Tag: lindsey jordan

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 10/1/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

OCTOBER! Crunchy leaves and warm coffee and leather jackets and Halloween. That’s the most wonderful time of the year, if you ask me. And for the occasion, I’ve got a fall-colored graphic, complete with some sparing mentions of autumn and Lisa Germano.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 10/1/23

“The Deal” – Mitski

I went into The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We with my expectations low—as much as I like Mitski, I was prepared for another Laurel Hell that I didn’t necessarily regret listening to, but only came away liking about half of the songs. But I’ve seen consensus among diehard Mitski fans and people like myself, who know a handful of Mitski but nothing expansive—we’re all starting to agree that this album might just be her best work yet.

After several years of turmoil that saw Mitski on the verge of leaving the music industry altogether, The Land is Inhospitable sees her reclaiming a space for herself, while reckoning with the past that led her to silencing herself as she tried to endure the trials of being a musician in this creative climate. The whole album is full of some of her most grand, expansive soundscapes, more haunting and commanding than anything she’s produced in years. It feels like Mitski letting herself go, haunted by the multitude of ghosts and hounds at her back, but unleashing years of feeling and fury. Take this song, my personal favorite of the album (“My Love Mine All Mine” was a close second). As she describes a Robert Johnson-esque deal with the devil “on a midnight walk alone,” we discover that the deal was never to see her soul for fame or talent—it was for someone to take the burden of her soul away from her (“will somebody take this soul?”) The whole song is a harrowing plea for peace, no doubt taken from many sleepless nights. As ever, Mitski’s voice soars to meet every sky-reaching promise, unfolding like an ornate wedding dress with its ribcage-echoing depth and weight. And this song is the exact reason why I feel like The Land is Inhospitable is her most adventurous album yet. The instrumentals are truly mercurial, shifting from simple acoustics to an abrupt, all-consuming cacophony as the chorus kicks in, barely contained. And speaking of barely contained, can we talk about how beautiful the outro is? It’s my favorite kind of barely contained chaos, as though Mitski is scrambling to keep the battering drums and frantic movement under wraps before the song ends, but can’t help but let some of it pour through the cracks. I can’t help but be reminded of 1:53-2:34 of “Via Chicago,” with its moaning guitars disguising Glenn Kotche’s explosive outburst of drums. (It’s 100% worth putting a Wilco concert on your bucket list just to witness that live. Trust me.) And of course, it mirrors the line “your pain is eased/but you’ll never be free.” It always lingers.

Either way, I’m glad that Mitski is starting to heal, and that we have this excellent album to show for it. She deserves more than all the weirdos screaming “MOMMY” at her constantly. The horrific curse of making emotionally vulnerable music your brand, I suppose.

“Born For Loving You” – Big Thief

I’m still newish to Big Thief, but this song delightfully baffles me. I almost thought it was a cover—it seems simultaneously harmonious and out of place next to all of the other Big Thief songs I’ve heard. Somehow, I love that about this song.

“Born For Loving You” feels timeless in its warm simplicity. At its heart, it’s an earnest, folksy love song, plain about its intentions and the smile on its face. But it’s doesn’t bear that kind of earnestness that makes you cringe from the manufactured nature of it—there’s so much about this song that’s genuinely endearing to me with each subsequent listen. Adrianne Lenker frames the premise of the song in a tender collage of vignettes, from “After the first light flickered outta this motel/1991, mama pushin’ like hell/Tangled in blood and vine” to splashes of blissful childhood: “From my first steps, to my first words/To waddlin’ around, lookin’ at birds.” Every time I listen, I can’t help but imagine the fading graininess of old home movies, of giggling, squinty-eyed babies taking their first steps out into the summer grass as their parents follow in their footsteps, arms outstretched. Lenker delivers every line with a straining waver, with the band gently painting soft, acoustic brushstrokes behind her. It’s a song for peering out the car window at a sunset, letting the wind play with your hair as you think about all the things that led you to be here, right here, with the people that you love.

“The Darkest Night of All” – Lisa Germano

I know you’re all sick of me heralding the coming of sad girl fall since August, but since it’s actually fall now, I’ve got an excuse. Nothing says fall like a black-orange color scheme and some good, old fashioned baby doll heads.

After YouTube practically pied me in the face with this song, I couldn’t help but listen. For the first few times, “The Darkest Night Of All” felt like either an opening or a closing track. Turns out that I was halfway right—this song closed out her 1993 debut Happiness (touché), and even without knowing anything else from the album, this song does its job better than any other could. Even though it’s clear from the lyrics that she hasn’t nailed her darkly clever style completely, it’s evidence that Lisa Germano’s skill at crafting a vivid atmosphere was always there. This song couldn’t have been named anything else—it really does feel like watching a starless night from out the window, bleary-eyed and wishing for sleep to come. With its echoing, gauzy synths wrapping their arms around the track, it feels like the cool tucking of a too-thin blanket over your head. You can’t picture anything but sleepless darkness when this song plays. Germano’s younger voice, thin and breathy like tissue paper, can’t help but make me think of Julien Baker—I don’t know if she listened to her, but I can’t get the resemblance out of my head. Paired with Germano’s gentle piano playing and mournful accordions, “The Darkest Night of All” sits in a strange limbo between a lullaby and a dirge, cloaked in nighttime either way. And what a way to close out the album—the fading synths and her final whisper of “the night” like a secret in your ear?

