Someone You Can Build a Nest In – The Bookish Mutant

Sunday Songs: 8/17/25

Posted on August 17, 2025 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

This week: this semblance of a color scheme is hanging on for dear life, but I needed to talk about Biophilia IMMEDIATELY you must understand…

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 8/17/25

“Virus” – Björk

Another Björk album down! I was highly anticipating listening to Biophilia from the sheer conceptual layers of it; though the original app is now defunct, it still exists as a glittering piece of music and science education, reuniting our understanding of the sciences with the emotion that was always inherent to it. Whether it’s the structure of our genes (“Hollow”) to the phases of the moon (“Moon”), the ability Björk has to weave personal narratives of the rocky parts of healing with the natural processes of the world never ceases to astound me. Admittedly, Biophilia took me another listen around to fully get with it, but that’s mostly because being stuffy and lethargic from a nasty cold whilst the Amen break comes hurtling at you at 90 mph isn’t ideal. The artistry of…well, every single music video of the album never ceases to astound me. It would be easy for the concept to supersede the actual contents of Biophilia, but Björk never fails to pull the rug out from under me every single time. GOD.

“Virus” was one of the most delightful tracks from the album, so gentle, yet carrying a sinister undertone. Wreathed in tinkling chimes and gameleste, it uses a virus as a metaphor for a parasitic, one-sided relationship: “Like a virus needs a body/As soft tissue feeds on blood/Someday I’ll find you.” The virus motif sings sweetly, with Björk’s vocals as delicate and crystalline (no pun intended) as the icy instrumentals surrounding her, reminiscent of Vespertine. It makes itself indispensable (“Like a flame that seeks explosives/Like gunpowder needs a war”) as it sucks the life from its host, but never betrays its true intentions. Everything is hidden under the sweetness—as things tend to be in parasitic, codependent relationships, if we’re taking the more literal route with it. Even when she takes on the persona of a virus slowly killing a host, Björk’s vocals have never sounded more emotive and warm, only getting richer with age, something that time has proven since 2011. Though she uses that same voice to portray much more genuine and non-parasitic feelings throughout Biophilia, the beauty of her voice never ceases to entrance me, no matter the narrative delivery and what it’s hiding—which is exactly the point. It’s intoxicatingly sinister.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Someone You Can Build a Nest In – John Wiswell – “Like a mushroom on a tree trunk/As the protein transmutates/I knock on your skin/And I am in…”

“Bus Back to Richmond” – Lucy Dacus

Nearly five months after Forever Is a Feeling came out (and about a month after Lucy Dacus got a license to start marrying people onstage…what a queen), I’ve cooled down slightly from the initial disappointment, even if only a few degrees. I still hold that it’s her weakest and most commercial album, but at the end of the day, it’s a Lucy Dacus album, and knock on wood, I’ve never encountered a bad Lucy Dacus album. I’ve warmed up much more to “Bullseye,” but most of the other tracks I wasn’t a fan of on the first listen have remained the same for me.

But not long ago, Dacus released two extra tracks that were meant for Forever Is a Feeling but were ultimately cut from the album. REJOICE!! She said that “Bus Back to Richmond” didn’t fit with the rest of the album, but to me, replace some of the weaker tracks with this one, and the album would’ve been more memorable. Though it falls instrumentally into the more introspective, acoustic side of her discography, “Bus Back to Richmond” is a soft, wintry ramble through missed opportunities and sparkling promises of the future. Dacus’ poetically observational lyrics shine in this one, from her descriptions of the “watercolor fireworks” bursting on New Year’s Eve and “eight of us left to the floor and the bed/and the futon that sunk in the middle.” In Christmas light-dappled vignettes, she paints with startling tenderness the coalescing of a future romance, the moments that slowly merged together to form something gleaming in the not-too-distant distance. Even in the heat of August, it feels like a woolen blanket wrapped around you as you stare at the embers of a crackling fire—the perfect winter song for summer.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Whiteout – anthology – intertwining love stories that all converge in a record-breaking blizzard.

“Rabbit Run” – IDLES

New music from IDLES is always a welcome thing, but granted, it was quite disappointing that it was from the soundtrack for, of all things, Caught Stealing. I saw the trailer before seeing Superman (which was as wonderful as everybody has been saying it is. HOPE IS PUNK ROCK! I think Superman would love IDLES), and it basically just looked like a vague “punk rock” pastiche involving a slightly terrifying looking Matt Smith and a vague plot involving Austin Butler battling a bunch of ethnic stereotypes for…uh, reasons, I guess. Regrettably, the punk aesthetic fits with IDLES’ sound, and I hate to see them involved with something that looks so downright stupid, but…they do kind of fit the vibe.

“Rabbit Run” is one of four songs that will eventually appear on the soundtrack of Caught Stealing. Though it doesn’t seem to fall into the Arcane curse of “movie/TV soundtrack songs whose lyrics blatantly regurgitate whatever plot points they’re paired with,” it still feels restrained for IDLES; despite how cagey the lyrics are, it feels relatively free-flowing until the chorus kicks in. But the layers of Nigel Godrich-sounding production give it the perfect middle ground between slick and gritty, as do Joe Talbot’s vocals. The lyrics are certainly weaker than the typical IDLES far (“Beat you slow like your padre/Got you running like a jailbreak”), but when “Rabbit Run” hits the spot, it feels like the perfect score for high-octane chase scene, and a worthy display of Talbot’s vocal range.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Fortuna – Kristyn Merbeth – “Make way for collateral damage when I’m bored/Pick the scab on the arm of the beast til it’s ravaged when I’m bored/Oh so many things to do or not do when I’m bored…”

“Third Uncle” – Brian Eno

Today on “Madeline won’t shut the fuck up about Brian Eno,” we’re going back to the glammier days of the early ’70s. But in the case of this song, “glammier” feels like a misnomer, even though it’s placed both directly in the heyday of glam rock and Eno’s own heyday of his brand of glam rock. If it’s glam, it’s the zenith of uptight glam—it has the texture of touching guitar strings that are one wrong move away from snapping in half. It’s been wound up so severely that for all of nearly five minutes, it remains in the liminal space milliseconds before the tension breaks. With a thrumming bassline from Brian Turrington being the most freeform part of the song, every other part of “Third Uncle” is the music equivalent of squishing as many objects as possible into a box that will barely fit all of them—everything’s under the lid, but the seams are bulging. In the right mood, it’s energizing, and in the wrong mood, it’s borderline anxiety-inducing. To me, though, that’s proof that Eno’s rock experiment worked exactly as he calculated it: it’s an exercise in tension without release, only hints of freedom once the guitar swerves in one direction or the other. Even Eno’s nonsensical lyrics—a laundry list of items, some of which are burned—are uttered with the urgency of someone passing a secret code along through a burner phone.

