier compositions, but the beginnings of a divergence into musical maturity. That’s how you start an album.

TRACK 2: “Rock City” – 7.5/10

Reining in the freewheeling energy of “Where’d You Go?”, “Rock City” mellows the album into the pace that much of the rest of Phonetics On and On settles into. It’s odd to have a more transitional track by only track two, but that feels like the function of “Rock City” is to me—it’s one of the weaker songs on the album, but nonetheless great; it serves to weave together the fluctuations in energy from track one to many of the others. That being said, it’s not a bad song by any stretch of the imagination. With its pastoral imagery and catchy, upbeat stillness, it’s the perfect track to relax the unbridled momentum of the opener. Cheng’s lighter vocals give it a gentle levity, while the sudden jumpstart in structure at 3:16 ensures a recurring theme on the album—you can’t be lulled into a false sense of security, because Horsegirl always has something up their sleeves.

TRACK 3: “In Twos” – 8/10

Initially, “In Twos” wasn’t a standout track for me. The slow pace didn’t bother me, but it didn’t grab me like many of the other tracks did. Yet the more I listen to the lyrics, the better it gets. Horsegirl are masters of crafting emotion from simplicity; much of Phonetics On and On was inspired by their collective experience of uprooting from Chicago to New York City to go to school at NYU, and the isolation of coming of age and moving to a new city. You can feel that understated alienation all over “In Twos,” a slow, wistful recollection of how “every car that passes by drives to you” and “your footprints on the street, they walk in twos.” It’s almost resentment, but feels to me more like a familiar feeling: watching people live normal lives as an outsider. The Rolling Stones-like repetition of “and I try” reminds me of that aching, to want to be accepted and feel normal and live a traditional life, but knowing that you’ll never fully mesh with them, and that life has a different destiny for you, no matter how hard you try to fight it.

Oof. Definitely got me there. Horsegirl lures you in with the “dadadadadada”s and then boom. ALIENATION! Seriously, this is starting to become one of the more impactful tracks on the album.

TRACK 4: “2468” – 8/10

Reviewed on Sunday Songs, 12/1/24 – a fascinating first taste of the album—Feelies worship, weird violins, Wes Anderson quirks, and above all, weird talent.

TRACK 5: “Well I Know You’re Shy” – 8/10

Picking up the pace that “2468” jumpstarted, “Well I Know You’re Shy” is just about the most Velvet Underground love song I’ve heard since Lou Reed tapped Moe Tucker to sing “After Hours.” I realize it’s hyperbole, but I can’t help but see the DNA woven between the two. Composed of old-timey phone cords and shyly open windows, it presents a love song that could only happen between two sharply-dressed Wes Anderson characters. Punctuated by Nora Cheng’s clean guitar riffs, it talks of a romantic looking out their window wishing to “sing for you/I wanna sing like I do/out your window,” continually rueing the fact that “what happened out there/I wish it was me.” There’s no tormented confessions of love or on-your-knees begging for a kiss, but a precocious, simple wish: “What happened out there/Well I know you’re shy/If you’ll listen to me/You’ll know I want to say hi.” I hesitate to call it childlike, but it has a doe-eyed purity to it that makes it so charming.

TRACK 6: “Julie” – 8.5/10

Reviewed on Sunday Songs, 12/29/24 – a glimpse into Horsegirl’s emerging introspective side, proof of their untapped ability to tap into tender emotion.

TRACK 7: “Switch Over” – 9.5/10

Reviewed on Sunday Songs, 2/2/25 – still the brightest, catchiest, and really the best song on the whole album.

TRACK 8: “Information Content” – 8/10

This is one of the brightest songs on Phonetics On and On, and I don’t mean that in intelligence—listen and you’ll understand. “Information Content” glows with the blinking spirit of a glass lightbulb. The brightness comes in no small part from how jangly they go with the guitars on this one—in between Reece’s soft drumming and egg shakers, Cheng’s voice is allowed to be so cheerful and airy, even when the lyrics might as well be crossing items off a grocery list or striking a day from the calendar. That’s the power of Horsegirl to me (Horsepower?)—they dredge so much playful joy from the mundane and ordinary, making a trip to the kitchen into a spring-stepped skip. There’s something about “Information Content” that feels distinctly Wilco to me as well—it seems that the influence of The Loft rubbed off on them. (How could it not?) At 2:58, the guitar solo kicks in, but gets crumpled into tinfoil chaos just as quickly; it’s so prickly and collapses in the blink of an eye, and I can’t help but be reminded of Nels Cline’s improvisations and swift-fingered touch to his guitar playing, or even the way that Glenn Koche’s drumming descends into madness during “Via Chicago.” Of course, nobody can come close to that level of masterful insanity (especially on their second album), but I can hear the influence loud and clear—and I love it.

TRACK 9: “Frontrunner” – 8.5/10

The last single to be released before the entire album came out, “Frontrunner” lies in the same vein as “Julie”—a slow-paced, more instrospective side to Horsegirl that’s unafraid to strip down to more raw, spare elements. On the composition, the band said that this gentler track was born after “[I] had just had a really terrible, emotional day…and Nora and I were like, ‘OK, we should just play guitar today, you need to do something.’ And we wrote that song together.” It’s so simple, yet so heartwarming to me that such a tender song came out of ordinary moments that we’ve all shared with friends; Even before I knew the context behind it, “Frontrunner” rang proudly as such a distinctly friendship song to me, and I loved it for just that. For me, it embodies another kind of college feeling, the post-freshman feeling of realizing “oh my god, I’ve got friends?” and that realization powering you through the day that you have so many new, wonderful people to share your life with who are only an arm’s length away. The repetition of “I can’t wait/And I can’t wait/And I can’t wait” is filled with a wistful, anticipatory glee despite the slower tempo of the track, but the happiness on the horizon is what made it such a winner for me. A frontrunner, if you—[gets dragged off the stage by a comically large cane]

TRACK 10: “Sport Meets Sound” – 7/10

Horsegirl claimed that they’re mostly finished with the “joke titles” that composed most of Versions of Modern Performance (“Rock City” is allegedly the last of its kind), but…if this isn’t the most Versions of Modern Performance title I’ve ever laid eyes on…

Taking cues from the more laid-back tone of “Frontrunner,” “Sport Meets Sound,” contrary to the speed that the title implies, eases the album close to hitting the brakes. With a steady, marching band-like drumbeat from Reece and strings of “dadadadadada’s” aplenty, it doesn’t do a whole lot to distinguish itself from the other tracks, in the grand scheme of Phonetics On and On; like “In Twos” and “2468,” it’s lyrically twins with “Rock City” (see the “Young man sickened by the sight” refrain), but unlike those two, it doesn’t stand out as much as the former two do. But if that’s a weaker Horsegirl song…man, I’m so impressed with their output, because even at their weakest, they can make a truly catchy indie rock song, and that’s just what “Sport Meets Sound” is. It’s a transitional song to the end, and it works perfectly as such.

TRACK 11: “I Can’t Stand To See You” – 8/10

Sliding in to give Phonetics On and On a final spark of momentum, this track lifts the smile of the album at large, a peppy victory lap that unites all of the best aspects of the album at large. The jangle-o-meter has been calibrated so much that it’s broken, the spring in their metaphorical step is even springier, the “da-da-da-da-da’s” unfurl out before you like a promising scroll. The lyrics become playfully self-aware both of the song’s status as an album closer: “Do you want to go home now?/The night’s almost through.” Yet with a sly wink, they promise that they’ve got more up their sleeve: “Just another walk around the block now.” It feels more like a closing theme to a children’s TV show than a closing track to an album; It declares that there’s one more bout of carefree fun to have before Horsegirl has to say goodbye. In a way, it’s a thesis of the album’s spirit: so aware of itself that it becomes a blast, and so carefully constructed that the joy is an integral part of the process.

I averaged out all of the ratings for each track, and it came out to an 8.1! Without a doubt, Phonetics On and On is set to become one of my favorite albums of the year…and it’s only February. Horsegirl bring a welcome, much-needed dose of free-spirited yet tightly-constructed craft into their art and to the world, piling catchy melody after catchy melody for a record that sees them maturing into fledgling artists, yet never denies the play that is central to their ethos. I’d go so far as to say that we’re all better for the joy they bring to their music. I know I am.

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

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

Posted in Music

All Born Screaming – album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Friday, bibliophiles!

2024 has proven to be momentous for my inner middle schooler. A new St. Vincent album, and the Apple TV+ adaptation of The Search for WondLa…exists. I may revert to my middle school self if everything else about the show is as terrible as the “reimagined” character designs. But that’s not what I’m reviewing today.