“Easy Thing” – Snail Mail

Nothing like a new(ish) Snail Mail song to make my day. Even if it’s a demo, there’s nothing better.

Lindsey Jordan described “Easy Thing” as “a track that didn’t make the cut, but holds a special place in my heart.” And the more I listen to it, the more it feels like the bridge between her two albums. It’s bathed in a the cool breeze of autumn, lazily meandering around, anchored by Jordan’s plaintively plucked notes on the guitar. The lyrics meander over to the bitter, love-gone-sour malaise of Valentine (“making out’s boring,” “was there really something/or were we just drunk?”), but the delicate, meticulous guitar work reeks of the shining melodies of Lush. You could have placed this somewhere between “Stick” and “Let’s Find an Out” and I wouldn’t have batted an eye. And although I love this song dearly, I can see why it never made the cut; it doesn’t necessarily tread any new musical or lyrical ground that wasn’t already in Valentine—the same lost love, the same reminiscing. I could see why it would have gotten lost somewhere between “Madonna” and “c. et al.” But it’s a song that still deserves to see th light of day, but standing alone was the best choice for it to sprout. Now the only question left is where it’ll fit amongst the other Valentine demos on this EP.

“Come On (Let the Good Times Roll)” – The Jimi Hendrix Experience

Yep. Time for an emotional shower. I didn’t think about the order when I was making the graphic, but this is probably the best possible palate-cleanser for the lethal Mitski-Lisa Germano beatdown. Am I not merciful?

Even though I’m always mad about how stingy the Hendrix estate has been with lending off the rights to his music (every day, I not only wish for a world in which the Doctor Strange movies were actually as weird as they were meant to be, but also for a world where Jim Hendrix was their soundtrack), maybe it’s for the best that the MCU never corrupted this particular rush of late 60’s, pure, classic rock straight to the soul. This one would’ve fit right into one of the Guardians of the Galaxy movies, but again: I’m glad this song isn’t associated with Chris Pratt making some corny “it’s behind me, isn’t it…😳” type of joke after getting into some comical alien shenanigans. (Can you tell that I’m bitter about Marvel? No? Blame Disney. I’m suffering over here.) Either way, this song—and most of Jimi Hendrix’s body of work in general—feels somehow pure, like it came into being with every note in the riff already glitteringly mastered. I’ve used the “Athena bursting forth from the skull of Zeus” metaphor to death in reference to Super Furry Animals, for the most part, but if anyone else is deserving of it, it’s certainly Hendrix. The sound production feels thick enough to stretch my hand through, and each lightning-fast note ripped in the dazzlingly intricate riffs feels like the most intentional thing on Earth, just for a few minutes. It’s a 4:09 stretch of speedy blues that you can’t help closing your eyes and smiling along to. Jimi just has that effect.

BONUS: I meant to put this in last week…oops. Either way, boygenius released a gorgeous animated music video for my favorite track off the record, “Cool About It” (which I talked about back in April). The animations are by Lauren Tsai. Have a watch! (Who else is very normal about the fact that they’re releasing another EP on the 13th??)

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

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

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 7/30/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

I only just found out that today is Kate Bush’s birthday, and sadly, I don’t have any of her music on this week’s batch for the occasion. But it’s just been announced that Mitski is getting ready to play with our emotions again this September, so I guess we’d better buckle up…

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 7/30/23

“I Just Threw Out The Love Of My Dreams” – Weezer

Listen. LISTEN. I didn’t intend to weeze you all without warning, I promise. Blame Snail Mail for this one. Get weez’d.

Weezer (The Blue Album) was one of those random albums that I happened to listen to on a whim sometime during the summer of 2020. And, yes, despite the abundant memes and the general smelly incel vibe of most of the male portion of the fandom, Weezer can write a good song. Key word there is a good song. The Blue Album is basically the same song 10 times over, but it’s a good song. I’m not gonna sit here and act like “Buddy Holly” isn’t one of the catchiest tunes that the 90’s ever conceived of. But it wasn’t enough for me to go deeper into their discography, and everything that Pitchfork/Stereogum posts about Rivers “I won’t rest ’till I drop and the crowd goes YEET” Cuomo and co. hasn’t exactly encouraged me. And yet…Weezer with a woman singing? Such a simple change made me feel like I’d ascended into some whole new dimension. Look. I don’t have a CLUE how this song has had the chokehold that it’s had on me for the past two weeks. Never in my life would I have anticipated enjoying a Weezer song nearly as much as I have with this track. But I’m enjoying it wholeheartedly.