Through this song, it’s easy to see just how much Eno’s influence spread. We mostly hear of Eno’s pioneering influence in the fields of glam rock, post-punk, and ambient music, but “Third Uncle” practically had a shockwave effect when it came to the early goth bands of the ’80s, starting in earnest after Bauhaus covered the track in 1982. It feels looser and less claustrophobic than the original, but it contains all of the trademark roughness around the edges carried over from Eno and into the grimier catacombs of what had just become goth. They achieve a balance of being hurriedly frantic (weirdly, I can hear the urgency of “It’s The End of the World As We Know It [And I Feel Fine]” in Peter Murphy’s vocal delivery) and yet mistier than looser than their forefather (or fore-uncle?), resulting in a rare cover that reinterprets the original way that somehow feels true to its original spirit.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

The People Who Report More Stress – Alejandro Varela – a series of interconnected stories who are as tightly-wound as the instrumentals of this song.

“mangetout” – Wet Leg

“mangetout” starts at about 3:59 in this video, but the whole Tiny Desk Concert is worth a watch!

I’m late to writing about moisturizer in whole by about a month; for me, it’s not making my hypothetical 2025 best-of list, but god, it’s such a fun album! Wet Leg have gotten even more energetic with their sound, never quite pushing the boundaries of their previous musical landscape outwards all the way, but introducing enough novelty to it that it feels fresh. It’s a perfect summer album with its glistening production and shouted lyrics. And honestly, anyone who shoves Oasis out of the #1 spot on the charts has an immediate seal of approval from me. Somebody had to humble those clowns.

Even though I’d already had a preview of “mangetout” from their Tiny Desk Concert, released days before moisturizer came out, for me, it represents the melding of where Wet Leg once was and where they are today. The lyrics could’ve come straight out of their self-titled debut, and though, admittedly, they’ve written this song in some variation at least four times, they always manage to keep it fun, whether it’s with the gleefully shouted end of the song that snaps away just before devolving into chaos, or the blatantly obvious but still hilariously random inclusive of the name “Trevor” just to rhyme with “clever.” (It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.) Of course, I know maybe…ten words tops in French, so I fully just thought they’d mashed together “man get out” into a single word, but as one of the comments says on this Tiny Desk, “there was always going to be someone to be first on the moon, and there was always going to be someone to be first to realize that the French word for sugar peas was spelled ‘man, get out.'” If anyone was to be trusted to deliver this knowledge accordingly, it’s Wet Leg.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Not My Problem – Ciara Smyth – “You think I’m pretty cruel/You say I scare you?/I know, most people do/This is the real world, honey…”

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!

Books

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈The Bookish Mutant’s Books for Pride Month (2025 Edition)🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

Posted on June 2, 2025June 6, 2025 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

Here in the U.S., June is Pride Month! I usually start off these posts with something about how the world is slowly getting kinder to queer people, but that, as always, the shadows of homophobia and transphobia loom large. Well…Christ, it sure is looming larger than ever. Misinformed voters have decided that they’re perfectly content to return us to an administration that has already required passports to revert to the carrier’s assigned gender at birth and has been emboldened to toy with the idea of repealing the right to same-sex marriage. Of course, here I am sitting on my comfy couch in my comfy blue state of Colorado that thankfully has a) a gay governor (shoutout to Jared Polis), and b) enshrined the right to same-sex marriage in the constitution, but that doesn’t mean that my heart doesn’t constantly ache. All of us in the queer community are deeply interconnected. What hurts one of us hurts all of us.

Book banning across the country has disproportionately targeted queer books, deeming the presence of such subjects in children’s, middle grade, and YA literature as pornography and grooming. And god forbid that a drag queen commits the incredibly sexual and predatory act of…[checks notes] reading picture books to kids at libraries. Republicans have their priorities twisted. That’s old, old news by now. Books and libraries were never meant to be war zones, but fascists have made it their mission, then and now, to declare the right to information and new ideas as the most dangerous threat to their power. This goes for books both queer and non-queer. But the power of queer books can’t be overstated. Even I, who grew up in an incredibly supportive, accepting environment (biggest thank you imaginable to my wonderful family for being that way), was enlightened and comforted when, in the short period when I was closeted, I found bisexual characters in books that reflected my story and my feelings. Queer literature is revelatory, and it saves lives. For queer people, it gives them the comfort that they aren’t alone. For others, it gives them a glimpse into perspectives that they might not have otherwise considered, and compels them to empathize with people who are different than them.

So this pride month, and all year round (as always), when you think of what you can do to support the LGBTQ+ community, consider picking up a book. Support queer authors. Buy from queer-owned bookstores, because they tend to be pretty cool places. Support your local library (because they need it now more than ever)—checking out queer books shows them that they’re in demand, and that encourages librarians to keep on shelving them. For us book bloggers and other social media-oriented folks: keep on reviewing and shouting out books. And for all of us: no president, no government, and no legislation can take away your queerness. No one has that power but you. Your queerness is revolutionary and beautiful. Keep on being queer.

So here is my annual list of great LGBTQ+ reads from all sorts of genres, backgrounds, and identities. If I’ve mistakenly identified something about a book’s representation, please let me know! I’ve mixed YA and Adult books here, and I’ve also added a nonfiction section for the first time, as I’ve done with my other recommendation lists.

A refresher on my key:

MC: Main character

LI: Love interest

SC: Side character(s)

For my posts from previous years, click below:

Let’s begin, shall we?