Those of you who have stuck around on this blog may remember me enthusiastically reviewing Daddy’s Home on the heels of surviving the hell that was junior year during COVID. Those who have stuck around longer still remember my middle-school rant about MASSEDUCTION. (I’d rather you…not remember the specifics of the latter, but I still count that album as her lowest point.) Her self-titled record was as much of a friend as an album can be when I was 12, struggling to reconcile being unapologetically myself and wanting the acceptance of my peers. Marry Me was the first album I ever bought with my own money, and Actor, Strange Mercy, and Love This Giant all saw me through high school. All that is to say that St. Vincent has been there for me in the best of times and the worst of times. So naturally, I did scream when I found out about All Born Screaming—not just a new album, but a supposed return to her harder sensibilities—was coming out this year. And while it wasn’t fully the rock album that was marketed—or as musically cohesive as she tends to be—All Born Screaming is, without a doubt, some of her best work in years.

As I’ve been excited about this album for months—and writing more about music than I have in past years—I’ve already reviewed 3/10 of the tracks from All Born Screaming, so I’ll link to each separate installment of Sunday Songs that I reviewed them in, so as not to sound like a feral, sobbing, broken record.

Let’s begin, shall we?

ALL BORN SCREAMING – ST. VINCENT

Release date: April 26, 2024 (Total Pleasure)

TRACK 1: “Hell Is Near” – 8/10

St. Vincent tying the aesthetic and merch in with images of marigolds is pure evil. Diabolical. Diabolical of them to pair one of my favorite artists of all time with my favorite flower…holding out until she announces a date near me until I buy that one marigold shirt, because it’s an inevitability. It’s only a matter of time.

“Hell Is Near” is an opener that creeps through the shadows on feet that you can barely see coming. With a thumping bass that thrums like a heartbeat witnessing horrors in the dark, it feels like the slithering transition between eras and personas, especially with the allusion to “The Nowhere Inn” (“Snubbed out smoke in a pack from the Nowhere Inn”). I can almost see Clark crawling out of some kind of giant shadow box as the song progresses, the heartbeat bass echoing off of every wall as her hands emerge from the darkness. I can’t help but think of the chord progression of “Prince Johnny”—this album is the most similar to the self-titled record since the record itself, and it’s clear that she’s cobbling this current aesthetic upon shadowier corners of that era, with guitar riffs that seem to interlock like strands of DNA. It’s a slow trickle of an opener, and as it dissolves into a flurry of high piano notes and fluttering synth, it leaves you guessing—where could she possibly be taking us to next?

TRACK 2: “Reckless” – 8.5/10

“Reckless” almost feels more like an opener than “Hell Is Near” does, even though the latter does a fantastic job of being an opener. After “Hell Is Near” dissolves, we return to sparse wasteland that the first track set up, but with a significantly darker tone—both speak of leaving the past behind, but “Reckless” turns “Hell Is Near”‘s willingness to move on to dwelling on it.

If there’s one thing about new music that I always live for, it’s those moments where you hear a lyric for the first time and physically have to stop in your tracks just to process how beautiful it is. Last year, I had that moment with Wilco’s stunning “Sunlight Ends”—”you dance/like the dust in the light” made all time stop around me. Jeff Tweedy just does that. And so does Annie Clark—it’s hard to think of a line on All Born Screaming more hard-hitting than this: “I’ve been mourning you since the day I met you.” Even if it precedes “Flea” and its tale of a love so predatory that it becomes parasitic, this feels like the fallout; it feels like a reconciliation, or just a realization of a feeling of destroying everything you touch, knowing that your actions will eventually drive away everyone that you will ever love. Whatever the narrator did has become so thoughtless and violent that it’s left them with nothing but “the smell of your hair on the curtains, babe,” and all that is left of them is a memory that they cling to with all that they can, knowing that what they did was enough to send them running for good. The sparkling synths that burst like faulty wiring at 2:38, around 2/3 of the way through, feel like the memory of the outburst that left them isolated, longing for something more, as Clark stares out the window like a widow remembering how her lover was slain in the war. This, unlike “Hell Is Near,” felt like a more certain sign of things to come—the wires have been cut, the dishes are shattered on the floor, and your heels are burnt and bleeding from stepping on them both.

TRACK 3: “Broken Man” – 10/10

Reviewed on 3/10—I haven’t stopped foaming at the mouth, thank you very much

TRACK 4: “Flea” – 10/10

Reviewed on 4/7—no, I still haven’t recovered from “I look at you and all I see is meat,” why do you ask?

TRACK 5: “Big Time Nothing” – 8.5/10

This is what MASSEDUCTION should have been.

All Born Screaming was what Clark called “post-plague pop,” and nothing exemplifies the “pop” aspect more than this song. Like the spandex she wore on the MASSEDUCTION tour, the skittering synths clamp the beat down enough so that it hardly even has room to squirm. There’s threads of Björk’s electronic catwalk-strutters and the obvious (to me, at least) nod to Peter Gabriel with the last utterance of “big time nothing” being cut off to a chorus of “big time”; a very fitting nod, since these two Big Times deal with the same Big Time in question: the allure—and detriment—of being under the magnifying glass of fame. Gabriel’s “Big Time” was his view on what fame turned people into—and what he feared that, as his own fame grew, he might become. (Of course he wasn’t going to, though. He’s too humble of a guy.) And even though Daddy’s Home was the first album post-MASSEDUCTION to deal with the litany of events Clark experienced, this one seems to address the scrutiny she felt under the microscope of paparazzi while she dated Cara Delevigne; she was already renowned in indie circles, but she’d never been exposed to that kind of relentless tabloid predation before, and, understandably, it’s done a number on her mental health.

Each lyric is a rapid-fire command, as though being dictated to a model while she’s spinning around for the camera: “Don’t blink, don’t wait/Don’t walk, you’re late/Don’t fall from grace, behave/Don’t trip, sashay.” Every misstep is tabloid fodder, and every move she makes is under heavy surveillance. The dead-eyed delivery of each spit lyric cements the soullessness of it all, other than an occasional vocal dip (“Don’t feel so sick”) where it turns from dead to sinister, a pseudo-coo that seems to come with a promise through red lips and an emotionless pat on the shoulder. It’s pop, but the kind of pop that’s delivered with Clark’s keen (and weary) observations on being in the celebrity spotlight—this is the natural evolution of “Los Ageless,” especially my favorite lyric from it: “girls in cages playing their guitars.” You can entertain, but you can’t move.

TRACK 6: “Violent Times” – 8.5/10

When the starts the All Born Screaming tour, she just has to transition this with “Marrow.” Or any track from Actor, come to think of it. “Violent Times” feels like a version of Actor that leans more into the boldness than the flighty, hiding-under-the-bed sensibilities. With a brass section powerful enough to flatten a forest, the dial is turned from observational pop back to the in-your-face force of “Broken Man,” but instead of the latter’s formal urges, it’s a leather jacket-clad beckoning back to a lover, sunglasses tilted down the nose and not a smear of lipstick out of place. As the brass blasts and the papery drumbeat thrums, Clark sultrily sings of the never-ending glow of kindness in the darkest hour—”I forgot people be so kind in these violent times.” Even though it’s made for Clark’s signature, birdlike dance moves, slick and smoky, it touches at some of the album’s tenderest moments. In the chaos of the modern world, it becomes more difficult day by day to remember that there’s still good left in it. But as Clark reminds us, what’s preserved from history’s great tragedies is always the innate, human quality of love: “When in the ashes of Pompeii/Lovers discovered in an embrace/For all eternity.” The subject matter and the musical atmosphere seem eons away, but in Clark’s hands, they’re all but twins, molded from the same warm clay into one of the most iconic tracks of the year.

TRACK 7: “The Power’s Out” – 9/10

Speaking of nods to other artists…

This one is the most obvious out of the many tributes to her musical inspirations, but for me, it’s the most emotional and poignant. “The Power’s Out” is, in essence, a four and a half minute long tribute to the iconic opener from David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, “Five Years”—in my opinion, one of the greatest album openers of all time, given the artistry, fly-on-the-wall observations, and the overwhelm of emotion. The nods are practically everywhere. My brother pointed out how the drumbeat is almost identical, albeit with one beat more and significantly digitized. The parallels are everywhere:

“Came the message on the station/’The power’s out across the nation/And, Ladies and gentleman, it seems we got a problem’/The man on my screen said, just as somebody shot him.” (Clark)

“News guy wept and told us/Earth was really dying/Cried so much his face was wet/Then I knew he was not lying.” (Bowie)

–

“It was pouring like a movie/Every stranger looked like they knew me.” (Clark)

“And it was cold and it rained, so I felt like an actor.” (Bowie)

–

“And ‘Ladies and gentleman, do remember me smiling’/The queer on the train said as she jumped off the platform/And some blind folks held the police, crying/I swear to you I would not lie.” (Clark)

“A cop knelt and kissed the feet of a priest/And a queer threw up at the sight of that.” (Bowie)

I’ve got a whole Charlie Kelly conspiracy cork board laid out in my head. It’s all blatantly intentional, and it’s beautiful to me, coming from someone who has said that “there’s nobody who I would put above Bowie.” But what separates “Five Years” and “The Power’s Out” for me is the grounding. “Five Years” was the grand sweep of the beginning of his famous concept album, where Ziggy Stardust comes to Earth in its final five years to teach humanity the power of love and music before their time is expired. It’s more emotional than “The Power’s Out” for me (because, like Clark, there’s nobody I would put above Bowie…but she’s very close), but even with the barrage of anguish that Bowie pours out at the song’s climactic, chaotic flurry of an ending, you still know it’s part of something fictional. With “The Power’s Out,” there’s no pretense of total annihilation or alien saviors—it’s the horror of reality, the horror of contending with modern life. The world isn’t ending, but the disarray of the city and the fear being grown and harvested in barrels makes every day seem like a catastrophe. We’re assaulted with hate and fear from all corners of the world, now more than ever, and no one is exempt. With all of the horrific events flooding us, all we can do is try to move through it as best we can, yet still be expected to return to it and live through it all over again; all of the chaos, fear, and violence Clark describes is wrapped up in a whispery confession in the final line, as though to a partner: “That’s why I never came home.” It’s a beautiful conversation with Bowie, one that grounds its inspiration in the maelstrom of dystopian chaos that is 21st century living.