“I Just Threw Out The Love Of My Dreams” (if that isn’t the weeziest Weezer song title to ever weeze) has apparently been making a comeback; I must’ve missed it trending on TikTok last year for whatever reason, but either way, Weezer have been bringing it back for their most recent tour, calling on the likes of Snail Mail and Momma to fill in for the female vocals, originally sung by Rachel Haden. It’s a b-side, originally from a scrapped rock opera (again, exactly the kind of thing you’d expect Rivers Cuomo to do) titled Songs from the Black Hole, that only saw the light of day once they came out with the deluxe edition of Pinkteron, which was partially cobbled together from Black Hole; Haden, shamefully, wasn’t paid for her phenomenal vocals on this song, but given its recent spike in popularity, I would hope that she’s getting the last laugh now. There’s really a special magic to this song: it’s got just the right amount of glimmering, space-tinged power pop to make me smile with every listen. The texture of it really does recall some kind of shiny, retro space opera world, with bright red starships and glittering cities on faraway planets. Rachel Haden has a voice that truly soars—it’s already a feat to keep her range so high for most of the song, but once she reaches the second chorus, her voice really seems to burst like a rocket hitting light speed, all at once sweet and rich—perfect for the tone of this contagiously catchy lament. And of course, it’s that perfect earworm length, just over two and a half minutes long, making it impossible to not listen to it on repeat. (Needless to say, my Apple Music Replay is gonna be a wreck this year…)

“the way things go” – beabadoobee

beabadoobee has always been someone on the edges of my periphery; she seems somewhat adjacent to a good amount of the music I listen to (Soccer Mommy, boygenius, Beach Bunny, etc.), but I’ve only ever heard snippets of her music. They were all good snippets, but none of them fully convinced me to listen to her music. That is, until I came upon this video of her first time performing “the way things go” in its infancy last year, a clip taken from her Instagram live:

You know me. This video was perfect sadgirl bait. But something about the combination of the original key and the hypnotic melody made for a song that latched itself to me in the times that I thought I’d forgotten about it. Plus…okay, her expressions are just adorable. I love her already.

Part of me is still partial to the original key, but seeing the shift to the more mature, healed version that finally saw the light of day about a week and a half ago has been such a treat, even from me, pretty much a beabadoobee virgin. Setting aside the fact that the first beabadoobee song to catch my eye seems to be one of her only breakup songs (ouch), “the way things go” is such an immaculately curated song; even if we hadn’t seen several iterations of it shift over the months, it would still be the delicate slice of melancholy-but-hopeful meticulous craft that it is. Everything about it sounds lush and richly-layered, with Bea Kristi’s original guitar twisting through all manner of other instruments (strings, flutes…maybe even a bit of mandolin?) like vines up an old stone wall. Kristi’s voice is as feather-light as the tutus on the music video’s ballerinas, even more endearing than the candid video; even though the change from “the love you said you had, it never showed” to “sometimes showed” is, on the surface less powerful than the original (the inverse of Will Toledo changing “filling out forms from a working printer” to “busted printer” on “Something Soon”?), it’s more evident of personal healing, and that should always be prioritized over emotional “depth” just because it’s sadder. As Kristi says, “I’m happy now, I ought to let you know.”

(sidenote: does anyone have a good place to start w listening to beabadoobee? I think I’m convinced now…)

“Caroline” – Arlo Parks

I talked a bit about Arlo Parks’ more recent music last week, and that was about when I started dipping my toes into her music. I’m still not sure about albums at this point, given my ridiculously Sisyphean album bucket list, but I had a vague recollection of hearing about this song and “Eugene,” both some of her more popular songs, and both of them names, as you could probably tell. And like “Pegasus (feat. Phoebe Bridgers),” both of them went STRAIGHT to the library playlist. I’ve already made many a memory of straightening shelves to the tune of Parks singing “Caroline, I swear to god I tried/I swear to god I tried.”

“Caroline” has an undeniable rhythm. It’s the perfect kind of mid-tempo song: fast enough to nod your head to, but slow enough that it draws you in like honey. Filming parts of the music video in a swimming pool was the perfect choice; the bright blue of the chlorinated water and its gentle, cool flow match this song perfectly. It steadily ripples along, anchored by its hypnotic, immediately hooking drums and the flitting guitar notes that fade into it. I still hold that Arlo Parks has one of the more unique singing voices that I can think of—it has a strange, mercurial quality of being both high and rich, light and thick. And without a doubt, it’s a voice that has no trouble telling a story. In this case, that story is of watching a couple fighting in public. Parks’ fly-on-the-wall approach to framing “Caroline” makes for no shortage of fleshed-out imagery, from the man’s spilled coffee to the necklace that the woman throws into his face. It’s got all the instrumentation of a catchy, indie pop tune, with just the amount of storytelling I like.

“Amen” – Gruff Rhys

In my on-and-off, two year Super Furry Animals kick, I hadn’t even thought to look into Gruff Rhys’ solo career. That’ll come later for me, of course, but again, as always, my dad came through with two of his newest songs, and even though I don’t know a single thing about the soundtrack that they’re from, I’m 100% hooked.