🌈THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S BOOKS FOR PRIDE MONTH (2025 EDITION)🌈

FANTASY:

Includes paranormal, magical realism, horror, and genre fusion(s)

The River Has Roots – Amal El-Mohtar | Adult | queer MC, gender nonconforming LI | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
The Water Outlaws – S.L. Huang | Adult | sapphic MC, gender nonconforming MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
The Library of the Unwritten – A.J. Hackwith | Adult | pansexual MC, bisexual SC, sapphic SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
The Nightward – R.S.A. Garcia | Adult | Queer MC, queer and trans SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Lost Story – Meg Shaffer | Adult | bisexual MC (x2), asexual MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Someone You Can Build a Nest In – John Wiswell | Adult | sapphic/asexual MC, sapphic LI | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Freshwater – Akwaeke Emezi | Adult | gender nonconforming/sapphic MC |⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
To a Darker Shore – Leanne Schwartz | YA | demisexual MC, lesbian SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
The Sun and the Void – Gabriela Romero Lacruz | Adult | sapphic MCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Girl, The Ring, & The Baseball Bat – Camille Gomera-Tavarez | YA | bisexual MCs (x2), asexual MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Death’s Country – R.M. Romero | YA | polyamorous MCs (f/f/m), bisexual SCs |⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Sixteen Souls – Rosie Talbot | YA | gay MC, trans LI, several queer SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Gwen & Art are Not in Love – Lex Croucher | YA | bisexual MC, gay MC, gay & sapphic SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Patricia Wants to Cuddle – Samantha Allen | Adult | bisexual MC, lesbian SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

SCIENCE FICTION:

Includes dystopia, speculative fiction, & genre fusion(s)

Ocean’s Godori – Elaine U. Cho | Adult | queer MC, queer, polyamorous SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Last Gifts of the Universe – Riley August | Adult | nonbinary MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
You Sexy Thing – Cat Rambo | Adult | queer MC, nonbinary LI, various queer SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
The Seep – Chana Porter | trans woman/lesbian MC, several sapphic & queer side characters | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.25
The Stardust Grail – Yume Kitasei | Adult | nonbinary MC, asexual SC, polyamorous SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Vela – Becky Chambers, Yoon Ha Lee, S.L. Huang, and Rivers Solomon | Adult | trans woman/lesbian MC, nonbinary MC, sapphic SCs, nonbinary SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Floating Hotel – Grace Curtis | Adult | nonbinary MC, lesbian SC, bisexual SC, pansexual SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Stars Too Fondly – Emily Hamilton | Adult | bisexual MC, lesbian LI, trans woman SC, nonbinary SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Why on Earth: An Alien Invasion Anthology – edited by Rosiee Thor and Vania Stoyanova | YA | various queer/trans MCs and SCs (anthology) | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Countess – Suzan Palumbo | Adult | lesbian MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Catherine House – Elisabeth Thomas | Adult | bisexual MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
A People’s Future of the United States – edited by Victor LaValle and John Joseph Adams | Adult | various queer/trans MCs and SCs (anthology) | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Finna – Nino Cipri | Adult | queer MC, nonbinary MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Hammajang Luck – Makana Yamamoto | Adult | agender lesbian MC, lesbian LI, trans man SC, trans woman/lesbian SC, lesbian SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Time and Time Again – Chatham Greenfield | YA | lesbian MC, nonbinary lesbian LI, several queer SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75

REALISTIC FICTION

Roll for Love – M.K. England | YA | bisexual MC, lesbian LI, asexual SC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.75
Desert Echoes – Abdi Nazemian | YA | gay MC, gay LI, several queer SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Love Letters for Joy – Melissa See | YA | panromantic asexual MC, pansexual LI, bisexual, lesbian, and gay SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
If You Still Recognize Me – Cynthia So | YA | bisexual MC, lesbian, sapphic, bisexual, gay, and nonbinary SCs
Ander & Santi Were Here – Jonny Garza Villa | YA | nonbinary MC, queer LI, bisexual, grey-ace, and lesbian SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Can’t Take That Away – Steven Salvatore | YA | genderqueer MC, bisexual LI, gay, lesbian, and pansexual SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Some Girls Do – Jennifer Dugan | YA | bisexual MC, lesbian MC, trans, pansexual, and gay SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Stars in Their Eyes – Jessica Walton and Aśka | YA | bisexual MC, nonbinary LI | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Navigating With You – Jeremy Whitley and Cassio Ribeiro | YA | lesbian MC, bisexual MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Oye – Melissa Mogollon | YA | lesbian MC | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Between Perfect & Real – Ray Stoeve | YA | transmasc MC, lesbian, bisexual, gay, trans, and nonbinary SCs | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
A Bánh Mì for Two – Trinity Nguyen | YA | bisexual MC, sapphic LI | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

NONFICTION:

All Boys Aren’t Blue – George M. Johnson | ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches – Audre Lorde | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Stonewall Reader – edited by the New York Public Library | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Welcome to St. Hell: My Trans Teen Misadventure – Lewis Hancox | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Bi: The Hidden Culture, History, and Science of Bisexuality – Julia Shaw | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Gender Queer: A Memoir – Maia Kobabe | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic – Alison Bechdel | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Strong Female Character – Fern Brady | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Fire Never Goes Out: A Memoir in Pictures – N.D. Stevenson | ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these books, and if so, what did you think of them? What are some of your favorite queer books that you’ve read recently? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

lindsey…please tell me this is a sign that you’re cooking something…

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

Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 4/6/25

Posted on April 6, 2025April 6, 2025 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

This week: I wish I’d gotten this unintentionally all-women lineup (or, all frontwomen, at least) for March, but every month is Women’s Month! (Especially now…reach out to your representatives about the SAVE Act, for the love of god. Protect your right to vote!) Also, the broad spectrum of romance: rollerskating past a cute person’s window on one end, and beating up creepy guys in the club on the other. Duality of woman.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 4/6/25

“Brand New Key” – Melanie

Somebody needs to start a hypothetical support group for carefree, childhood-inspired songs that get slapped with distinctly “adult” interpretations (see: “Lookin’ Out My Back Door,” a delightful song about imagination that everybody chalks up to LSD). Yeah, yeah, you can’t control how your work will be interpreted, but for the love of god, EVERYTHING ROD-SHAPED ISN’T AN INNUENDO. Quit summoning Freud with an ouija board…why can’t we as a culture let go of darkening everything inspired by childhood? Everybody just seems content to label anything childish as naïve, whack it with a frying pan, and justify its essence by saying that there’s a “mature” meaning behind it…can you not digest a little unadulterated happiness without your edgelord pills?