TRACK 8: “Sweetest Fruit” – 9/10

Reviewed on 4/28—good LORD, this is phenomenal

TRACK 9: “So Many Planets” – 6/10

Why does the thumbnail for this video look like I’m at a parent-teacher conference and St. Vincent’s about to pull up my math grade and tell me that my test scores have been slipping 😭

There have been various moments on this album that have made me go “huh?”—unexpected musical turns left and right. It’s an album that, if nothing else, has kept me on my toes. But this was the first on the album that was not a good “huh.” Most of the early reviews of the album called it the emotional centerpiece, so I was expecting something in line with “I Prefer Your Love,” “Live In The Dream,” or even “Slow Disco”—St. Vincent knows how to bring things down to Earth from the grandeur that she paints. But “So Many Planets” is just a jumble of confusing decisions. Here’s the thing: the lyrics are vulnerably beautiful, but the tonal dissonance between said lyrics and the music makes the aftertaste one that I don’t like all the way. It’s got this odd, synthy, bounce, and her delivery is oddly stiff and angular. Usually, Clark is one to mesh two oddly contrasting elements and make them work (see: “Violent Times”), but here, it just feels so tonally distant that it falls flat. Separately, these aspects are commendable, but they weren’t meant to be together. This is the low point of the album, without a doubt, but in the grand scheme of things, if this is the worst song, then it’s a fantastic album.

TRACK 10: “All Born Screaming” (fear. Cate Le Bon) – 7/10

All Born Screaming, as wonderful as it is, doesn’t stick the landing so well…until it does. Combined with “So Many Planets,” “All Born Screaming” is another tonally dissonant, pseudo-reggae ball of confusion that sits strangely in my mouth. It seems like the kind of thing to be paired with the kind of perky dance that Clark often did with her backup dancers on the Daddy’s Home tour, and for a song that’s meant to be the album’s closing thesis and its title track, it…doesn’t work. Most of my thoughts on this song parallel my thoughts on “So Many Planets.”

But.

About halfway through, the freakout starts. Distorted voices bubble through the wire, guitars whine and screech, and an accelerated, anxious heartbeat propels “All Born Screaming” into its final form. Joined by the cavernous voice of Cate Le Bon, Clark turns the album’s title into a clarion call, howling out to the masses: an affirmation that despite it all, we are still here. We were all born screaming, and we will continue to scream until our last breath. We are here, and we won’t go away. We went into the woods that Clark spoke of, scarred by brambles and wild animals, but in one piece, stronger for having pushed through the journey. In the background, the electronics accelerate like sleek cars down a racetrack, setting off sparks. This takes up half of “All Born Screaming”‘s nearly 7-minute length, but even if the first part had been cut away, it would still be one of the most poignant moments on the entire album. I almost get choked up at the sudden drop-off of the electronics and the shift to just the chorus of Clark and Le Bon. It gets to you. Gets you right through the ribs…I just wish the whole song got the memo.

It’s an ode to growth in all of its ugliness, knowing that whatever you have survived, you can and will survive it again.

going insane trying to choose just one photo from this photoshoot to use bc THEY’RE ALL SO GOOOOOOOOOOD

I averaged out the ratings for each track, and it came out at an 8.5! All Born Screaming, even if it does lean in a musically scatterbrained direction, is some of St. Vincent’s most vulnerable work to date. Self-produced and deeply personal, it seems to map her heart in ways that haven’t been done in her previous albums. All of that shows—it’s a bold, furious, and boundlessly creative ode to surviving—of crawling free of the darkness and finding your way home to the guiding light of love. The journey may turn you feral, but once you’re free of all of the vile parts, you’re free—to scream. And there is no one’s primal scream I’d rather hear more than that of Annie Clark.

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

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

Posted in Music

Album Review: “Wall of Eyes” – The Smile

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

Apologies for a lack of Sunday Songs this week. I’ve just been busy with schoolwork, and I didn’t have time to polish anything for this week. I was, however, already about halfway done with this post by the time Sunday rolled around, so hopefully I can throw you a bone here.

My high school love of Radiohead predictably went down the pipeline to The Smile back in 2022, when their first album, A Light for Attracting Attention, was released. (I was going to review it then, but it ended up getting sidetracked by several other albums that were coming out at the time. Sadly, the Arcade Fire only took a few months to age like milk. Believe survivors.) Either way, A Light was one of my favorite albums of 2022, and I even had the incredible privilege of seeing them on that tour—that was a concert where I definitely cried a little once I’d gotten into the car. It was a beacon after I’d gotten through my first semester of college. Thom Yorke’s music isn’t one that I usually categorize as uplifting, but I remember saying—and thinking—that seeing them live was the happiest I’d been in a long time. And I meant it. Something mended a part of my soul that night.

So of course I lost my mind when I figured out that they were releasing Wall of Eyes so soon! And even more so that “Read the Room” would be among the ranks, which I’d been eagerly waiting to hear since December of 2022. I was afraid that I’d overhyped the whole shebang for myself because of how rosy those memories of seeing them were, but, as they often do, they did not disappoint—in fact, Wall of Eyes feels like a more refined effort after A Light, sharp and distinct in ways that make a colorful but cohesive record.

Let’s begin, shall we?

WALL OF EYES – THE SMILE

Release date: January 26, 2024 (XL Records)

TRACK 1: “Wall of Eyes” – 8.5/10

After A Light for Attracting Attention, The Smile’s trademark became the jazz-rock acrobatics that they regularly performed: unique time signatures and rhythms that were ever so artfully off-kilter. That’s part of what separates them from most other Thom Yorke or Radiohead-related projects, but the title track of this album proves that not every track has to be this way. Sometimes, they can revel in quiet, almost-acoustic numbers and make it feel as innovative as anything they’ve put out. “Wall of Eyes” adds another landscape of alienation to the general…well, absolute menagerie of those kinds of landscapes that Yorke has put out over the years, but this time trades uneasy synths for the strumming of an acoustic guitar, spare orchestral notes, and faint, rumbling synths that ripple like water reflected onto an unpolished ceiling. It’s a track that easily lets you drift into the immaculate world that Yorke, Greenwood, and Skinner have concocted, full of fainting pulsating lights and shadowy figures drifting in and out of focus. And Yorke’s fading, sinister laughter puts the icing on the already decadent cake, pulling this track into a haze of uncertainty and unwilling vulnerability.

TRACK 2: “Teleharmonic” – 8/10

“Teleharmonic” (if there could ever be a more Smiley song title) is where Wall of Eyes breaks out of its shell and begins to bristle and hum. Crackling with static and vibration, you can almost see the delicate waves strung through it, the kind of physical sound that feels like would shy away from your touch if you tried to lay a finger on it. Yorke’s voice is made to echo like he’s trapped in a digital cavern, resonating like words through a canyon distorted by a wool sweater of synths. Skinner’s thin, precise drumbeats seem to speckle the melody like falling bits of hail, melting into the kaleidoscopic vision that “Teleharmonic” plunges us headfirst into. If “Wall of Eyes” was the steady hand that eased you into the album, then this track is when the hand is wrenched away, leaving you to fall face-first into truly alien territory.

TRACK 3: “Read the Room” – 10/10

That’s your opinion

That’s how the story goes,

A magic rain, a magic rainbow,

So big it bends the light…

The Smile, “Read the Room”

Mark my words, this will not be the last time you’ll hear about this song from me. I’ll try to keep it short so I don’t find myself sounding like a broken record, but I can’t resist. This was my most anticipated track from Wall of Eyes, and I am elated to say that it did not disappoint in the slightest. Continuing the general theme of unrest (political, personal, and otherwise) and surveillance, it falls in the vein of “A Hairdryer” with its commentary, with its mentions of “magic rainbow[s]/So big it bends the light” and “massive egos.” To that, there’s no poetic response that Yorke has defined himself with; it’s gone so far that all there is to say is “I am gonna count to three/Keep that shit away from me,” as though to chide a child. And…well, yeah, at this point, that’s the only way you can probably speak to some our world leaders today, but it’s potent either way. “Read the Room” also feels like the smoothest, sleekest track to come out of The Smile’s catalogue, chrome-shiny but with all the same bite that they usually have. The intro is genuinely intoxicating to me, instantly loopable and blooming. Just as captivating as it was live.