Taken from the soundtrack of the 2022 movie The Almond and The Seahorse (fun name, for sure), “Amen” would be begging for some kind of movie scene if it wasn’t already on this album. Without the context of hearing the rest of Rhys’ solo career, it’s hard to say exactly where the sonic shift from Super Furry Animals to just him happened; whether or not it’s just more suited to the tone of the movie (which would make sense, given that the inciting incident appears to be the main character having a traumatic brain injury) is up in the air, but either way, there’s a more stripped-down quality to “Amen.” Super Furry Animals, for me, were defined by making wacky, experimental, and purely fun (Welsh) Britpop records, sometimes delving into EDM-adjacent insanity (“No Sympathy”) and longer, emotional tracks (“Run! Christian, Run!”), often on the same album (Rings Around the World, #9 on my top 10 favorite albums). They could do grandeur, they could do silliness, they could do political statements. And even though the weirdness is what usually what endears me to Gruff Rhys, “Amen” presents that grandeur without as much of the weirdness, but with no emotional weight lost along the way. Accompanied by strings and Rhys’ gently rasping voice, the piano is the real star of this song; when the instrumentals almost fade to silence at 0:43, only to give way to Rhys’ plea of “I can give you more” and his steady, descending piano chords, I can’t help but feel as though something monumental is shifting around me. I feel like somebody’s pulling at the folds of a dress I’m wearing, and those piano chords turn it from a simple thing into a flowing, layered wedding gown. It’s a song that takes you by the hand and spins you around, and to get that feeling with every listen is such a joy. We really need to appreciate the genius of Gruff Rhys more.

“Bug Like an Angel” – Mitski

As if this year wasn’t already rife with exciting new music, we’ve got new music due from Mitski in September, only a year and a half after her last album! Granted, I feel like her last album (Laurel Hell) was hit or miss, but I’ve gotten to the point where I can expect for most of her music to be compelling, at the very least. And with a title like The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, at least something’s bound to be compelling about this new record.

“Bug Like an Angel” certainly is, in its own, quietly captivating way. This title, like the album title (there’s a fair amount of interesting titles on this record…”Buffalo Replaced” is certainly memorable), immediately grabbed me, and from there, Mitski sucked me into another hypnotically haunting song. Most of the song is just her accompanied by an acoustic guitar and the same audio effects that she seems to have been using for most of her careers, but it’s a tricksy. Just as you turn the volume up to hear it better, she hits you with the thrumming, cavernous hum of her voice against a 17-member gospel choir. And as many have noted, “Bug Like an Angel” really does have a hymnal feel, with or without of Mitski’s choral garb in the music video, as well as the track’s final refrain: “I try to remember/The wrath of the devil/Was also given him by God.” There’s no real chorus, but after each verse ends, the choir takes up a chant of the verse’s final (or close to final) words in repetition, voices abruptly rising in volume as Mitski commands them. She has always been commanding—with her combination of lyricism and the power in her voice, it’s hard not to take up the chant of one of her songs or another. So here I am, knowing that I only really liked half of Laurel Hell, returning to the gut feeling of knowing that Mitski has at least a few more gorgeous tracks up her sleeve. I’m certainly saving this one for safekeeping.

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

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

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 4/16/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

Casually just started coughing up a lung for a week, but at least the sun’s out for the first time in about 3 months, so a win is a win in my book. It would be nice to be able to sleep without waking myself up from said coughing, but maybe if I just listen to the record another time through…hmm…

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 4/16/23

“Hammer Horror” – Kate Bush

Oh, the beauty of unflattering YouTube thumbnails.

I always feel guilty for not liking Kate Bush as much. She’s clearly been such a groundbreaking artistic genius for most (if not all) of her career, and she’s an undeniably incredible storyteller as well. But music taste is music taste, and everybody’s got a different one.

I used to think that Kate Bush was generally just hit or miss for me, but as I’ve started to listen to more of her work, I think the root of it is that I’m just more into earlier Kate Bush. I haven’t pinned down a rhyme or reason, really—I haven’t listened to The Kick Inside or Lionheart yet—but they’re really just so fun. There’s an infectious, early-70’s-inspired undercurrent that runs through all of them, combined with high drama that only a 19-year-old Kate Bush could produce. Take “Hammer Horror,” which combines an operatic, orchestral element in the first 30 or so seconds, but slips into a Hunky Dory-like groove, punctuated by lightning strikes of bright guitar—man, I miss how guitars sounded in the 70’s. It’s pure theatre—and even though I’ve never claimed to be a theatre kid, there’s something about the way that she leans fully into all of the clawing-at-the-camera drama that makes it all the more fun to listen to…if you just forget the music videos of that whole period. (*coughcough “Them Heavy People” coughcoughcough*)

*cough*

can somebody pass the Dayquil? seems I’ve got some—*C O U G H*

“Satanist” – boygenius

Worry not: the Boygenius Breakdown is far from over. I’ll spare you from the rest of it after this week for the sake of adhering to my self-imposed color schemes, but behind the facade, I’m still curled up in the fetal position listening to “We’re In Love.”

Penned by Julien Baker and sectioned off for each of the powerhouse members of boygenius to shine, “Satanist” was an instant hit for me from the record after the singles had been released. Backed by steady guitars, this song stands as a fun, cheeky dare about pushing the limits friendship—”will you be a Satanist with me?/Mortgage off your soul to buy your dream/Vacation home in Florida.” It all feels like a bit of tongue-in-cheek fun, but with boygenius’ strong connection and shared friendship, there’s an intangible, genuine feel to it, as if the song could’ve stemmed from a genuine question. (Again: “Were In Love” feels like its lyrical twin, in that sense. Lots of callbacks and intertwining on this album.) But at its culmination, when Phoebe Bridgers’ sharp-edged scream fades into a hazy, sunset background, the music suddenly sinks underwater, all three of their voices seeming to fade under the waves in a haunting, enchanting conclusion. I can almost imagine that, with the image of the record, that the end of this song is their hands reaching up from the ocean—”you hang on/until it drags you under.”