Anyways. As Melanie tells it, the song was inspired by eating McDonald’s after an extensive fast: “no sooner after I finished that last bite of my burger …that song was in my head. The aroma brought back memories of roller skating and learning to ride a bike and the vision of my dad holding the back fender of the tire.” It’s such a weightless song—from the minute the opening riff kicks in, it never walks—it skips between jump-ropes. “Brand New Key” is just so charmingly joyous to me. Melanie boldly announces herself with a smile that never fades as the song retains a timeless bounce that makes every step into a little shimmy, every turn of the shoulders into a carefree sway. Yet even with the folksy instrumentals, the kind that should give this song a one-way ticket into Wes Anderson’s next movie, it’s Melanie’s voice that makes “Brand New Key.” She takes on the persistence of the song’s narrator with a self-assured confidence—she can roller-skate anywhere she pleases, and she’ll do it with gusto. The way she crows the iconic line in the second verse—”For someone who can’t drive, I’ve been all around the world/Some people say I’ve done alright for a girl”—can’t inspire any emotion other than pure, fist-pumping joy. “Brand New Key” isn’t exactly some sort of revolutionary work of feminism (and that might be as much of a stretch as the innuendo), but I can’t help but think of Melanie’s boldness and relentless devotion to her creative vision, so soon after she’d performed at Woodstock at the age of 22 and begun to make a name for herself as an artist. “Brand New Key” has gone down in history more as a novelty song than anything, but it’s stuck for a reason—I can’t help but bob up and down with joy with every successive play.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

The Heartbreak Bakery – A.R. Capetta – The romance isn’t a one-to-one match, obviously, but the carefree spirit of young love (and bicycle-riding) remains the same.

“Most Wanted Man” – Lucy Dacus

Now that the dust has settled and I’ve listened more to Forever is a Feeling, it’s still a good album, but not the good I can usually expect from Lucy Dacus. After my first listen, I came away with the thought that the singles were better than the album as a whole, but also that she’d almost sold out, that dreaded stage in an artist’s career. It’s not like she wasn’t indie-popular before, but now she’s on the verge of popular popular, dueting with Hozier popular. I don’t believe Dacus, with her penchant for turns of phrase too clever to fully fit any kind of mold, will ever go fully mainstream. But with the relatively toned-down spirit of Forever is a Feeling, I can’t help but think that it was the doing of a major label that made some of these songs…almost tame. Even though the same amount of emotional explosion remains under the surface, for half of the songs, it almost feels curtailed. She’s never allowed an impassioned belt or more than a small guitar solo at the end of a song. I’m not saying that she was, y’know, absolutely screamo or anything, but she knew how to give even the smallest moments the weight of the world. This album should’ve been the perfect opportunity, given that it’s crafted from heartfelt vignettes of falling in love with Julien Baker (SO HAPPY FOR THEM!!! my boys…I wish them all the best!! 🥹). Maybe it’s just personal. It’s always weird to see indie artists get popular. Who knows.

That being said, it’s not like Forever is a Feeling was a bad album by any stretch. Lyrics? Always top-notch. And when it was able to delve into the deepest well of emotion (see: “Lost Time”), it got plenty of moments of true, misty-eyed beauty and affection. “Most Wanted Man” was one of the immediate standouts, and not just because of the tempo. With it’s upbeat, guitar-driven sway, Dacus constructs a tattered, energetic scrapbook styled like a blurry-viewed movie montage of moments with Julien Baker: “Tied in a double knot/Just like our legs all double knotted/In the morning at the Ritz/$700 dollar room, still drinking coffee from the Keurig/We’re soaking up the luxuries on someone else’s dime.” Dacus called it the song on the album that’s most overtly about her relationship with Baker, and it’s full of unbridled joy for what they’ve had, but also for the adventures they’ve yet to have together, repeating a starry-eyed refrain of “I’ll have time to write the book on you.” Besides the healing reference to “Everybody Does” (“Gripping my inner thigh/Like if you don’t, I’m gonna run”…right in the 2020 Madeline) and Baker herself contributing harmonies, it’s a song brimming with hope, of seizing the moment, and yet holding the excitement of spending your life with someone in your heart. Major label or no, they can’t stop Lucy Dacus from penning the most heartfelt songs about relationships, be they romantic or platonic.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

The Falling in Love Montage – Ciara Smyth – A similarly energetic and tender (and sapphic!) story of love and adventuring.

“Overrated Species Anyhow” – Deerhoof

I know an album intro when I see one…and I heard this single before Deerhoof announced their new album, Noble and Godlike in Ruin. It’s short, anthemic, it feels like a nice thesis…and it’s a good thesis to boot: “Love to all my aliens/Lost, despised, or feared/You are why I wrote these passages.” I feel like that scene in Into the Spiderverse at Peter Parker’s funeral where one of many strangers in a Spider-Man masks tells Miles Morales that “he’s probably not talking about you,” but I will gladly be accepted as one of said aliens. Hey, “Future Teenage Cave Artists” got me through a pretty nasty bout of anxiety, and I cherish it to this day.

Thus far, some of the album seems to be about frontwoman Satomi Matsuzaki’s experience as an immigrant in America alongside all of the hateful rhetoric that is (and has always been) multiplying; Admittedly, I balked at the use of the word “savages” in the way that it’s used here, but I can see it as being a reclamation of a term that has been historically lobbed against immigrants. (Still not ideal, but I can at least see the justification of it.) “Overrated Species Anyhow” feels almost choir-like, meant to be sung as a kind of incantation of sanctuary; amidst the chaotic melding of birdsong, “Via Chicago”-like drumming, and a cascade of rippling instrumentals, the track serves as both an outstretched hand to the othered and an opening of the album’s curtain. I don’t think I’m dedicated enough of a fan to go into Noble and Godlike in Ruin, but this offering is a lovely, delightfully weird one, as Deerhoof always is.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

A People’s Future of the United States – edited by Victor LaValle (anthology) – at times, frightening (and sometimes too feasible) visions of the future, but all containing stories of marginalized resistance.

“catch these fists” – Wet Leg

Wet Leg’s self-titled 2022 debut isn’t a particular favorite of mine, but it marked its place right when I graduated high school—it was full of droll, commandingly danceable anthems for that short time in my life. Yet even then, I got the sense that their songs were on the repetitive side. They’re a bit like Weezer, in a way—they have maybe two or three songs, but all of them are great. They know what they’re good at. Now that Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers have announced their next album, moisturizer (are all of their albums going to be synonyms for “wet?” damp, coming in 2028!), it seems as though they’re trodding on the same path. Here’s the thing: it’s a good path. I feel like it’d be too harsh to call them one trick ponies, because they’ve got at least two or three, but those tricks? They’re infectious, catchy, and begging to be played over and over. “catch these fists” may be covering the same ground they’ve covered for three years (unsatisfying romance, drugs, clubbing, shitty men), but they inject it with energy that would make anyone want to get up and have some fisticuffs. The disaffected, rhythmic way that Teasdale intones the lines of “Can you catch a medicine ball?/Can you catch yourself when you fall?” provide a slinking hook for a song with a killer right hook that never loses its potency.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Into the Crooked Place – Alexandra Christo – an action-packed match for the high energy (and fist-fighting) in this song.