TRACK 4: “Under Our Pillows” – 9/10

Episodes wiped clean,

This is major league make-believe.

The Smile, “Under Our Pillows”

Like “Read the Room,” “Under Our Pillows” opens with plucky, off-kilter guitar notes that could masquerade as synths just as easily. It gives the whole track the feel of watching a candy ad from the 2000’s, like I should suddenly be surrounded by Dippin’ Dots raining from the sky—everything is round, smooth, and full of artificially vibrant color. With a similar frantic, skipping beat as “Thin Thing,” it radiates both enticing sweetness and pent-up, anxiety, but there’s no denying that “Under Our Pillows” is full of energy—and a sinister energy, of course. (What else would it be, it’s The Smile! The Smile was always full of rotting teeth!) And to match the candy-colored vibrance is the promise of handshakes cloaked in lies—”A slate wiped clean, a white loss of feeling If you’re ready and willing.” Somebody’s taking the current environment of real, necessary change being nearly impossible to make because every politician you can think of has sold their soul and shoved themselves deep in somebody’s linty, corporate pocket well, huh? Guess he’s taking it well as any of us can. The western world may be an absolute joke, but at least Thom Yorke is here to pen some absolutely glorious music.

TRACK 5: “Friend Of A Friend” – 8/10

cannot stop thinking about the fact that Jonny Greenwood plays piano like a Peanuts character

Oh, what was that I was saying about politician’s being in corporate pockets? Oh…oh! Oh. Yeah. Comin’ atcha with round two.

“Friend Of A Friend” continues not just the political theme, but the pairing of said theme with enticing instrumentals to drive the hypnotic lyrics home. No pun intended, but just like the allure of money and the easy descent into corruption, this track is about as friendly as a Smile song can get, with its gentle, bass-driven start and Thom Yorke’s thin, resonant vocals, almost unchanged since at least 1999. It’s amazing how little (by little? okay, I’ll shut up) his voice has changed over the years; I wouldn’t call it deepened, but there’s undoubtedly a fullness that wasn’t all there in the post-Bends days. The pool was already full of his soaring, gut-wrenching falsetto, but the pool has only continued to overflow with his talent. The combination of Greenwood’s gentle piano and the soft hiss of Skinner’s drums only adds to the feel of the song being the last thing you hear before slipping into the trance, like someone’s put you under a spell, and the last thing you see before you go under is their eager eyes staring down at your prone body.

TRACK 6: “I Quit” – 7/10

I try not to worship the ground that Yorke, Greenwood, and Skinner walk on, but don’t worry, I still have criticisms of both this album and A Light for Attracting Attention. The main issue of the latter was that many tracks, despite being well-crafted and atmospheric, had the tendency to blend into each other—the same (no pun intended…oh god, I need to stop) jazzy, low-key rumbles that bled into each other too easily, like watercolors left to spill and blend into a muddy mess; every color was beautiful on its own, but they faded far too much into each other. For a title like “I Quit,” I completely expected it to be in the Bends-callback style of “You Will Never Work in Television Again,” but in actuality, it’s the slowest track on Wall of Eyes—I suppose the title makes a different kind of sense if the quitting in question is more from exhaustion and giving up as opposed to towel-throwing anger—”This is my stop/This is the end of the trip.” Drenched in delay on every possible instrument, “I Quit” has a lethargic crawl that could fit right in with A Light, but on this album, provides a calm respite from some of the more skittering, uptempo tracks. I see why it’s the subject of many critics’ ire, but I’d argue that this sleepier track has its place.

TRACK 7: “Bending Hectic” – 8.5/10

“Bending Hectic” was the very first single to come out of Wall of Eyes, and I reviewed it when it was released back in July (why, why, WHY did none of you tell me THAT I SPELLED THE SONG WRONG IN THE GRAPHIC AND THE POST?? WHY???) In concert with the rest of the album, it feels just as seamless and cinematic as it did when it stood alone. Now, bridged between the rambling quiet of “I Quit” and the uneasy shoulder-tapping of “You Know Me!” (see below), it feels like an elongated cat’s stretch, reveling in the softer moments but crashing like a volcanic explosion and letting the fiery debris rain down upon our ears with reckless abandon. Like “Read the Room,” it remains as gene-altering in real time as it felt seeing it live without knowing anything else about it, a swirl of sharp colors. And god. I can’t shut up about Jonny Greenwood’s guitar work, can I? I won’t. It never ceases to amaze me just how many innovative ways that this man can manipulate the instrument into something truly colossal.

TRACK 8: “You Know Me!” – 8.5/10

You are standing in my light,

You have wound yourself around me

Like you know me…

The Smile, “You Know Me!”

I wouldn’t have expected anything less from The Smile, but god, what a gloriously eery way to end the album. It has the feel of a latter-day Radiohead track, but with a much more modern sensibility—the lyrics are full of manipulation and trickery, which could just as easily be how it feels to be surrounded by advertising on social media in the corporate world, or just a sour relationship. Given Yorke’s history with this kind of thing (see: OK Computer), I’m gonna go with the former, but either way, the culmination is chilling, with echoing, distorted instrumentation and piano that sounds like it’s being transmitted from somewhere underwater. With the addition of the lyrics, “You Know Me!” feels like a boa constrictor slowly wrapping itself around your chest to suffocate you, but whispering in your ears that it’s for the best with every breath that it squeezes out of you: “None of this is mine/Always ‘you know me.'” Even the exclamation mark in the title feels like a corporate smile of misplaced trust, like a “we’re here for you!” as they lay off hundreds of their workforce. How’s that for an album closer, huh? Take notes.

I added up my scores for each track, and they came out to an 8.4! It’s really a shame that Wall of Eyes came out so early this year, because it’s going to be hard to compete with this album. (At least their competition is just as exciting—Chelsea Wolfe, IDLES, and…St. Vincent? Be still, my beating heart…) Now that they’ve slimmed down their track count and refined—and redefined—their sound, The Smile sounds as fully-realized as ever, brimming with sharp commentary and truly alien, expansive soundscapes full of vibrant colors. The talents of Yorke, Greenwood, and Skinner could never be called into question, but if they ever were, Wall of Eyes is a testament to their work as a truly powerful trio, cohesive and boundary-pushing in equal measure. (Why yes, I have had this on repeat for a solid week and a half, why do you ask?)

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

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

Posted in Music

Eye on the Bat – Palehound album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Wednesday, bibliophiles!

I haven’t even been into Palehound for a year; after loving Bachelor, her collaborative project with Jay Som, I decided to get a taste of her music last September, poring through her albums and EPs in a somewhat chronological order. There were hardly any misses that whole time—solid, guitar-driven indie rock the whole way through. So you can imagine my excitement when I found out that Palehound was releasing a new album this summer! And now, after playing it through many times, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a perfect indie summer album, full of sharp lyricism and shredding.

Enjoy this album review!

EYE ON THE BAT – PALEHOUND (album review)

Release date: July 14, 2023 (Polyvinyl records)

TRACK 1: “Good Sex” – 7.5/10

“Good Sex” is the perfect intro to Eye on the Bat: short, funny, and self-awarely so. It seems to stumble around as it builds to a nonexistent crescendo, as El Kempner paints a scene of plans gone wrong, each note climbing as the situation mounts into more and more awkwardness. The laugh in her voice escapes as she describes “our cat licking his ass and looking confused,” backed by two, persistent guitar chords in this song’s 1:41 entirety. Not the best track, but a great bit of self-deprecating, awkward humor to start the album off.

TRACK 2: “Independence Day” – 8.5/10

I am living life like writing a first draft

Cuz there is nothing to it if I can’t edit the past,

And even if I could, it would kill me to look back

No I don’t wanna see the other path…

Palehound, “Independence Day”

“Good Sex” may have been track 1, but I feel like “Independence Day” is where Eye on the Bat really starts off. One of the undeniable highlights of the album, Kempner presents a tumultuous breakup in the middle of a holiday, woven through bright and spidery acoustic riffs. It’s one of those great songs that doesn’t just paint an image, but makes you visualize it so clearly that you might as well be watching a movie. With every detail, Kempner sets her breakup against the backdrop of “foaming sugar in our laps/sparkler in my throat, can we just take it all back?” And the chorus, with its driving guitars and musing on alternate paths, makes for an exceptionally catchy and witty indie rock track.