“Amoeba” – Clairo

“[Clairo’s] a lebsian” was an easy sell from my brother’s girlfriend for this song before I could actually hear it playing, but it was a worthwhile sell beyond that. Most of what I know of Clairo comes from snippets of some of her viral songs and Lindsey Jordan (a.k.a. Snail Mail) making the crowd sing “happy birthday” to her over FaceTime during one of her shows, but I’m glad that I’ve been exposed to this song. It flows effortlessly, easily: never does it feel the need to elevate itself or explode entirely, and its gentle existence is what continues to endear me. The vocals scream 2010’s, but some of the instrumentals feel like they traveled in a time capsule from the 70’s—quiet as they are, the funky keyboard licks and bassline make me sway in my seat every time. Everything in this song is understated, but that’s its hidden power—if everything is quiet, no part can overpower another, making for a seemingly perfect melding of each element. I don’t know how much of that is Claire Cottrill and how much is Jack Antonoff (who my feeling are still divided on—he produced the betrayal that was MASSEDUCTION and then the masterpiece that was Daddy’s Home right after…?), but whatever the case, it’s a lovely, gentle pop song.

“Worrywort” – Radiohead

This song might as well be an endangered species. A hopeful Radiohead song? I almost don’t believe it…

I still have plenty of Radiohead’s discography left to trudge through, even after 4 years of them being second only to David Bowie for me, but the joy of that is that, for now, there’s always something new to discover. I’m just hoping that it’ll stay that way for longer—every cell in me is hoping that A Moon-Shaped Pool was their last project, but…hurgh, that’s a story for another day. Thom Yorke and Stanley Donwood’s Fear Stalks the Land!: A Commonplace Book, a collection of lyrics, poetry, and art from the Kid A/Amnesiac era turned me onto this one, snugly tucked away on Knives Out – EP. Amidst…well, everything else that came from that period—a mass airing-out of early 2000’s paranoia and fear—”Worrywort” feels like the only light of hope that was produced at that time in Yorke’s life. Aside from how much I love the spelling of “Worrywort,” like it’s some sort of medicinal plant, there are so many delicate parts to this song, much like the tiny fibers inside of a leaf. All of the synths layered on top of each other feel like a visual representation of if you hooked up guitar pedals to plants and heard what tiny, thin sounds they made while photosynthesizing or spreading their roots. With that making up all of the instrumentations, Thom Yorke’s plaintive murmur stays shadowy, only resorting to his signature keening in tiny parts of the background. And as I said before, it’s one of the only Radiohead songs that I can think of that seems, at least on the surface, to feel lyrically optimistic (no pun intended); “There’s no use dwelling on/What might have been/Just think of all the fun/You could be having.” What? Who are you, and what have you done with Thom Yorke? Not that I’m complaining. Glad he was at least fleetingly cheery for a brief moment sometime in 2001.

Against the backdrop of…well, everything else that Radiohead has put out there, lyrics like these almost feel like a ruse, like there’s some sly, cynical commentary hidden in there. But there really doesn’t seem to be—if anything, it feels like Yorke confronting his own demons, a battle between the voice of depression and the reassurance that he’s trying to bring to the surface. But either way, it’s strangely comforting—there’s something of a beautiful mantra in the song’s outro: a repetition of “it’s such a beautiful day.” Sure is.

“Bath County” – Wednesday

Nothing heals the soul quite like an excess of crunchy guitars.

Getting through my album list is proving to be a Herculean (but still enriching) task, so who knows if or when I’ll end up listening to Wednesday’s new album, Rat Saw God, but I’ve heard it’s been getting good reviews? Pitchfork, like Rotten Tomatoes, is always something I take with a grain of salt (JUSTICE FOR DADDY’S HOME), but an 8.8 from them is still pretty impressive. Laced with urban legends, Southern heat, and abandoned houses, the atmosphere of “Bath County” shines through, pioneered by Karly Hartzman’s mercurial voice—capable of being all at once smooth and soothing, but cracking and abrasive at other times. The guitars are an extension, screaming when the time is right (and even when it isn’t), making the whole song feel like watching a bonfire tower into the sky. I’ve seen Wednesday be compared to everything from grunge (makes sense) to shoegaze (…nah, I don’t see it), but either way, from my limited experience with the band, they’re very 90’s—but still very them.

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

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

Posted in Music

Valentine – Snail Mail album review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles! Probably just gonna dispose of the “this isn’t a bookish post, but screw it, I’m still gonna use the bibliophile greeting” joke at this point. It won’t be missed.