“Rise and Shine” – The Cardigans

Whew, we’ve got another whiplash transition here…not necessarily from the tempo, but without a doubt, the lyrics. I guess if we’re going linearly, we’re healing? You gotta beat scummy men hitting on you to a pulp sometimes, but then you’ve got to go reconnect with nature and regain your faith in humanity the next morning. Healing! We’re circling back to Melanie’s unfettered happiness in no time.

Leave it to The Cardigans to bring that pure levity. “Rise & Shine” was the first song that they recorded with Nina Persson as the lead vocalist, which…the fact that they considered anyone else but her is astounding, given how enduring and clear her voice has proven to be, but it seems that it’s the reason they began their upward descent to fame. It later came on their debut album, Emmerdale, and the track feels as free as the album cover’s dog bounding through a field of grass. With its jangly guitars and tambourine percussion, there’s an inherent scent of summer that they’ve bottled inside every note as Persson sings of reconnecting with nature: “I want to be alone for a while/I want to Earth to breath to me/I want the ways to grow loud/I want the sun to bleed down.” Despite the angst aplenty that they’d later become masters at (see: “Step On Me”), this kind of upbeat, optimistic spirit became an undercurrent of their music that keeps me returning time after time. Even when Nina Persson’s in abject misery, they at least make you want to dance, right?

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

The Teller of Small Fortunes – Julie Leong – “I want to be alone for a while/I want earth to breathe to me/I want the waves to grow loud/I want the sun to bleed down…”

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!

Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 2/23/25

Posted on February 23, 2025February 23, 2025 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

This week: British women dominating rock music for decades, American women giving the gays what they want, and Thom Yorke’s seeming inability to make a bad song since 1995.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 2/23/25

“Long Snake Moan” – PJ Harvey

Finally, finally, I’ve listened to a full PJ Harvey album! Took me long enough. Me and my arbitrary rules for listening to albums that I break half the time. Anyway. To Bring You My Love? I know this is the most vague descriptor you could give for an album, but it truly ROCKS. So many of these tracks embody the raw power that rock n’ roll can have. Not just that, but it feels like a love letter to the rich ancestry of the blues in rock n’ roll. Even without as much background knowledge of the blues, you can just feel the grimy, grungy crawling with threads of DNA in the history of blues in every growl that Harvey lets out. The desperation and wayward storytelling of “To Bring You My Love” and “Teclo” could’ve been fragments lost in the American south from decades before Harvey released the album. It feels to me like an example of the enduring power of any kind of music—here we have a white British woman in the mid-’90s taking inspiration from music from the ’20s-’40s made primarily by Black people all the way across the ocean, here in the States. Who would’ve thought.

One caveat with me saying that the album rocks: it’s got a relatively slow tempo, and we don’t get into the real guitars-going-crazy rock for a few songs. “Long Snake Moan” is one such song, and it knows it—Harvey’s sly “mmm-hmm” before the guitars slam into you like the brunt force of an avalanche is more proof of a smirk than a visual could ever be. She knows she’s about to absolutely wallop her listeners. And “Long Snake Moan” is one of the most enduring songs on the album. The title is a nod to Blind Lemon Jefferson’s “Black Snake Moan,” and though the sound differs, the desire of it is what fuels both; Harvey recalls a lust so all-consuming that “You’ll be drowning/Hell’s below, God above/All drunk on my love.” With every impassioned bellow, you can feel the ragged passion sloughing off every note, desperate yet distinctly conscious of its towering presence and power.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

The Familiar – Leigh Bardugo – “In my dreaming/You’ll be drowning/Hell’s low, God above/All drunk on my love…”

“Ride” – The Vines

I was this close to calling The Vines Britpop, but as it turns out, they’re technically nothing of the sort. Not because of the sound, which very edges closer to the rockier side of Britpop, but because they’re Australian. I don’t want to risk the wrath of any Australians, so consider myself checked before I’ve gotten hypothetically wrecked. Oops.

Regardless of whether or not they wanted to hop on the bandwagon, “Ride” feels firmly between Blur’s grunge-parody-that-became-kinda-grunge self-titled album and Supergrass. (Craig Nicholls also kinda has that Britpop, bad-boy frontman look on lock. The bangs, the smolder…) And “Ride” is such an adrenaline rush of a rocker. Guitar tone? Heavy and clean in perfect balance. Vocals? Though Nicholls’ voice doesn’t stand out to me, that distorted scream in between the chorus reminds of the best of 2000’s rock. The art of the rock scream is a sacred one—a well-placed scream can make or break a song, and Nicholls’ is simultaneously put in the spotlight and tucked into the crashing rhythms of the chorus, a grungy accent that drives up the fuel-burning energy of the track. It’s got a rasp that’s perfect for just what it is—a headbangable, garage-y rock track begging for a flimsy stereo speaker to be blasted from.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Victories Greater Than Death (Unstoppable, #1) – Charlie Jane Anders – the adrenaline-rushed, breakneck pace of this novel matches the reckless, rocking urgency of this track.

“Best Guess” – Lucy Dacus

This video is so cute and gay that I can almost ignore how annoying Cara Delevingne is…oh, no, wait, she’s caressing Lucy Dacus and hamming it up for the camera. Of course.