TRACK 3: “The Clutch” – 8.5/10

I’m glad that you know better now

And I’m glad that you found yourself

But you didn’t need my help…

Palehound, “The Clutch”

Whoever decided to release “The Clutch” as the very first single from this album needs a raise. What better song to build up excitement for the album than this one? Eye on the Bat is undeniably a breakup album, but it’s the shreddiest breakup album that I can think of—and “The Clutch” is proof. From the get-go, it launches into guitar work that pierces its way through your headphones and feels, just as the chorus says, like “a punch in the gut.” The shift from the quieter instrumentation of Black Friday to Kempner’s fiery riffs on this album never feel unnatural—in fact, it feels like a return to form, calling back to earlier tracks like “Molly” or “Drooler.” Punchy and vibrant, this is, without question, one of Eye on the Bat’s best tracks.

TRACK 4: “Eye on the Bat” – 8.5/10

Broken wing ails a standing bird
She sings a gravelly call,
But flightlessness is nothing new
For an ostrich after all…

Palehound, “Eye on the Bat”

Eye on the Bat’s title track may slow the pace right after “The Clutch,” but the quality stays just the same. With its tangled riffs and steady drumbeat, it’s a real showcase of the deadpan wit of Palehound that endeared me to them when I first started listening to Dry Food. There’s not a single lyric that doesn’t pass my notice—I listened to these first few singles so much that I gaslit myself into thinking that “eye on the bat” was the actual expression and not “eye on the ball,” but that’s the power of a hooky song/album title. Other than being as snappy as it is, I can almost piece it into some of the album’s themes of being in the present; could “suckers will all tell you to keep watching for the ball/but better than that/keep your eye on the bat” be a mantra to focus not on what’s coming at you, but to focus on what’s tangibly in your hands? I certainly need to take that to heart, if it’s true.

TRACK 5: “U Want It U Got It” – 7/10

With a clicking, pulsing drum machine that sounds more like an old arcade game than Palehound’s normal sound, “U Want It U Got It” is a brief departure from the album’s cohesiveness—and from their sound in general. Though not all of it’s successful, it’s certainly catchy; though Kempner’s attempt to lower her voice comes out unsure and wavering, the steady, pulsating beat makes the song almost as vibrant as the other tracks. I wouldn’t say that there are any bad songs on this album, but this was a very brief low point. Experimenting is always welcome from Palehound, but this one doesn’t feel quite as successful, even if it’s a good listen. I’d still call it a good song.

TRACK 6: “Route 22” – 8/10

An instant head-nodder, “Route 22” feels all at once like classic Palehound and something fresh and new. It could’ve been right at home on A Place I’ll Always Go or Black Friday, but the maturing of Kempner’s songwriting makes it stand on its own. With its steady, Wilco-reminiscent, twangy-at-the-edges instrumentation and Kempner’s light, dreamy harmonization with herself, it’s a track that feels baked in the summer sun, smelling of fresh-cut grass and thinning clouds. Another highlight of Eye on the Bat, no doubt!

TRACK 7: “My Evil” – 7/10

This second single to come out of Eye on the Bat was my least favorite, and although I still like it, “My Evil” still hasn’t really grown on me. The lyrics are just as witty as any other song on the album, telling a narrative of grappling with yourself and the problems you’ve caused. But every time I listen to it, something feels like it’s missing. I still can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about “My Evil” feels almost bare and restrained, and not necessarily in an intentional way. With how well-written the lyrics are, it’s as though the music is struggling to catch up. That’s not to say that it’s an enjoyable song, but for Palehound’s fourth effort, it feels like it’s holding itself back. Either way, there’s no denying how great the lyric video is—whoever had the idea to make it mirror the opening credits to The Sopranos was genius.

TRACK 8: “Head Like Soup” – 8.5/10

My head like a pot of thick soup,
Stirred and tasted
I live to fill you up,
And I burn unwatched…

Palehound, “Head Like Soup”

What I thought was going to be a song about burnout or sickness (we’ve all had that feeling of having soup for brains, right?) turned out to be a great song about sacrificing your well-being for somebody else. And it’s one of the best songs on the whole album—certainly the best non-single tracks. I genuinely can’t find anything bad about this song; the instrumentation is impeccable, from the Wilco-esque chorus to the electronics creeping into the second verse. It pounds one minute and crawls in the next, never once losing its consistency or momentum. And what better way to end it than cranking up the distortion and letting it ring? Fantastic.

TRACK 9: “Right About You” – 7.5/10

With a gentler, folk sensibility to ease the album into its final minutes, “Right About You” is a tender, orange-colored piece of introspection. Every lyric makes a collage of moments leading up to an inevitable implosion, but lingers in the space between them. It’s a song that makes a gentle impact, like Kempner’s first lyric of “cold water breaking at our feet.” It isn’t as punchy and powerful as the rest of the album, but there’s no need for it to be—the final bits of introspection and quiet on this album are a perfect rest stop.

TRACK 10: “Fadin'” – 7/10

The fading (no pun intended) that “Right About You” set up culminates perfectly in this soft, gentle end of the album. With its drifting, subtle electronics painting the backdrop, “Fadin'” lingers in its faint distortion, almost all acoustic guitar and Kempner’s whispery vocals. However, it comes across as a song that solely came into being to be an album closer. Although it fits neatly into the themes of the album at large, I think it would have trouble standing on its own, as opposed to almost eery other track on this record. Nevertheless, it’s still a delightfully woozy, sleepy song, gently tucking you into bed as you say goodbye to the album.

I averaged out my ratings, and they came out right at a 7.8! Definitely reflects my thoughts to a T: a short, punchy album with no shortage of witty lyrics and songs to nod your head to. A perfect summer album, and a great addition to Palehound’s catalog!

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

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

Posted in Music

the record – boygenius album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

It’s finally here! The moment that I’ve been patiently waiting for…

After I discovered Phoebe Bridgers back in early 2020 (before it all went wrong), my boygenius revelation came soon after (right around when it really all went wrong). Not only was it my gateway to Julien Baker and Lucy Dacus, but it stood out as a representation of so many things—a critique of the pedestals we tend to reserve only for male artists, the way the music industry often lumps together “women in indie rock” simply because of their gender, and the magic that happens when three incredibly talented queer women get together and make music. Their self-titled EP, released in 2018, seemed to be the beginning and end of their relationship, but they secretly reformed and came together to release their first full-length album this March. And the results are simply magical, full of different highs and lows, but emotional and heartrending all the way through—in the best way.

boygenius’ Rolling Stone cover, an homage to Nirvana

Enjoy this album review!

THE RECORD – BOYGENIUS (album review)

Release date: March 31, 2023 (Interscope records)

TRACK 1: “Without You Without Them” – 8.5/10

never underestimate the power of an intro 🥲

If the record encapsulates the friendship of Baker, Bridgers, and Dacus, then this song is the perfect summation of that thesis. boygenius have made me so emotional over a cappella, somehow—their harmonies, pioneered in this case by Lucy Dacus, rise in perfect tandem, as each one thanks their parents, and their parents before them (“who would I be/without you, without them?”)—for the opportunities that brought them together as friends, by a cosmic miracle, and relishing in the quiet moments opening up to one another. Already a hard-hitter, and we’re barely even a minute into the album…

TRACK 2: “$20” – 9/10

Mama told me that it don’t run on wishes, but that I should have fun,

Pushing the flowers that come up

Into the front of a shotgun…

boygenius, “$20”

Rocketing from the quiet moments to a supersonic pace, “$20” remains one of my favorite songs on the album, even after everything else came out. Every lyric is delivered like a punch while grinning, each member’s voice coalescing and pulling apart at just the right moments, fading in and out of sync in perfect deliberation. Everything erupts with Phoebe Bridgers’ final scream, which remains one of the highlights of this album, where all of the pent up energy in this song bubbles to the top and fades out just as quickly. HAAAAAAAGH I STILL CAN’T STOP LISTENING IT’S BEEN LIKE 2 MONTHS

TRACK 3: “Emily I’m Sorry” – 8/10

This was my least favorite of the singles, but it’s still a beautiful heartbreaker of a song—like much of Phoebe Bridgers’ work, the instrumentation (which I still love, especially when everything seems to dissolve at 1:46) takes a backseat to her air-light, heartstring-tugging voice, and lets her shine. It just feels less cohesive as a supergroup—I get that all of the members had their songs that they wrote on their own, but this feels more like a Phoebe Bridgers single that just happens to feature Baker and Dacus than a boygenius song. It’s worked with some of the other songs in that style, but I feel like this would’ve worked better as just Phoebe Bridgers.

TRACK 4: “True Blue” – 8.5/10

sidenote—the shots of them sleeping in the film remind me so much of Blur’s “No Distance Left to Run” music video…

And it feels good to be known so well

I can’t hide from you like I hide from myself…

boygenius, “True Blue”

Hooooooooowhee, we’re back to Lucy Dacus throwing her whole fist into my chest and tugging at the heartstrings, huh? Is that what we’re doing?

Although (almost) nothing compares to the meteoric ecstasy of “$20,” “True Blue” is still a steadfast favorite of mine on this album. It’s a case study of how perfect the harmonies of these three are for each other. The way that Baker and Bridgers chime in on the bridge always makes my heart sing, as though they were somehow predestined to have this pairing of differently gorgeous voices, all joining hands in another ode to their mutual friendship.