Those of you who’ve followed this blog for a while know how much Snail Mail means to me. Her music soundtracked the strange transition from middle to high school, filled with raw, genuine emotion and unforgettable guitar riffs. Especially during the summer of 2018, her music meant so much to me. I even got to meet Lindsey Jordan at a show that year; she was such a sweet human being, and she even gave me her guitar pick at the end of the show! She’s one of the reasons why I play electric guitar now.

Fast forward to the past few years. We hadn’t gotten anything besides a cover single since 2019, and from the jokes she made at the last show about her manager overbooking her on the last tour, I started to get worried. I distinctly remember several conversations with my mom that ended with “well, hopefully she’ll feel better soon, and then she’ll make an album about it.”

And, surprise, surprise, an album she made! Valentine made me remember all over again how much I love Snail Mail while marking a natural evolution into a newer sound.

So let’s begin this review, shall we?

Snail Mail: Valentine Album Review | Pitchfork

VALENTINE – SNAIL MAIL (album review)

TRACK 1: “Valentine” – 9/10

Getting this unexpected news on a cold September morning instantly brightened my day. It was what made me remember how much I loved Snail Mail. Even though Jordan’s voice has shifted to a deeper, raspier tone, this could have easily come off of Lush, with its soaring guitars and angsty declarations. And yet, it provides the perfect, most natural bridge from Lush to Valentine. It was the perfect first single, and it’s the perfect album opener.

TRACK 2: “Ben Franklin” – 8.5/10

Knowing that “Ben Franklin” got its name from the “presidential-type beat” memes adds a whole new layer to the song. It’s a good layer, for sure. Brings back memories of the night before taking my APUSH exam.

After the wondrous familiarity and “Snail Mail’s back!”ness of “Valentine,” “Ben Franklin” provided an organic segue into a newer, synth-dominated sound. Sultry and smooth, it’s the perfect blend of guitar, piano, and synth, all set to an instantly catchy beat. It’s a new direction for a musician who normally dominates her sound with guitars, but it feels just as genuine as anything from Lush or Habit.

TRACK 3: “Headlock” – 7.5/10

Though “Headlock” doesn’t wow me as much as some of the other tracks on this album, it’s solid proof that after all this time, Lindsey Jordan is just as much herself as she was in 2018. The evolution of Jordan’s voice shines in this song; her voice is just as raw and beautiful, but now it’s deeper, fuller. Combined with catchy guitars and pianos, this makes for a solid Snail Mail song.

TRACK 4: “Light Blue” – 9/10

Wanna wake up early every day

Just to be awake in the same world as you…

Snail Mail, “Light Blue”

In an album consisting almost entirely of songs about the ugly side of romance and breaking up, “Light Blue” provides a single spark of hope and pure love. Acoustic guitars and soft strings make for a heartwarming declaration of love, enough to make even the coldest heart melt. Leave it to Snail Mail to deliver genuine emotion in all its forms.

TRACK 5: “Forever (Sailing)” – 8.5/10

Whatever you decide,

I’ll chase you from the city to the sky,

And lose myself for you a thousand times…

Snail Mail, “Forever (Sailing)”

Like “Ben Franklin,” “Forever (Sailing)” contains so few of the guitars that became a hallmark of Snail Mail’s music. But even without them, it provides a glimpse into the evolution of her sound, making a steady, catchy beat out of a story of a relationship doomed to fall apart.

TRACK 6: “Madonna” – 9.5/10

Without question, my favorite of the three pre-released singles, and one of my favorite tracks of the album! The thrumming bass-line introduces a one-of-a-kind song, cleverly telling a story while seamlessly transitioning between heavy guitars and smoother, synth-driven slow points. I truly adore this song, everything about it just makes me so happy that Lindsey Jordan is back to making music?

(Also, the bass-line immediately made me think of this song…if I knew how, I’d try and make a mashup…)

TRACK 7: “c. et. al.” – 9.5/10

I went into this album hoping that I’d find the song that Snail Mail played live at the show I went to in 2019, one that she said “wouldn’t be out for a while.” After a few listens (the key change threw me off the trail), I found the famed “Baby Blue” song!

And it’s just as beautiful and raw as it was when I saw it love. Like with Lush, it segways into the sadder, more hopeless side of Snail Mail’s discography, providing a worthy companion to songs like “Deep Sea” and “Anytime.” The acoustic guitar accents Jordan’s voice perfectly, making for the perfect recipe for tugging at my heartstrings.

TRACK 8: “Glory” – 10/10

You owe me,

You own me,

Couldn’t even look at you straight on,

Shining in your glory…”

Snail Mail, “Glory”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Without a doubt, my FAVORITE song on the whole album. Everything about this song makes me so giddy, and it’s so wonderfully Snail Mail…GAH. The driving beat that ticks along in the chorus, Jordan’s soaring voice and clever lyrics, and the strong guitar throughout. Everything, down to the way that Jordan’s voice rings out on the final “glory,” makes for a perfect song. And can we appreciate the subtle “you owe me/you own me” turn of phrase? Golden.

TRACK 9: “Automate” – 8/10

I wouldn’t say this one quite matches how good the rest of the album is, but that in no way means it’s a bad song. At this point, the concept of a bad Snail Mail song is about as likely as the sun not rising tomorrow.