Either way, 2025 is shaping up to be an excellent year for music about tender love between queer women, between Send a Prayer My Way and everything that Lucy Dacus is putting out (aside from “Limerence”…oof). As much as Dacus’ emotional hard-hitters have a soft spot in my heart (was my 18-year-old brain permanently altered by the “Night Shift” belt? Perhaps), she makes tender, gentle love songs look easy. It rings similarly to her pair of Carole King covers (“Home Again” and “It’s Too Late”) from 2022, with the same slow rhythm and inner warmth; even with the fleeting mentions of over-the-moon obsession (“Tracing your tan lines/Making you mind/If this doesn’t work out/I’ll lose my mind”), it’s a very grounded, worldly kind of love song, in typical Dacus fashion. The first verse of the song centers around caressing the more physical aspects of her lover’s body, but it almost immediately professes that “I love your body/I love your mind/They will change/So will I.” So simply stated, but immediately after that, Dacus professes her undying love. That to me, feels like real love—appreciating your partner for everything that they are, impermanent as it may be. It shouldn’t be groundbreaking lyrical ground, and I don’t think it is, but it’s always refreshing when it comes up, with so many love songs focusing on youth and impermanent, surface-level qualities of people. Plus, “Best Guess” is just such a lovely, catchy song. That guitar riff at the end? Absolutely SUCCULENT. Waiter, more Lucy Dacus guitar work, please! Best-of lists are inevitably subjective, but you didn’t get named the 213th best guitarist of all time by Rolling Stone for nothing, queen! Plus, again…it’s gay. More music videos full of queer people AND queer people being happy, please!!

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Navigating With You – Jeremy Whitley and Cassio Ribeiro – soft, tender, sapphic love…and bonding over manga.

“There, There” – Radiohead

It always comes back to Radiohead. I don’t talk about music videos as extensively as much as I do the songs themselves, but “There, There” has to be one of my favorite Radiohead music videos of all time. Maybe my favorite? Not sure. Directed by Chris Hopewell, it shows Thom Yorke, his movements edited to give the appearance that he’s a stop-motion puppet, wandering into a Beatrix Potter storybook; after peering into miniature houses hollowed into trees, he finds squirrels smoking pipes, a weasel riding a Penny-farthing, all manner of rodents having a feast, and a cat couple’s wedding ceremony officiated by a crow. Of course, Thom Yorke breaks the first rule of the Brothers Grimm (from which he and Hopewell drew inspiration for the video), that being “don’t steal the shiny clothes off of that ominous-looking tree.” You can imagine how well that goes for him. It goes contrary to the largely technological, dystopian aesthetic that has endured throughout Radiohead’s discography, despite their many changes in sound. Up until The King of Limbs, their music was rarely associated with such naturalistic imagery, but that kind of fairytale darkness, paired with the lyrics, makes for a different kind of eeriness than what they usually brew. It all makes the song’s alternate title, “The Boney King of Nowhere,” all the more fitting.

Now, the lyrics…”We are accidents waiting to happen?” WHEW. I always forget about that one…for a band that seems to churn out unforgettable lyrics at a concerning rate, even this feels like one of the most masterful lines they’ve ever come up with. Like the gleaming coat and boots that Yorke finds in the forest, “There, There” is a song of being tugged in a myriad of directions—likely all the wrong ones. In typical Radiohead fandom fashion, most people seem to be divided about what kind of temptation it’s specifically talking about—general religious, personal relationships, you get the picture. The emphasis on the personal pronouns—”I go walking in your landscape,” “We are accidents waiting to happen”—lead me to believe closer to the latter, though I and We can easily be other concepts. There’s an intoxication to “There, There,” a painfully magnetic urge to enter into something dangerous, something that will by all accounts destroy you, but the irresistible temptation remains: “There’s always a siren/Singing you to shipwreck/Steer away from these rocks/We’d be a walking disaster.” One part of you cries “Heaven sent you to me,” the other cries “We’d be a walking disaster.” The chorus of “Just ’cause you feel it/Doesn’t mean its there” is the perfect embodiment of keeping up the façade of devotion—or any kind of emotion that has such a sway that you’re convinced of its reality, even when it has no roots. The whole band makes this spectacle of temptation feel like a trek deep into the mouth of a cave; Phil Selway leans on the thumping of the tom-toms, creating a truly cavernous shell for the song, while the reverb on Jonny Greenwood’s and Ed O’Brien’s guitars echo as though confined by the same dappled walls.

I get so hyperbolic with Radiohead. God, I know I do. I swear that past a certain point (1995?), a good 75% of their songs are tiny masterclasses in how to be creative—how to craft an atmosphere, how to write a gut-punching lyric, how to make music that sticks.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Someone You Can Build a Nest In – John Wiswell – “Why so green and lonely?/Heaven sent you to me/We are accidents waiting to happen…”

“The World’s Biggest Paving Slab” – English Teacher

So listen. I haven’t seen Frank. The one with Michael Fassbender, right? I’ve been meaning to watch it for years, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Should this music video give me enough of an idea?

~~My entirely arbitrary album listening system~~ Destiny has not yet decided whether or not English Teacher will end up being a band I actually get into, or if I’ll resign myself to going “oh, this song is GREAT” and put off listening to them for another three to five business years. They’ve only got one album, This Could Be Texas, so I really don’t have an excuse. It’s on the list, though. And that one album won last year’s Mercury Prize, so it has to be worth it—not necessarily by virtue of being award-winning, but beating out Beth Gibbons and Charli XCX isn’t exactly an easy feat, even for an award that seems to cater more to alternative artists. Either way, “The World’s Biggest Paving Slab” is proof that no matter what, some part of me will always be attracted to any kind of alt/indie rock coming out of the UK. Something must be in the water there. Or maybe I inherited the gene from my dad, who spent his high school days listening to Julian Cope. Probably both.

Even just from this glimpse, I can already see how much of an avant-garde sensibility that Lily Fontaine and company have; their chord progressions seem to slant ever so angularly, prickly and particular, until the chorus lets them dissipate like fog. The lyrics are a collage of people and curios from Fontaine’s hometown of Colne; being at university for four years gave her the space to look back on it: “witnessing the social, economic and political issues that exist around there in juxtaposition with the beauty of the landscape and the characters that live within in it.” “The World’s Biggest Paving Slab” evokes everything from banks to remnants of the witch trials and a far-right terrorist—a complex history within what, as far as I can tell, is an unassuming, rural place on the surface. Through Fontaine, Colne itself announces its presence as something to be “Walk[ed] all over,” yet also as something containing multitudes beneath the time-weathered stone, for those who care to notice. Fontaine’s vocals switch from airy in the chorus to spoken-word in the blink of an eye, but both ring equally as cries of complicated pride: “I am the world’s biggest paving slab/And the world’s smallest celebrity.”

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Lagoon – Nnedi Okorafor – the place couldn’t be further away, but it’s a similar concept united around the soul of a place—in this case, Lagos, Nigeria.

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!

Uncategorized

The Bookish Mutant’s 5-Star Reads of 2024

Posted on December 30, 2024 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Monday, bibliophiles!