TRACK 5: “Cool About It” – 9.5/10

But we don’t have to talk about it,

I can walk you home and practice method acting,

I’ll pretend that being with you doesn’t feel like drowning…

boygenius, “Cool About It”

This one rapidly rose to become my favorite on the album, and I’ve had it on repeat ever since. boygenius is versatile in the way that they organize songs together—sometimes it works with all of them singing at once, as in “$20,” but neatly-sectioned songs like this one, where each of the members gets their time in the spotlight, works just as well as the other. And this one’s the shining highlight of the album, a Simon & Garfunkel-inspired, introspective reflection on the complicated feelings of confronting people who were once prominent in your life—not being able to deny their toxicity, but grappling with not being able to outwardly show it. Each facet of their lyricism shines—Baker’s ability to dig directly into the emotional core of these feelings and making it look easy, Dacus’ dry but solemn display of wit, and Bridgers’ vulnerable confessions steeped in glistening stars. I have nothing but love for this song.

TRACK 6: “Not Strong Enough” – 7/10

Strangely, this was one of my least favorites of the album—the lyrics remain incredible (and the music video is so sweet 🥲), but there’s a country-pop twang to this one that doesn’t quite hook me all the way. There’s no denying how wonderful the ending is as Lucy Dacus builds up the bridge—”always an angel/never a god,” which all comes crashing together as we get another fantastic Phoebe scream.

TRACK 7: “Revolution 0” – 7/10

Though this one doesn’t hit me as hard as some of the others, Phoebe’s soft introspection truly shines on this song. The barely audible strings and the fluttering, dissolving synths make for an atmospheric song that feels like the musical equivalent of watching the sunrise on a crisp, winter morning. I can practically feel my breath fogging out before me, just as all three of their voices seem to gently drift into the air.

TRACK 8: “Leonard Cohen” – 6.5/10

Though Lucy Dacus’ lyrics are still funny and tender at the same time, this song feels oddly disjointed to me. Dacus’ voice comes in at a sudden, weirdly-placed time, and it doesn’t seem like it’s no purpose. Again: lovely lyrics, but the song never quite picks itself up from that initial, rocky start. I hate to say it, but maybe it’s for the best that it’s so short.

TRACK 9: “Satanist” – 8.5/10

(do I get something for being the 666th like on the lyric video for a song called “Satanist”?)

(STOP TRYING TO AUTOCORRECT CRED TO CREDIT SHUT UP SHUT UP)

One of my favorites after the singles, “Satanist” is proof that the neatly-sectioned format of letting each member sing a verse is a perfect way to let them all shine through! With Julien Baker’s witty lyrics and punchy guitars all the way through, it’s just a lovely chunk of indie rock all the way through. The ending, though drastically different, is just as wonderful, with all of their harmonies rising up like bonfire smoke into the night sky.

TRACK 10: “We’re In Love” – 8.5/10

If you rewrite your life,

May I still play a part?

boygenius, “We’re In Love”

Ow, did Lucy Dacus just get saddled with all dealing all of the emotional damage on this album? Does she just have a huge paddle that she’s just musically whapping us with? If that’s the case, “We’re In Love” was what knocked me off my feet for good…ouchie

Nearly 5 minutes long, “We’re In Love” presents Lucy Dacus and company ruminating on the nature of their shared friendship once more, reflecting on inside jokes and quiet moments spent together, and loving every inch of each other despite their flaws. Even outside of their cosmically aligned harmonies, it’s clear that boygenius have struck something truly special with their friendship, a connection that has allowed them to grow and produce no shortage of beautiful, creative works, and get to know each other better through it. It’s gorgeous…get out the tissues.

TRACK 11: “Anti-Curse” – 8/10

Turning back to the more fast-paced side of “Satanist,” “Anti-Curse” has Julien Baker letting loose once more. Though I enjoyed some of Baker’s other tracks more, it still has that raw vulnerability that endeared her to me when I first became a fan, but with the expansion of her more vast, Little Oblivions sound that gives everything even more weight. It feels like the whole song is painted in the same colors as the album color, with sunsets, breaking waves, and the taste of salt in your mouth.

TRACK 12: “Letter To An Old Poet” – 8.5/10

I wanna be happy, I’m ready

To walk into my room without looking for you,

I’ll go up to the top of our building,

And I’ll think of my dog when I see the full moon.

I can’t feel it yet,

But I am waiting…

boygenius, “Letter To An Old Poet”

Oh, so I see they let Phoebe Bridgers have this one tearjerker, and she took the opportunity and RAN with it? YOW.

I can’t think of a more fitting closer for the record. The whole song acts as a sister song to “Me & My Dog,” off of their self-titled EP, a reconciliation not only with the complications of a past relationship, but of a desire to heal oneself, move on, grow, and confront the truth. It’s clearly personal to Phoebe, but it feels like a collective healing call for all of them, a promise that the past is the past, but that we are all different people than who we once were. Every re-worked lyric acts as proof of change, a renewed mindset, and of hope that the future will be better while stargazing. Gah. Beautiful end to a beautiful album…

THIS PHOTOSHOOT HAD NO BUSINESS BEING THIS FUNNY 💀 I CAN’T GET OVER JULIEN IN THAT FRILLY DRESS HAHAHAEHJKEFKFDKJ

I averaged out all of the ratings for each track, and it came out to about an 8.1! I’m so glad that they decided to make a whole album—through all of the highs and lows, it displays their talents as individual musicians and as a collective creative force, and I’ll never get sick of their heavenly harmonies. And above all, it stands as a tribute to queer friendship, and every kind of love that we share, no matter the feelings that we associate with it. I’m sure it’ll be one of my favorite records of this year, without contest.

Since this is an album review, consider the entirety of the record to be today’s song.

That’s it for this album review! 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 Music

Sometimes, Forever – Soccer Mommy album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

In a continuation of my assertion that 2022 is the year that the music gods have blessed us, here’s a review of one of my most anticipated albums of the year!

I’ve been a fan of Soccer Mommy since hearing her on the radio years ago, listening to all of her albums and even seeing her live a few times (once opening for Vampire Weekend, the next time headlining—the crowd SUCKED for that one but she was great). So when I heard that she had a new album coming out this June, I was ECSTATIC. Unfortunately, the album ended up coming out on the same day that they announced that Roe v. Wade was overturned, so…yeah, that soured my mood for the whole weekend. But when I was able to get back out of the muck, I listened to this album, and it solidified itself as my favorite album of hers—each one just keeps getting better and better, and Sometimes, Forever was particularly adventurous!

(for my review of the album before last, color theory, click here!)

Enjoy this album review!

SOMETIMES, FOREVER – SOCCER MOMMY ALBUM REVIEW

TRACK 1: “Bones” – 8.5/10

You make me feel like I am whole again,

But I think your heart could use a tourniquet…

Soccer Mommy, “Bones”

Especially with the rest of the album to contextualize it, “Bones” is the perfect opening track for Sometimes, Forever. It feels just enough like classic Soccer Mommy that it feels timeless, but it’s a catchy, familiar-feeling song that eases you into the different direction that the rest of the album goes. On its own, it’s the perfect little indie-pop song: hooky, lyrically witty, and filled with bright guitars.

TRACK 2: “With U” – 9/10

This is where the album starts getting adventurous, and I’m 100% here for it! Lyrically, Allison is sharper than ever, but the addition of the more electronic instrumentals combined with her classic guitar work makes an immersive soundscape that swept me off my feet on the first listen. LOVE IT.

TRACK 3: “Unholy Affliction” – 10/10

This. THIS.

“Unholy Affliction” was the second single to be released from this album, and after “Shotgun,” this is what made me certain that I was going to love the album. My family and I agreed that it sounded like a Chelsea Wolfe song, something completely unexpected—and highly successful—for Soccer Mommy! Dark, immersive, and pulsating, “Unholy Affliction” was an instant favorite on the album, and one of her most daring songs to date.

TRACK 4: “Shotgun” – 8/10

Look at your blue eyes like the stars,

Stuck in the headlights of a car…

Soccer Mommy, “Shotgun”

This was the first single to be released for the album, and while it’s not the best on the album, like “Bones,” it’s an instantly catchy indie-pop song. In comparison to the rest of the album, it almost seems like Allison is playing it safe, but it’s also proof that even when she’s holding back, she can produce something as fun and memorable as this.

TRACK 5: “newdemo” – 7.5/10

Hear the city roar,

A creature that feeds behind closed doors…

Soccer Mommy, “newdemo”

Dizzy and strangely sweeping, “newdemo” strays into new territory like “Unholy Affliction” did. It’s clear that Soccer Mommy and company had fun messing around with different synths and distortions while producing this song; it feels like it’s actively being warped around as you listen to it, veering slightly off-key but bringing itself back together just as swiftly. Not quite as successful as some of its counterparts, but still a success in and of itself.

TRACK 6: “Darkness Forever” – 9/10

Again with the Chelsea Wolfe sounds!! “Darkness Forever” edges close to metal on several occasions, with a creeping bassline and heavy, distorted guitars. Just like “Unholy Affliction,” Soccer Mommy’s experimentations with darker sounds lead to nothing but success—definitely one of her best songs in recent years!

TRACK 7: “Don’t Ask Me” – 8.5/10

With its fast, punchy guitars and Soccer Mommy’s airy, alluring voice, “Don’t Ask Me” has an easy time of cementing itself as one of the highlights on Sometimes, Forever. While it doesn’t delve completely into darkness like “Darkness Forever” or “Unholy Affliction,” it’s unafraid to get heavier, which works completely in its favor. An instant earworm and one of my favorites off this album!

TRACK 8: “Fire In The Driveway” – 9.5/10

Saw it in your blue eyes

When you were just a small child,

Now you’re only ashes of a man…

Soccer Mommy, “Fire In The Driveway”

“Fire In The Driveway” grounds Sometimes, Forever after the fast-paced “Don’t Ask Me,” delving into the nostalgic melancholy that makes Soccer Mommy so memorable. With its instantly memorable lyrics and bright, echoing guitars, this one is an easy standout on an already fantastic album.

TRACK 9: “Following Eyes” – 7.5/10

The lyrics are as potent as the rest of the album, but there’s something about this that puts it lower on the list for me. It’s still a fantastic song, no question, but it’s almost as though it tries to mesh older Soccer Mommy with her newer, darker sound. It’s very close to making it, but there’s some tiny bit missing, something that doesn’t quite piece the whole thing together. Nonetheless, still a great song.

TRACK 10: “Feel It All The Time” – 8/10

Like “Bones” and “Shotgun,” this feels like a timeless Soccer Mommy song—if you had told me that it had been from color theory or even Clean, I would’ve believed you. Yet still, it easily finds its place on this album, deftly adding to the mix of borderline-playing it safe to exploring new territory.

TRACK 11: “Still” – 9/10

I don’t how how to feel things small,

It’s a tidal wave or nothing at all…

Soccer Mommy, “Still”

For the closing track, Soccer Mommy brings it home with a somber acoustic piece laced with ghosts of the strange synths that adorned a good portion of the album. Unlike “Following Eyes,” the blend feels natural, and Allison’s knack for bringing genuine emotion to the forefront creates a beautiful end to the album, and a beautiful song that can stand by itself.

I averaged out my ratings for this album, and it came out to about an 8.6! I’d say that’s right on the mark; with every album, Soccer Mommy gets better and better, and Sometimes, Forever is her best work yet—dark and bold, but unafraid to return to her candid, emotional roots. Love it!

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 Music

WE – Arcade Fire album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles!

Welcome to another installment of “2022 is the year that the music gods have blessed us”…

Arcade Fire has been a fairly constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember; for years, I’ve been hearing and loving songs from Funeral and The Suburbs in my car, and I nearly got to see them live on their last tour (the concert was on the same day as a school trip I had 😭). So I was so excited to hear that they had another album on the way a few months ago—and now that I’ve listened to it, I love it!

Enjoy this album review!

(note: I will be excluding track 3, “Prelude,” from my review, as it’s only 30 seconds long of vague bonking noises and static.)

WE – ARCADE FIRE ALBUM REVIEW

Track 1: “Age of Anxiety I” – 8.5/10

Right off the bat, I was so impressed by this song! One of my favorite songs on the album, and the perfect opener too. With its steady beat and timely lyricism, it perfectly sets up the landscape of the rest of the album—love it!

Track 2: “Age of Anxiety II (Rabbit Hole)” – 7.5/10

Continuing the momentum from “Age of Anxiety I,” “Rabbit Hole” keeps its steady pace. As long as it is, it manages to keep itself afloat for the full seven minutes and still be consistently listenable throughout. Not as good as I, but still a wonderful continuation.

Track 4: “End of the Empire I-III” – 8/10

“End of the Empire I-III” takes a turn into slower, more introspective territory. Its lulling and waving melodies feel immersive and welcoming, and it demonstrates the extent of Win Butler’s lyricism, the intense introspection and reflection that makes Arcade Fire stand the test of time.

Track 5: “End of the Empire IV (Sagittarius A*)” – 8/10

Most of the songs on WE have at twin of some sort, and I’ve noticed a pattern—they’re never interchangeable, but they’re nevertheless inextricably connected. In the instance of “Sagittarius A*,” it’s a continuation of the slow, measured reflection of the strange mess of the world in the last two years. The lyrics are far more on the nose here (repetition of “I/we/she/etc. unsubscribe[s]), but they’re nevertheless timely. I love the little electronic strains at the end as well.

Track 6: “The Lightning I” – 8.5/10

The two “Lightning” songs were the first singles to come out of WE, and this one reminded me of why I love Arcade Fire so much. So many people, so many instruments, all in exuberant harmony—just the kind of energy that we need in these unpredictable times. Ties into the general theme of the album, from what I can discern—clinging onto hope and togetherness in a time bent on tearing us apart.

Track 7: “The Lightning II” – 8.5/10

It makes sense that the music video for the two “Lightning”s is all in one; unlike the other twin songs, this one is has the smoothest transition from one song to the other. And it continues its contagious, exuberant joy, bringing the album to a hopeful, explosive crescendo.

Track 8: “Unconditional I (Lookout Kid)” – 7/10

This is my least favorite song on the album, but it’s nonetheless sweet, especially considering that Win Butler wrote it for his kid. The lyrics are more than a little on the nose, but they’re lyrics that everybody needs to hear growing up, which is what makes them so lasting. Sweet stuff.

Track 9: “Unconditional II (Race and Religion) (feat. Peter Gabriel)” – 10/10

MORE REGINE CHASSAGNE PLEASE AND THANK YOU

I’ve had this on repeat for a solid week—my favorite song on the album! Régine Chassagne’s vocals have an infectious joy and excitement to them, and combined with the harmonious music and message, it makes for the best song on the whole album. It’s already the highlight of the album, but having PETER GABRIEL, FOR GOD’S SAKES—that makes it even better!

Track 10: “WE” – 7.5/10

A gentle, slow ease out of a fantastic album. Even though Arcade Fire’s strength is in their numbers and varied instruments, sometimes their acoustic pieces are almost just as good. That’s the case of “WE”—not the best song on the album, but a perfect segway out of an adventurous album and a softer comedown from “Race and Religion.”

I averaged out all my ratings from each track, and it came out to a solid 8.2! I feel like that’s an accurate portrayal of my thoughts; WE is, without a doubt, high in the ranks of my favorite albums of 2022 so far—timely, but still rife with the infectious joy that makes me love Arcade Fire as much as I do.

Since this is an album review, consider the entire album to be today’s song.

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

Posted in Music

Everything Was Beautiful – Spiritualized album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Saturday, bibliophiles, and happy world book day as well!! You’d think I’d have a book-related post today, but…nope. No thoughts, only Spiritualized for the next 3-5 business weeks.

Normally, I wait for a few days to a week after an album’s release to review it, but…well, between my listening to it yesterday and my dad playing it the whole way through in the car yesterday evening, I’ve probably listened to it three or four times in its entirety already, so…

Spiritualized has been one of my favorite bands for around two years—even longer, if you count when I first heard “Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space” for the first time and listened to it on repeat to fall asleep on vacation. Their music, if I had to describe it in one word, is all-consuming; J Spaceman has built a stunning career out of making a song into a vast cosmos of sound, making themes of heartbreak, addiction, and new love into the dictionary definition of larger-than-life. That’s what I’ve always loved about his music—his songs never feel like just songs, but experiences.

By the time I’d really gotten into Spiritualized, I’d accepted that I wouldn’t be able to see him live or experience a new album of his; he’d said in several interviews that And Nothing Hurt would likely be his last album. But in late 2021, we were gifted with the best kind of surprise: we would be getting more Spiritualized after all!! Now that it’s here, I can say with certainty that there isn’t a single bad song on this album. It’s probably impossible to re-achieve the genius of Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space or Sweet Heart Sweet Light, but Everything Was Beautiful comes very close, even at just seven songs.

Enjoy this album review!

EVERYTHING WAS BEAUTIFUL – SPIRITUALIZED ALBUM REVIEW

TRACK 1: “Always Together With You” – 10/10

This was the first single to come out of this album, and it singlehandedly provided all of the serotonin that I needed to get through the rest of 2021, so there’s that.

It’s not hard for me to say that this is easily one of Spiritualized’s best songs. Expansive and cosmic, I feel as though I’ve been lifted into the air and through the clouds every time I listen to it. I was texting my family about it when it first came out, and I jokingly called it “‘Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space’ but happy,” and as much of a joke it was, it feels true; “Always Together With You” feels like a more matured, more hopeful version of its predecessor, down to the morse code sounds and J Spaceman’s daughter (😭) saying the album’s title at the very beginning. Absolute masterpiece.

TRACK 2: “Best Thing You Never Had (The D Song)” – 8.5/10

Smoothly transitioning from “Always Together With You,” “Best Thing You Never Had” keeps up the momentum set up by the first track with classic Spiritualized elements—catchy guitars, a backing choir, and what sounds like a good-sized brass section. Just as spacey as ever, it’s the perfect song for rolling the windows down in your car, and it’s sure to cement this album as one of Spiritualized’s best.

TRACK 3: “Let It Bleed (For Iggy)” – 9.5/10

When I saw Spiritualized back at the beginning of the month, this was one of my favorites of the new songs they played. Now that I’m hearing it through my headphones, it’s one of my favorites off the album! Here’s where the momentum sustained by “Best Thing You Never Had” picks up once more, with another sweeping, all-consuming thing of pure beauty.

TRACK 4: “Crazy” (cover of Nikki Lane’s “Out of My Mind”) – 8.5/10

(so apparently this is a cover?? took me a while to find out…I guess because the original has a different title)

“Crazy” is one of my least favorites on the album, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. Even as a cover (I’ve only listened to the original once, so…), it’s indicative of the quiet, genuine tenderness that J Spaceman is capable of amidst all of the heartbreak and darkness that’s prevalent in so many of his other songs. Lovely.

TRACK 5: “The Mainline Song” – 9.5/10

This is another Spiritualized piece that seems more like a journey than a song—all of the train sounds layered in only adds to that effect. With J Spaceman’s airy vocals and rushing instrumentals, it’s another song that seems to physically carry you somewhere else, watching the clouds rushing by. It doesn’t even matter that it’s chiefly instrumental—it’s an unmistakable highlight of the album.

TRACK 6: “The A Song (Laid In Your Arms)” – 9.5/10

Like “Best Thing You Never Had,” “The A Song” is a persistent, powerful march reminiscent of Spiritualized’s harder side. For Spiritualized, longer songs are a common sight, but at over seven minutes long, this song never loses its impact or momentum, delivering guitars and brass that crash against you like waves on the shore. Nothing short of a masterpiece—and another song that was phenomenal live!

TRACK 7: “I’m Coming Home Again” – 10/10

For a lot of Spiritualized albums, the final song is either a sweeping ballad or a mournful, soft ending. “I’m Coming Home Again” is neither of those—and it’s almost more powerful than some examples of both. It’s the longest song on the album at almost 10 minutes long, and like “The A Song,” never loses its momentum all that time. But unlike the former, it achieves its affect more in its consistent feeling of foreboding. It’s a haunting song—I have an oddly specific feeling that it would mesh perfectly in the second-to-last episode of a TV show, in a scene where the main character gets their revenge, walking away from lighting something on fire. From the first notes to the final strains of the choir, “I’m Coming Home Again” is a looming masterpiece, and an unexpected but perfect ending to a near-flawless album.

I averaged out all my ratings for each track, and it came to about a 9.4! Absolutely accurate to how I feel about Everything Was Beautiful—it’s hard to touch some of Spiritualized’s other albums, but this album establishes itself as one of J Spaceman’s masterpieces. It’s the perfect melding of the sound of 90’s Spiritualized with the hope of 10’s Spiritualized, and it makes for an album with a lasting, haunting, and eternally memorable effect. Thank you, J Spaceman, for another religious experience. 💗

“Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.” – Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

Since this is an album review, consider the entire 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 Music

Lucifer on the Sofa – Spoon album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Saturday, everyone!

Sorry that I went M.I.A. for a bit there. I was visiting family in Florida over President’s Day weekend, and I just had zero energy once I got back. But now I’m here, writing a post that I’ve been excited to write for a few weeks!

You know what I think about a lot? The time my old English teacher though my Spoon shirt was a Morrissey shirt 😭

Spoon is one of those bands that have been a consistent presence in my life. I heard their songs on car rides, and car rides turned to concerts, and concerts turned to albums. For me, they’re one of the few bands I know who are better live than listening remotely—they bring such an exuberance and energy onstage, and their talents as musicians is apparent with every song they play.

So I was so excited to hear that they’d be releasing a new album in 2022! Prior to this, I’d never listened to a full album of theirs (although Gimme Fiction has been on my list for quite some time), but listening to Lucifer on the Sofa was such a bright, energizing experience. It’s only February, but this is already on my list of favorite albums of the year. (Though it’ll have some competition when Everything Was Beautiful comes out…am I getting too hasty?)

Let’s begin this review, shall we?

LUCIFER ON THE SOFA – SPOON ALBUM REVIEW

TRACK 1: “Held” (Smog cover) – 8.5/10

Starting an album off with a cover is a bold move, but at this point, Spoon can do no wrong. And this is a fantastic cover—if I didn’t know that it was a cover, I 100% would’ve thought that this was fully their song. I might even like it better than the original! The steady drumbeat and the melody that feels like it rolls over you create an atmosphere that sets up the whole album for instant success. Needless to say, I have not been able to stop listening to this!

(here’s the original by Smog, if you’re interested.)

TRACK 2: “The Hardest Cut” – 8/10

They’re sayin’ you need a little protection,

But following the leader gonna turn you off the religion…

Spoon, “The Hardest Cut”

This was the first single to come out of this album, and it reminded me of why I love Spoon. The guitars are what shine the most—”The Hardest Cut” doesn’t hesitate to dive into Spoon’s heavier side, and the guitars are the main driving force behind it. At the same time, it’s a relentlessly steady and catchy song, making this song proof of Spoon’s versatility.

TRACK 3: “The Devil and Mister Jones” – 8.5/10

For any album, there are some songs that you know will grab you way before you listen to them, just because of how hooking the title is. I don’t know what it is about the name “The Devil and Mister Jones” that caught my eye, but either way, it’s an undoubted highlight of this album. Catchy and bright-sounding, it has a timeless feel to it, like it could have just as easily come out of the 2010’s or even the 2000’s. LOVE it.

TRACK 4: “Wild” – 8.5/10

I was reminded every measure

Of riding trade winds, buried treasure…

Spoon, “Wild”

This one was the second single that was released, and another absolute earworm! The instrumentation is phenomenal, Britt Daniel’s voice stands out in the best way possible, and the beat makes it impossible for you not to nod your head. Instant classic.

TRACK 5: “My Babe” – 7.5/10

“My Babe” was the final single to be released from Lucifer on the Sofa, and although it’s my least favorite of the three, it’s still a perfect head-nodding, shoulder-swaying kind of song. However, there’s something about the lyrics that feels off-kilter. Not so much the message, but the way they sound, if that makes sense? I’m not sure. Not as strong as the others, but that’s a high bar—”My Babe” is still a good one.

TRACK 6: “Feels Alright” – 8/10

Standing here by myself,

A photograph with no correction

From me or anybody else…

Spoon, “Feels Alright”

Here’s another one that feels distinctly timeless. There’s an a quality to it that makes it feel ageless. For all we know, it could be from today, from the 2010’s, the 2000’s…even the future, who knows what Spoon will be doing five or ten years from now? That aside, it’s such a strong song! I especially love the piano/keyboard work on this one.

TRACK 7: “On the Radio” – 8.5/10

(I just realized that the animation for the official audios just zooms in on the album cover’s face…IT’S SO CURSED)

(WHY IS IT LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT)

“On the Radio” distinctly feels like the last few singles pre-Lucifer—something about the key, the fast tempo, the overall tightness of the whole song that makes me remember hearing “No Bullets Spent” for the first time. The guitars feel so full and rich, and the effects layered over them only adds to the effect. Another winner!

TRACK 8: “Astral Jacket” – 8.5/10

“Astral Jacket” is where Lucifer slows down—just in tempo, certainly not in quality. This song, along with “Satellite,” remind me of how well Spoon can convey tenderness through music; there’s an atmosphere around it that feels like a tired hug on a warm night. Simply lovely.

TRACK 9: “Satellite” – 8.5/10

Continuing the soft, tender atmosphere that “Astral Jacket” started, “Satellite” creates a floating-in-space atmosphere that fills up my heart. It reminds me most of “The Delicate Place,” my favorite Spoon song; the melody goes up and down, but it’s consistent in its warmth.

TRACK 10: “Lucifer on the Sofa” – 8/10

And I’m chasing every thought

And I’m walking over water,

Thinking about what I lost…

Spoon, “Lucifer on the Sofa”

For Spoon, my focus is usually the music over the lyrics, but for “Lucifer on the Sofa,” it’s both. I love all the descriptions in this one, from ash on lips to winter skies. There’s a consistency to the music as well—the saxophones are a strange addition, but it works perfectly for the smoky feel of this song. Not my favorite of this album, but a great little closer.

I averaged out the scores for each track, and it came out to a solid 8.3! Feels just right for the album; I haven’t listened to enough full Spoon albums to say where it ranks on the list, but it’s a success regardless. I remember periods of my life in terms of albums, and Lucifer on the Sofa will surely be among the ranks of albums I remember this year by. Can’t wait to see them again this May!

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

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