Oddly, my first thought upon hearing the intro was “SPOON.” It particularly reminded me of something like “The Beast and Dragon, Adored” or “The Way We Get By.” I don’t even know if Spoon is an influence of hers, but that’s what immediately came to mind. Either way, “Automate” is a song where you can almost see the beat pushing forward in front of your eyes. Compared to the rest of the album, there’s something that’s missing from it that I can’t place, but it still holds up in the grand scheme of it. Plus, guitars.

TRACK 10: “Mia” – 9/10

Mia, don’t cry,

I love you forever,

But I’ve gotta grow up now

No, I can’t keep holding on to you anymore,

Mia, I’m still yours…

Snail Mail, “Mia”

“Mia, don’t cry…” no, I’m crying. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

Sad cat meme

Like “Anytime,” “Mia” serves as the perfect melancholy closer for a near-perfect album. The solitude of Jordan’s voice, an acoustic guitar, and a string section brings out the somber tone of the song, making the lost love within it all the more heartbreaking. It’s hard to surpass “Anytime,” but I believe that “Mia” barely does just that.

Shoot, now I’m getting all sad…lemme just go back to “Glory” for a minute…

Snail Mail shares new track "Madonna" - 91.9 WFPK Independent Louisville

I averaged out all my ratings for each track, and it came out to an 8.9, which I’ll round up to a 9. Valentine, though rife with stories of love gone wrong, lifted my spirits and restored my hope in Snail Mail. There’s nothing that Lindsey Jordan can’t do, both as a songwriter and a musician, and this album is a beautiful, emotional testament to the fact. I’m so excited to see her live again in April!

Since this is an album review, consider this 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

My 5 Favorite Songs of 2018 (so far)

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Hi, everyone! I hope you’re all having a good Monday! (Well, as good as a Monday can get. Hopefully that’s better than my standards for Mondays.)

Let me just start off by saying that boy, this has been a pretty fantastic year for music.

I’ve already reviewed two albums that came out this year (See Twin Fantasy Re-Release and Lush), but now, there’s even more awesomeness out there to listen to! Also, I did end up seeing BOTH of the artists whose albums I’ve reviewed this year (Snail Mail and Car Seat Headrest. Best nights of my life. I met Lindsey Jordan, who was incredibly sweet, and Will Toledo said that we were the best crowd he’d seen on this tour 😭), which has further increased my appreciation for those bands. Some of my opinions have stayed the same, but others have grown on me since I first listened to them. But I’ll get to that later; here are my five favorite songs so far!

 

1. “Bodys”, Car Seat Headrest 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXTDTQINc20

Nobody can match Will’s moves. Really.

 

My original rating for this song was about a 7/10. But it has grown on my a significant amount, not only from increased listening, but from this performance as well. That, and the fact that I found out that the “need-to-know-basis” thing at the end was Andrew Katz. Hysterical. 

This is my go to feel good song, one that you can bop to no matter what mood you’re in. And I won’t deny that when Car Seat Headrest played this when I saw them, I danced so much that I feared that my new glasses would fall right of my nose and plummet from the balcony. I sang myself hoarse, too. But it was totally, 100% worth it. ❤

 

2. “Heat Wave”, Snail Mail 

After watching this video, there’s basically no need for an explanation. 10/10. Five stars. ALWAYS YES. Also, this was the first song that they played when I saw them, and THEY ABSOLUTELY NAILED IT. I WAS SO HAPPY!!!

 

3. “Everybody Thinks They Know (But No One Really Knows)”, Naked Giants

(The video’s just as weird and fun as the song. Trust me.)

I first got introduced to Naked Giants through Car Seat Headrest. They opened about an hour before CSH, and they were INSANELY TALENTED. Spectacular job.

We bought a few of their songs a few weeks after that performance, and this is the one I fell in love with the most. The perfect balance between light, dancey pop and alt-rock, that isn’t so cringey that you immediately switch the station. (Also, I’ll admit to listening to it on repeat in the first week of high school to remind myself that the other freshmen were just as confused as I was.)

 

4. “No Going Back”, Yuno

(Cute little video as well. Simple, but somehow perfect for the song.)

I first heard this song through Sirius XMU, and even though the DJ made a terrible pun about the artist in question, I couldn’t get the song out of my head. Kind of like #3, where it struck the perfect balance between pop and rock. A bit like the child of Tame Impala and…something I can’t quite place. Either way, such a fantastic little song. 🙂

 

5. “Valley of the Dolls”, Santigold 

I swear, Santigold has become the ultimate “blast-this-song-out-the-car-window-at-full-volume” artist. No matter what, her music has the uncanny ability to make you dance, no matter what mood you’re in. (Or, at the very least, nod your head or tap your foot.) “Valley of the Dolls” was no exception. Out of I Don’t Want: The Gold Fire Sessions, this was my favorite. The perfect balance, the goldilocks. Also, it just brings back this funny memory of my family talking about a completely different, really depressing album (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, if you’re dying to know 👌), and this happened to be playing in the background.

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Well, I hope I exposed you to some new music through this post! Enjoy the rest of your day, and stay tuned for the next BRT tomorrow!

Posted in Music

Lush Album Review

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

I don’t think I’ve mentioned my new obsession with Snail Mail.

 

I initially got into them in April, when I saw an article about them on Pitchfork. After listening to Habit on iTunes, I decided to buy it (along with “Pristine”). And I LOVED it. Snail Mail has now earned their place in my top three favorite bands: in no particular order, David Bowie, Car Seat Headrest, and SNAIL MAIL.

Slowly, more songs were pre-released for Lush, and I got more and more excited. Two days ago, it finally came out.

I’m going to do what I’ve done for my other two album reviews (Masseduction and Twin Fantasy): my thoughts for each track, then my overall thoughts afterwards. Enjoy the review!

 

TRACK 1: “Intro”: 8.5/10

The first track of the album feels like a dream; a strange fantasy mixed with nighttime worries that keep you staring at your ceiling. It also provides a little foreshadowing for the last song. “Intro” is something of a smooth transition from the fuzzy, angsty musings of Habit to the raw lyrics of Lush. It’s only a little over one minute long, but I love it!

 

TRACK 2: “Pristine”: 9/10

“It just feels like the same party every weekend, doesn’t it?”

 

This was the first song that was pre-released off of the album, and the one that got me initially excited for Lush. It’s a song full of musings, longing, and unanswered questions. “Don’t you like me for me?” On some level, I feel like “Pristine” could speak to all of us. We make friends, we feel loved, but deep down, there’s that possibility that haunts us: are we really loved? So thank you, Lindsey. This is beautiful.

 

TRACK 3: “Speaking Terms”: 7/10

This song wasn’t my favorite on the album, but it still has that raw, melancholy quality. It almost feels a little restrained as far as the music goes, but if it were a little harder or louder, I might have liked it more.

Dang, I don’t think I ever would have imagined myself saying that.

 

TRACK 4: “Heat Wave”: 10/10

This. Is. The. Best. Video.

“Heat Wave” is, without a doubt, my favorite song on this album. Lindsey Jordan’s voice brings me so much joy, the guitar is spectacular, and plus, it’s the perfect song to blare out of the car with the windows down. (My mom and I did this once. It was REALLY fun.) Unlike “Speaking Terms”, this song feels like Lindsey Jordan truly poured her heart and soul into everything, and I enjoyed it immensely.

 

TRACK 5: “Stick”: 9/10

”Stick” was originally the final song off of Habit, a melancholy, heartfelt song. On Lush, it’s taken to the next level with the volume turned up all the way. We now have similar guitar to ”Heat Wave” and drums, making it more emotional and resonant. Needless to say, I loved Habit “Stick”, but Lush ”Stick” is truly memorable.

 

TRACK 6: “Let’s Find an Out”: 8/10

This was the last of the pre-releases for Lush. At first, I wasn’t really blown away, but it slowly grew on me. Like “Intro”, it’s a very dreamlike song, filled with longing. For some reason, it always brings to mind very peaceful images; people lying down in a field, dandelion seeds blowing in the wind, meadows, etc. Yellow flowers, too.

654915170cb2c3818664b4d1343a939745ec9d1f_hq.gif

Why not?

 

TRACK 7: “Golden Dream”: 7/10

I have similar feelings about “Golden Dream” and “Speaking Terms” (see track three). Though I like how catchy it is while still having depth and emotion, it still didn’t blow it out of the water for me. I liked the last minute or so a lot, though.

 

TRACK 8: “Full Control”: 8.5/10

If you listen to this album back to back, it would be a little tricky to distinguish this song from its predecessor, “Golden Dream”. But once the chorus arrives, I assure you, the two are now two different songs. It’s like Lindsey Jordan took “Golden Dream”, pumped in more emotion, awesome guitar, and resonant, beautiful vocals. “Full Control” is a bit like the baby of “Golden Dream” and “Pristine”, and it’s one of my favorites on the album.

 

TRACK 9: “Deep Sea”: 8.5/10

At this point, the album begins its transition into a beautiful finale, bringing out the best, somber qualities from some of the material off of Habit. This song radiates images of darkness, but not necessarily negative ones. Starry skies, a descent to the bottom of the ocean, and a mind on the brink of sleep come to mind for me. This is, without a doubt, some of Lindsey Jordan’s best work.

giphy.gif

 

TRACK 10: “Anytime”: 9.5/10

Out of the songs that weren’t pre-released, this has to be my favorite song on the album. If I include the pre-released songs, this is a close second to “Heat Wave”. This is what we’ve all been waiting for, hinted at by “Intro” and mimicked by “Deep Sea”. Like “Pristine”, it’s a song of raising questions, longing. The absence of almost all other instruments give it a more emotional quality, as though it was recorded in the dark, in a moment of intense emotion and secrecy. Beautiful finish to a beautiful album. Encore.

“They don’t love you, do they?”

 

Alright, I’ve averaged out all of my ratings for each song, and it’s a solid 8.5! That’s pretty great, in my book. Lush was, unfortunately one of those instances where they released some of the best songs first and left the others until last, but despite that, I loved this album overall. It’s so crazy how Lindsey Jordan just graduated HIGH SCHOOL, and released Lush soon after. So, in conclusion, bravo, Lindsey! Thank you for a remarkable first full-length album. 😊