Some years make it difficult to focus on the good things. It would be easy for me to look back at this year and see that it’s been ruled by anxiety, because…well, a good portion of it was. I was incredibly anxious about a number of things this year, I’m on the precipice of some big transitions in my life, and we’re entering a dark time in our country’s history. It can be so all-consuming that I forgot that it did not, in fact, consume all. I do have some pretty proud achievements to count towards myself this year, but most of all, I got through it. Whatever gripped me, whether or not I should have been worrying about it, I got through it. And I’m here. And I’ll be here through 2025.

The amount of books I’ve read gets smaller every year, but it’s allowed me to be more selective. Sure, my 5-star reads shrink every year, but it’s proportional to how much I actually read. I’m more selective now that I have less time to read—that doesn’t mean that bad books slip through, but I feel like the amount of stinkers I’ve read has decreased, and I’ve expanded my DNF criteria to just mean books that aren’t egregiously bad, but that I don’t want to continue with simply because life is short. My 5-star reads this year consisted of the return of old favorites, anticipated sequels, and new-to-me books that blew me out of the water—a diverse patchwork of a rocky but ultimately fruitful year—and they were a part of what made this year good.

NOTE: I will not be including re-reads on this post; I re-read The Galaxy, and the Ground Within as well as the entire WondLa trilogy this year—obvious 5-star reads.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S 5-STAR READS OF 2024⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Crumrin Chronicles, vol. 1: The Charmed and the Cursed – Ted Naifeh – Courtney Crumrin returns…WE ARE SO BACK. | Read my review here!
The Crumrin Chronicles, vol. 2: The Lost and the Lonely – Ted Naifeh – see my comments for vol. 1.
The Crumrin Chronicles, vol. 3: The Wild and the Innocent – Ted Naifeh – again, see above, but this time, add a buff, gay camp counselor named after a Magnetic Fields song. Do wonders never cease…
The Brightness Between Us (The Darkness Outside Us, #2) – Eliot Schrefer – I never thought that a sequel to The Darkness Outside Us was necessary, but Schrefer blew it out of the water with this one. I don’t think the emotional heights of book 1 can ever be reached again, but damn, this one sure came close. | Read my review here!
Radiohead: Climbing Up the Walls – Tom Sheehan – it’s a bunch of behind the scenes photos of Radiohead…do I really have to explain?
Beautyland – Marie-Helene Bertino – a brilliant exploration of alien identity, longing for a home you’ve never had, and being human. | Read my review here!
The Stardust Grail – Yume Kitasei – art theft, creatures abound, and a deeply emotional story of preserving history and friendships. | Read my review here!
The Traveling Cat Chronicles – Hiro Arikawa – essential reading for anyone who has ever loved a cat. Had me crying in my bed. | Read my review here!
Squire – Nadia Shammas and Sara Alfageeh – an unflinching tale of imperialism from the eyes of an eager young girl. | Read my review here!
Sister Outsider – Audre Lorde – Audre Lorde. Need I say more?

HONORABLE MENTIONS (4.5 stars)

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you read any of these books, and if so, did you enjoy them as much as I did? What were your favorite reads of the year? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

That’s it for my favorite books of 2024! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!

Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 8/4/24

Posted on August 4, 2024 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

This week: I fully see the irony of putting a song called “Get Off the Internet” on a blog post……….decidedly on the internet, but you get it, right? Right?

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 8/4/24

“Get Off the Internet” – Le Tigre

I miss when people could get along despite their politics, but…have you seen Project 2025 lately? Were you not paying attention to Trump’s entire presidency? I wouldn’t be saying this if, y’know, they weren’t trying to take all of our rights away, but…

GET OFF THE INTERNET!! DESTROY THE RIGHT WING!!!!

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Our Stories, Our Voices: 21 YA Authors Get Real About Injustice, Empowerment, and Growing Up Female in America – edited by Amy Reed – modern accounts of femininity and feminism from a collection of incredible authors.

“Gran Mamare” (from Ponyo) – Joe Hisaishi

Watching Ponyo as an adult felt like watching it for the first time. Technically, my recent rewatch was my second time seeing it in over a decade. Every time I’ve thought about it before then, it felt like a fever dream…probably because my first viewing was something along those lines. I was about 5 or 6, and I’m almost positive that I was home sick from school. Either way, I was in my parents’ bed. All I could remember were faint glimpses of Ponyo underwater, the man, the myth, the legend, Fujimoto (close enough, welcome back David Bowie)…and Granmamare.

If there’s any gorgeously-crafted scene (of which there are many) to take away from that movie, it’s any scene with her. No wonder my five-year-old brain retained an image of such beauty, even when it was (probably) sick. Her first appearance isn’t necessarily emotional—all she’s doing is talking to Fujimoto about what to do with Ponyo—but all of the sudden, I found myself overcome with tears. All those years ago, and it took my breath away. (And who better to voice such a goddess of such beauty than Cate Blanchett? It had to be Cate Blanchett.) Maybe I was just in an emotional state, but something in the sheer beauty of that scene stirred up something hidden and beautiful in me. Joe Hisaishi’s sweeping score gives it an appropriately sparkling, John Williams-like grandeur, befitting of a character so powerful that she illuminates the whole ocean with her radiance.

Either way, I’m so glad that I rewatched it. Ponyo want ham.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Lakelore – Anna-Marie McLemore – mysterious and magical underwater realms, anyone? (Admittedly, Ponyo delivers much more on that aspect, but you can’t beat Miyazaki.)

“I’ve Got Me” – Joanna Sternberg

The name of the video is a bit of a misnomer, in my opinion—yes, technically it is a lyric video, but the lyrics are accompanied by a full-color comic drawn by Sternberg, which makes it feel like a fully-fledged music video. It’s so worth a watch—they have such a charming art style.

When I say this, I say it with all of the affection in my soul, but it’s remarkable that at only 32, Joanna Sternberg sounds just like a kind, elderly music teacher. Again: nothing but affection. Their voice just emanates that comfort that I associate with the kind of person who teaches preschoolers how to use maracas and such. The album art, as well as the associated art only add to the vibe—the scratchy inking and pastel backgrounds only add to the feeling that I would find this CD in said music teacher’s collection. Heck, I can almost imagine having to sing “I’ve Got Me” in a preschool program, if not for lines like “between self-hatred and self-awareness is a very small, thin line.”

Nonetheless, all of this is to say that “I’ve Got Me” has a purity to it. It’s got the sing-songy sway of a children’s song, but in its touching vulnerability, brushes over a sentiment I’ve battled with for much of my life: “why is it so hard to be kind and gentle to myself?” (Boy, do I relate to the panel at 0:46 with a sullen-faced Sternberg wearing thick-framed glasses captioned “me looking through the file cabinet in my brain that stores all of my bad memories”—even better, it’s alphabetized.) Armed with nothing more than their acoustic guitar and a stand-up bass, they produce a solution that gives this even more of a children’s music feel: “Take the box of self-deprecation/Lock it and put it on the shelf/Then wait five days, take that box/And throw it in the fire.” Through said self-deprecation gathering dust and anxiety on the shelf, Sternberg retains an understated but resilient hope—”I’ve Got Me” as a title feels like an assertion that, no matter if you think you’re alone, you are all you’ve got. You have but one body and one mind, in all of its flaws, and you may not be able to control some of the inevitable bouts of self-deprecation, but it’s still you, in the end.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Someone You Can Build a Nest In – John Wiswell – in both a literal and figurative sense, learning self-love after viewing yourself as monstrous.

“Learning to Apologize Effectively” – Deerhoof

Being a newcomer to Deerhoof is a unique experience because I can never seem to find a consensus about what they sound like—or what other people think they sound like, at any rate. One reviewer says this is a return to form, another critic says it’s some kind of new venture, like nothing they’ve ever done before. The only consensus I can seem to draw is that they’re bent on being weird—and I have nothing but admiration for that, especially after seeing the craft to their weirdness. (Learning “Future Teenage Cave Artists” on guitar and having to puzzle through not one but four odd time signatures with my guitar teacher sure was something.)

Either way, I’m almost ashamed to say that the YouTube algorithm spat this one up before me, but I’m not one to complain. I’m done being ashamed with how I found out about songs—so long as I have the song in my hands and I enjoy listening to it, what’s the issue, really? “Learning To Apologize Effectively” is much more rock-oriented (as its album, The Magic, seems to be in its entirety), with crashing. classic rock-recalling guitars. Yet even if their inspirations for this track lie more in mainstream rock, there’s that undeniable weirdness that seems to ooze from their music no matter what. Like with “Future Teenage Cave Artists,” Satomi Matsuzaki’s vocals have an uncanny quality to them, not necessarily in the sound of her voice, but in the ever so off-kilter timing of it—I can’t pin down a time signature, but in her “the song is waiting for another song” intro, each pause makes a deliberate form of obscurity, darting into an unexpected corner when you expect it to go down the well-lit hallway right in front of it. It feels like an imitation of rock from a band used to making the most deliberately strange music for most of their career—an imitation that feels almost authentic.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Lagoon – Nnedi Okorafor – “And when we saw what we were doing wrong/We found the cause underwater, long/And then we saw what we were doing wrong…”

“Miss Amanda Jones” – The Rolling Stones

For a fleeting moment, I can pretend that this song exists in a vacuum, and that Mick Jagger hasn’t been acting like it’s 1967 for the past five decades or so. The fact that he (and Keith Richards) have actually survived long enough to act like they’re 20 for so long is almost impressive, but…yikes, dude.

As much as I rag on Jagger and company, I can’t deny that for at least a decade or so, he and the rest of the Stones could concoct some truly legendary songs. Of course they could, they’re the Rolling Stones! Yet somehow, I rarely see this one among the greatest hits—maybe it’s the rose-colored glasses shielding everything once more, but I feel like if it was good enough to name a whole character after it in Some Kind of Wonderful, that has to give it some street cred, right? (So real of them to name a character after a song just so that they could play said song in the movie. I feel like I’m gonna wind up doing that someday.) Aside from being a staple of car rides in my early childhood, it’s just so unbelievably tightly-wound. Not a single cog is winding out of sync, from the twin talents of Brian Jones’ rhythm guitar and Keith Richards’ spiky riffs—in 1966, we already had the precursor to my favorite, early-’70s guitar sound, warm and thick as a fresh pot of soup. It’s a bit too rough around the edges (for the ’60s, anyway) to really be truly jangly, but it’s got the swagger and sway that makes the rock of the ’60s so delightful to listen to.

…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:

Little Thieves – Margaret Owen – “Just watch her as she grow/Don’t want to say it very obviously /But she’s losing her nobility, Miss Amanda Jones …”

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!

Monthly Wrap-Ups

July 2024 Wrap-Up 🌤

Posted on July 31, 2024 by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Wednesday, bibliophiles!

Somehow July’s already over…it felt awfully fast, yet the heat made the evenings so slow…time, huh?

Let’s begin, shall we?

GENERAL THOUGHTS:

July for sure had its ups and downs; I was getting hit with the election anxiety big time at the beginning of the month…so naturally, I was overjoyed at the prospect that Biden had dropped out of the election. Comforting that my options aren’t just “old white man with dementia” and “old white man with dementia who also happens to be a felon.” (Still. No excuse to vote for the felon, folks. Harris 2024!). So my faith has been restored on that front, and I’ve ended the month on a much more hopeful note, thankfully. America remains a dumpster fire, but least there’s some light at the end of the tunnel.

I was able to read a good amount this month, though! As is with every year, I was scrambling to find more and more books with disability rep for Disability Pride Month (there’s a solid amount out there, but it’s still fairly scarce), but I ended up reading some excellent books as a result! Summer has confined me to the house for the most part, what with the miserable heat (listen, I like summer, but not 90 degree heat, let me be clear), but it’s given me plenty of time to read—and to write! I participated in Camp NaNoWriMo this month, and as of today, I reached my goal of 50,000 words a day early! I had no idea that I’d be able to pull it off a day early—I had my ups and downs as far as motivation goes, but now, I’m a little over halfway through my first draft of this novel! I’ve also had fun with my blogging this month, and I feel like I’ve written some productive reviews.

Other than that, I’ve just been drawing, playing guitar, drinking a ton of tea, watching Succession (nearly finished with season 2!), watching and re-watching several Studio Ghibli movies (technically, I saw Ponyo when I was 5, but it felt like a fever dream back then…MUCH more beautiful now!), and doing everything I can to get out of this heat.

READING AND BLOGGING:

I read 18 books this month! As with every month, there were some hits (nearly 5 stars) and misses (an unfortunate DNF…), but I especially had fun reading books for this year’s Disability Pride Month!

1 – 1.75 stars: