Tag: st. vincent

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 10/29/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

Here we are, almost at Halloween, the most wonderful time of the year! And to celebrate, I’ve brewed up a very special post for you, complete with…

…a Christmas color palette.

Hear me out. I didn’t intend to schedule the Christmas colors this week. It just happened. And it’s currently snowing where I am. Please. Please hear me out guys

Will last week’s Sunday Songs graphic cheer you up, then? It’s nice and autumnal…(and it’s got some nice songs, if I do say so myself. Would’ve written about them, but I was exhausted.)

LAST WEEK’S SUNDAY SONGS:

And now, enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 10/29/23

“Maquiladora” – Radiohead

I’ve long since accepted my status as a die-hard Radiohead fan, but I’ve noticed that most diehard Radioheads fans tend to put The Bends in time out in the corner in favor of Kid A and OK Computer. It’s understandable to a certain point—OK Computer is my second favorite album of all time, and Kid A is one of the most important records in modern rock history. But I’ll always have a soft spot for most everything that came out of the Bends era. Yes, it’s far more of a conventional rock record and there’s little of the experimentation that Radiohead became known for, but it’s consistently emotional and chock-full of some beautiful, punchy guitar work. Who can deny the grandeur of “Fake Plastic Trees?” Who can deny that “Planet Telex” is one of the coolest rock album openers of the 90’s, if not of all time? Come on now.

But there were a host of EPs (that I need to explore) that came out shortly before the full album released, with sprinklings of songs that would later appear on it (in this case, the iconic “High & Dry” and “Planet Telex”). Besides having some fantastic cover art (I think I had a dream in early high school where I had it on a shirt), this EP really has something of a hidden gem. The minute the distorted guitars kick in, my first thought was similar to hearing “Burning Bridge” by Kate Bush for the first time—how the hell was this a B-side? How was this not on the album and something like…I don’t know, “Bones” didn’t get relegated to throwaway EP status? It’s incredible. It has to be, since it’s in such legendary company, but “Maquiladora” is worthy of it. The grinding, tidal wave texture of the combined guitars of Thom Yorke, Johnny Greenwood, and Ed O’Brien is always a Radiohead trademark, but it really screams out on this track—the minute they kick it, it’s like watching yourself being buried in rubble, but with a smile on your face. Thom Yorke hasn’t quite wrestled the squeaky cracks out of his voice, but somehow, it sells the crunching angst of the sound ten times more. Everything cascades down around you as you watch it crumble, and the result is an explosion of sound that makes The Bends such a staple of the 90’s. It’s hard, it’s crunchy, and even the softer, twinkling moments screech along like a car past the speed limit, leaving trails of exhaust in its wake. Again: how this track wasn’t on the album is beyond me. Good god. It could’ve been perfectly sandwiched between “High & Dry” and “Fake Plastic Trees.” I’m just saying.

“I Just Wanna Get Along” – The Breeders

Speaking of punchy, early-to-mid 90’s rock…do I smell a coincidentally great transition? (It’s all gonna fizzle out by the time we get to the next song, don’t worry…)

My god, I love the 90’s. I love the 90’s. I really need to listen more of The Breeders, because this hits an especially sweet spot for me. It toes the line between abrasive and absolute tightness; it’s got a punk sensibility to it, but with a sanded edge that smooths it into something truly meticulous in how much it rocks. For a song that’s only a minute and 44 seconds long, it has such a punch to it that could only be so self-contained; it’s rare that I like a song and don’t want to extend it if it’s so short. Some songs were meant to be a smack in the face and then fade away like a sparkler fizzling out. And this song has just the same bite as a sparkler—the double guitar act of twins Kim and Kelley Deal, combined with the thrumming bass of Josephine Wiggs, makes for a deliciously spiky, driving sound. Kim Deal’s deadpan vocals only elevate it—the dry delivery of the line “if you’re so special/why aren’t you dead?” feels like spitting a wad of chewed-up gum in the trash in the most gloriously 90’s way. Deal delivers the song’s title in the same way; it’s not a chant so much as it is a rolled eye and a shrug as you reapply red lipstick in the mirror. There’s a sharply stamped period at the end of each repetition: “I just wanna get along. I just wanna get along.” It oozes confidence, but not in an arrogant way: it’s the kind of confidence of pulling yourself onto a motorcycle without a word and leaving everyone else in the dust.

“Bliss” – Annie Clark

“Bliss” starts at 0:32 in this video.

I’ve done it. I’ve reached peak obscurity in one of these posts. Streaming? No can do. Available to purchase? Doubtful. All we’ve got is a few YouTube videos where the “full” version is still missing a song (or two?), complete with some crusty pixelation on the album art. Mwah.

I am become annoyingly into St. Vincent, scroller of wikipedia rabbit holes. Even though I first heard about this EP during my initial St. Vincent superfan period in about sixth grade, I hadn’t gotten around to listening to it until now. Ratsliveonnoevilstar is St. Vincent before she was St. Vincent; she released the EP in early 2003, when she was a student at the Berklee College of Music. Most of the only copies that exist are floating somewhere around Berklee and possibly on eBay. What remains accessible is three to four songs—Wikipedia only lists three, but “Good Morning” (the first song in the above video) is only on this YouTube version, and “Breathing” seems lost to the ether. And from what Clark herself has said about the EP, it’s likely to stay that way:

“It was horrible. I did that my sophomore year or something. I haven’t listened to that in a really long time. I would say I should have put a little more Bill Callahan and a little less Herbie Hancock in it.”

And upon listening to it, I’m glad I listened to it then and not in middle school, because I sincerely doubt that I would’ve lasted more than 2 minutes at age 12. Now, I can say this affectionately, as someone who is around the age Clark was when she made this EP: this is the most college student thing I’ve ever listened to. She’s made her voice theatrically lower than how her voice sounds as a grown woman, and most of the EP is a very particular brand of over-the-top avant-garde, jazzy-sounding circularity. Most of it’s pleasant to listen to, but it still has an air of “look at me, College Student, producing High Art™️.” But it’s not all bad. Songs like “Bliss” are still full of the meticulous threads that led to the wonderfully clever art-pop of Marry Me five years later. It’s a portrait of a very artsy young musician, one who hadn’t hit her stride yet, but was brimming with inspiration and determination. Clark had a very specific sound in mind, and she was well on her way to nailing it. It’s certainly not your ordinary acoustic college student EP—I guess that’s bound to happen if you’re going somewhere like Berklee, but either way, there’s something endearing about this effort; it’s far from perfect, but it’s the seedling that would go on to sprout one of the most iconic musical careers of the 21st century. #26 on Rolling Stone’s 250 Greatest Guitarists of All Time list? Those lists may be exceedingly subjective, but come on. More than deserved.

I love the sound of old men foaming at the mouth in the Rolling Stone comments section in the morning.

“Backslider” – Toadies

There’s no bond like the bond between a high school girl and a simple but spectacular song that she learned how to play by herself on guitar. It’s a perfect warm-up song; part of why I’ve loved playing guitar more than piano is that I’ve feel more connected with the material that I can use for keeping my fingers dextrous. And when I was first learning this and slowing the song down on YouTube, it doesn’t sound silly like a bunch of other songs do (play “Drive My Car” on 0.5x speed, I dare you)—this just sounded so perfectly bluesy.

I suppose this could be the closest to Halloweeny that this week’s songs come to, but I really should’ve gone with something like “Possum Kingdom” if we wanted some real Halloween. Alas, “Backslider” was on the brain more. But that’s not a complaint—I’ve been coming back to this, the aforementioned vampire song, and “I Come From the Water” since 8th grade, and I have nothing but fond memories of them. That chugging, grinding guitar never fails to hook me just like it did when I was 14; there’s a dark grime clinging to every Toadies song I’ve ever heard, muddy and hazily dark, like the humidity that clings to your forehead at night in the South. (A feeling that they probably knew well, what with the band hailing from Texas.) The flies lingering around the band in the video really tie it all together. It’s a sludgy, eery texture that pairs with everything I’ve heard of theirs, but especially with this, a series of vignettes of Todd Lewis’ Southern, Christian upbringing and the creeping dread ever-present within it. All crammed in just over two and a half minutes, all of that grime and dread is as tight as ever—not polished, but sculpted into something fully-formed.

“Glue Song” – beabadoobee

Since I first posted about beabadoobee way back in July, I’m veeeery slowly sprinkling some of her songs into my rotation. And although not everything’s my speed, I’m not regretting this mini deep-dive into her music! Again, if anyone has any starting points as far as album goes, be my guest! Onto the Sisyphean album bucket list…

An open letter to anybody looking to make a high quality teen rom-com: please, this needs to go at the very end. Imagine that: you see the two protagonists look into each other’s eyes, their hands slowly slip into each others, they smile. The opening strings kick in, camera cuts back to them looking into each other’s eyes. Roll credits as beabadoobee’s voice hits. Perfection, right? I’m starting to see why so much of her catalogue is made up of love songs—from what I can tell, that kind of sweetness has been her trademark for years. “Glue Song” is one of her newest efforts, and it’s easy to see that she’s known for that kind of love song craft. She has the perfect voice for these kind of tenderhearted, smiley ballads—gently high-pitched, feathery, and glimmeringly sweet like honey. As soon as she declares that “I’ve never known someone like you,” I can’t help but believe it. And just like the orchestral arrangements in the background of “the way things go,” the strings and horns trilling in the background elevate “Glue Song” into the perfect bite of cheek-blushingly, dress-twirlingly lovey-dovey declarations. It would be easy to make something like this incredibly sappy, but Bea Kristi’s light voice is light enough to feel like she isn’t trying to pack a ton of unneeded sugar into every note—she knows the balance, and she keeps it simple, gentle. It’s just the right amount of sweetness—enough to melt on your tongue, but not so much that it rots your teeth.

Bonus: she also released a version of “Glue Song” as a duet with Clairo—it’s just as lovely!

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 Monthly Wrap-Ups

February 2023 Wrap-Up ⛷

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

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

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

GENERAL THOUGHTS:

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

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

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

READING AND BLOGGING:

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

2 – 2.75 stars:

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

3 – 3.75 stars:

Ms. Marvel: Fists of Justice

4 – 4.75 stars:

The Fifth Season

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

POSTS I’M PROUD OF:

POSTS FROM OTHER WONDERFUL PEOPLE THAT I ENJOYED:

SONGS/ALBUMS THAT I ENJOYED:

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

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

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

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 2/12/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Sunday, bibliophiles!

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

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 2/12/23

“Bicycle” – St. Vincent

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

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

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

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

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

“Cody’s Only” – Wednesday

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

“Hello Sunshine” – Super Furry Animals

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Books

YA & Adult Reads for Black History Month (2023 Edition)

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Friday, bibliophiles!

February has just rolled around, and in the U.S., the month of February is Black History Month! Ever since I’ve started interacting more with the book blogging community, I’ve been working on reading more diversely, and making posts like these to encourage others to do the same—reading from a single, homogenous perspective is effectively reading in a bubble, when part of what makes reading so special is its ability to give you an easily accessible insight into the perspectives of others.

But this year, the theme of Black History Month is Black Resistance. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how that relates to YA; a good portion YA literature is inherently tied to resistance and anti-authority sentiments. And yes, part of that may be teenagers rebelling against their parents, but it also instills so much power into its impressionable teen audience: even though you’re young, you have the power to change the world. Now that YA has become more diverse in recent years, it has shown that resistance is even more tangible. That tyrannical, dystopian government that the protagonist must defeat can be translated into real-word terms: systemic racism, police brutality, and so much more. Teaching teenagers (and everybody else, for that matter) that they have that power to change the world is such an important thing, because they will grow up knowing that they can enact the same changes as the characters they read about.

That being said, I have been shifting to read more adult books in the past few years, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about some of the amazing books by adult Black authors as well. I’m too lazy to change the graphic, but I’m also going to include some adult-oriented books in here as well.

So with that, here are some of the YA and adult books by Black authors I’ve read in the past year. If you’d like to see my posts from previous years, click below:

Let’s begin, shall we?

YA & ADULT BOOKS FOR BLACK HISTORY MONTH (2023 EDITION)

White Smoke, Tiffany D. Jackson

GENRES: YA, horror, thriller, fiction

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Tiffany D. Jackson has a talent for building suspense, but this is the first time I’ve seen her do a full-blown horror novel—and it was exceptionally chilling!

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

GENRES: Adult, science fiction, Afrofuturism

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

A wildly imaginative piece of Afrofuturism with a disabled protagonist!

Skin of the Sea, Natasha Bowen

GENRES: YA, fantasy, retellings

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

YA mermaid novels have historically been disappointing for me, but Skin of the Sea gave me hope that a good one is possible—and there can be so many creative twists and perspectives put on it!

Blackout, Dhonielle Clayton et. al. (anthology)

GENRES: YA, fiction, romance, short stories (anthology)

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

A collection of short stories about different romances during a blackout in New York City!

The Final Strife (Ending Fire, #1), Saara El-Arifi

GENRES: Adult, fantasy, romance, LGBTQ+

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

A fantasy with exceptional worldbuilding, an unlikely chosen one, and a sapphic romance!

Vinyl Moon, Mahogany L. Browne

GENRES: YA, realistic fiction, novels in verse

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Half prose and half novel-in-verse, Vinyl Moon is a beautiful story of healing and friendship.

Binti (Binti, #1), Nnedi Okorafor

GENRES: Adult, science fiction, space opera

MY RATING: ⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

Normally, I wouldn’t double up on authors, but Nnedi Okorafor really deserves it here—I still need to finish this series, but it’s so charming and inventive!

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! What are some of your favorite books by Black authors that you’ve read recently? Tell me in the comments!

Today’s song:

somehow I didn’t know that this song existed until a few days ago, and I haven’t been able to stop listening to it since

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

Posted in Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (1/31/23) – A Million to One

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I hate to end the month on a negative note review-wise, but I just wasn’t a fan of this novel. I’ve been following Adiba Jaigidar’s books for a little while, and for the most part (still don’t see why Hani and Ishu still gets that much hype), she does well with writing diverse YA romances. I was excited to see her take on a different genre, but to my disappointment, A Million to One read as a half-baked, flimsy excuse for a heist.

For my review of Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating, click here!

Enjoy this week’s review!

A Million to One – Adiba Jaigirdar

Josefa, Emilie, Hinnah, and Violeta: four girls from radically different backgrounds, thrown together on the RMS Titanic. Their mission: to steal a copy of the Rubaiyat, embedded with jewels and worth a fortune. With all of their skills combined, the girls are confident that they can swipe the priceless book once and for all. But the Titanic is filled with distractions, romance, and all sorts of obstacles, and the job may be easier said than done. Add in the recent revelation that the Titanic is sinking, and the four realize that they may be in over their heads…

TW/CW: drowning, mentions of parental abuse, loss of loved ones, abandonment

Yikes. I think I’m gonna have to break up with Adiba Jaigirdar after this one. I loved The Henna Wars, Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating was decent but nothing earth-shattering, and now A Million to One was just plain disappointing. Her books have just gotten progressively worse for me? I really appreciate that she’s branching out from romance, but it really seems like she bit off more than she could chew.

Before I get to all my gripes, I will say that I loved, as with all of Jaigirdar’s novels, the amount of diversity. It’s historical fiction, but we have Black, Pakistani, and Croatian characters, a sapphic romance, and all but one of the main characters are immigrants, which is always fantastic to see. The thing about A Million to One was that everything came down to the execution, and the execution failed miserably.

If I had to sum up A Million to One in brief terms, it feels like Jaigirdar was watching your garden-variety heist movie, fell asleep half an hour in, and then tried to write a book from that memory as soon as she woke up. All of the beats of a typical heist were technically there, but they all but stood around and did nothing. Everything that should have been interesting about this novel—getting the gang together, the Titanic setting, carrying out the heist, the romance—was glossed over in favor of a good 100 pages of dithering in between each major plot point. It was the skeleton of a heist, lacking all of the meat and muscle that would have made it substantial.

For instance: the first few chapters of the novel. These were dedicated to Josefa assembling her crew, which is the kind of beat that I really enjoy in any kind of heist plot. However, all it consisted of was Josefa randomly going up to the rest of the characters with seemingly no explanation and offering them the job, and them either agreeing to it immediately (???), or, if we were lucky, having a paragraph of deliberation before agreeing to it. This could have been a perfect opportunity to develop the characters (especially since they weren’t developed much at all throughout the novel anyway) and introduce their personalities/roles in the heist, but we got absolutely none of that. It wasn’t like A Million to One was so long that this part of the plot needed to be cut down for time—it’s barely over 300 pages. There was no excuse for that.

And for the amount of opportunities that Jaigirdar had to develop these four characters, most of them were shockingly underdeveloped. Other than some insight on the motivations of Violeta and Emilie, all four characters had nearly indistinguishable voices, personalities, and no reason for being on the mission other than a vague role. We got a bit of a tragic backstory for Hinnah, at least, but a tragic backstory with nothing else to go off of does not a well-developed character make. In addition, we only got a vague idea of what the characters’ roles were—the actress, the thief, the acrobat, and the forger—often with no context. For instance: Violeta was supposed to be an actress, but we got no idea of her background, her training, and how she got to be so good. For a novel that seemed to market the diversity and individuality of the crew, it would’ve been leagues better if I had been able to tell who was who without the chapter titles.

The majority of the novel ended up being a bunch of meaningless dithering about on the Titanic, which was intended to…build up the suspense, I supposed, but it felt like far too many pages of The Gang running around the ship, chatting with a boy or two, trying to throw the guards off their trail, and making no progress whatsoever. There was supposed to be a romance somewhere hidden in there, but it ended up being my problem with Hani and Ishu, amplified: two characters just got thrown together with zero prior chemistry, insinuation, or anything that would suggest love. It got to the point where any movement in the novel was indistinguishable, and by the time I finally got around to the actual heist, any semblance of suspense or action had vanished. The only thing that managed to partially grab my attention was the fact that the Titanic had started to sink, but by then, the only aspect that somewhat grabbed my attention was that half of the main cast died. If major character deaths are the only thing that are keeping your reader interested, then something is very wrong with your plot.

All in all, a break from form for Adiba Jaigirdar, but one that ended in a half-baked, borderline boring disaster. 2 stars.

A Million to One is a standalone, but Adiba Jaigirdar is also the author of The Henna Wars, Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating, and the forthcoming The Dos and Donuts of Love.

I’ve already posted once today, but have another song anyway:

such a lovely cover 😭

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

Posted in Music, Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 1/29/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

We’re reaching the end of the month now, and it’s shaping up to be another great year for music already! Also, we’re not even a month into this year and I’m already on another relentless Super Furry Animals kick, so…do with that what you will. It’s fine. Bring on the (Welsh) Britpop craziness.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 1/29/23

“$20” – boygenius

Just to check in…gays, are we all okay after this? Are you okay? Are you sure? Take a deep breath.

Breathe in…

…breathe out. This is really happening. Finally.

the glorious Rolling Stone cover, an homage to an older cover featuring Nirvana
PINS PINS PINS!!

To the elation of the girls and the gays (and to the dismay of a bunch of butthurt boomers in the comments of Rolling Stone’s instagram account, apparently), boygenius are back, and they’re already coming out swinging with three fantastic singles. Although all three showcase the joint talents of Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus, “$20” is the true powerhouse of the trio. Baker’s vocals, from most of her solo work, tend to be restrained at worst, but she lets loose on this single, filled with punchy guitars and equally punchy lyrics. It never slows down, feeling more like riding a wave, thinking that you’re safe in the current, and then getting hit with a powerful mouthful of saltwater with what may be the best Phoebe Bridgers scream yet. More than ever, the harmonies of Baker, Bridgers, and Dacus fit each other like chiseled puzzle pieces, as though they were always destined to work together in near-perfect unison. Needless to say, I doubt I’ll come down from the boygenius high for a while here. I KNOW YOU’VE GOT $20.

“Ice Hockey Hair” – Super Furry Animals

If you described the bare elements of “Ice Hockey Hair” to me—nearly 7 minutes long, heavy on autotune, a minute-long outro with almost nothing but random beep-boops strung together—I doubt I’d be immediately sold. But that’s the magic of Super Furry Animals; they can take any number of weird, outlandish elements and string them into something that’s not only cohesive, but an instant earworm at that. Laden with heavy guitars and drums and backed by a consistent fuzz and an effortless vocal harmony, “Ice Hockey Hair” never makes me lose interest through all 7 minutes, going above just keeping a steady pace and making for the perfect, prolonged Britpop song. I barely ever like autotune, but what sells me about the way that Super Furry Animals use it is that they just embrace the weirdness of it—it’s not to make their voices sound better, it’s just to make it sound weirder, to make it blend into all the screeching static and beeping faintly humming in the background. They’re masters of making their voices into instruments, and not just that, but making them into something just as weird as what’s going on in the rest of the song.

“Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood” – St. Vincent

Added bonus: the gloriously awkward Portlandia music video (“I could stick around for another song if you guys want” “no ❤️”)

Along with Super Furry Animals, I’ve stumbled into another St. Vincent kick as of late, and although I’ve always loved her work, I’m reminded of how rarely she misses (we don’t talk about MASSEDUCTION) in any aspect of her artistry. Actor is only her second album, and already, she’s showcasing her clear virtuosity—lyrically and musically. Even before her rightfully famous electric guitar shredding became an essential part of her music, Annie Clark’s complex, acoustic guitar pickings create an atmosphere that always feels alive, and with the added brass and driving drums, “Laughing With A Mouth of Blood” is a poignant landscape of a song that you can’t help but lose yourself in. St. Vincent’s music never loses its quality with the passage of time, and every listen feels like the wonder and joy of listening to it for the first time.

“Burning Airlines Give You So Much More” – Brian Eno

I was so used to seeing the album cover of Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy (now that’s a title) from really far away, so…am I the only one who thought that Brian Eno was wearing a beret, and it wasn’t just his hand patting him on the head? Is the hand about to give him the Gary Oldman cheek stroke, or is it just to cover up the pseudo-Riff Raff haircut?

…okay, I really shouldn’t be roasting the guy. He’s just doing his wonderful art-pop thing, and I love him for it. So much. Songs like “Cindy Tells Me” have further convinced me that I should listen to more Brian Eno, and this one I like almost as much (though it’s hard, considering how long I had the former on repeat back in October). For a song loosely written about one of the deadliest plane crashes of all time, it’s strangely laid-back, meandering along with bright, jangly guitars and synths in the similar tone. It’s a song to gently sway your head to, one to revel in the multi-layered composition of it as the guitars slowly climb up and down the scale. Brian Eno’s just doing his Brian Eno thing, and I’m so glad he’s doing it.

“Purple Haze” (Jimi Hendrix cover) – The Cure

It’s hard to take a cover and put a spin on it that feels completely new—especially if it’s Jimi Hendrix that you’re covering. But Robert Smith and company make it look easy, putting their signature goth touch on a rock n’ roll classic. Smith pulls the meaning of “haze” to an entirely different direction, layering the song with an eerie, synth-laden atmosphere and distorted vocals. It really does give the song the feel of a haze, like some kind of cloud or curtain that you’re walking through to try and find the heart of the song.Different pieces of instrumentation fade in and out, as though you’re losing consciousness. The guitars are understated, but I think it’s rightfully so—you really can’t touch Jimi Hendrix in that regard, for one, but it’s the fog of distortion and synths that make this cover so memorable. It’s a cover that wouldn’t be out of place at some kind of shady Halloween party (as most of the Cure fits anyway), a musical fog machine that transports you to another realm where you can’t seem to differentiate which way is up or down.

Since this post is all songs, consider this post 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 Book Review Tuesday

Book Review Tuesday (1/24/22) – The Last Cuentista

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Tuesday, bibliophiles!

I’ve had The Last Cuentista on my TBR for a fair amount of time, but I’d forgotten about it until I saw a copy at my college’s library, so I ended up picking it up. I remembered almost nothing about the synopsis or why I wanted to pick it up in the first place, but what I found was a beautiful tale of the power of storytelling.

Enjoy this week’s review!

The Last Cuentista – Donna Barba Higuera

Petra Peña loves nothing more than listening to the stories of her abuelita, and dreams of someday being a storyteller like her. But when Earth is put in danger by a comet, she must abandon her abuelita and travel with her parents and younger brother to planet Sagan, where humanity can start over. But on the centuries-long journey, the ship is infiltrated by the Collective, a shady organization who aims to erase the crimes of humanity’s past by wiping the memories of all the passengers. When Petra wakes up, she realizes that she is the only one who remembers Earth—and the only one who can save what remains of the human species from forgetting itself altogether.

TW/CW: loss of loved ones, descriptions of injury, fear, descriptions of sleep paralysis

Good middle-grade sci-fi is hard to come by, but The Last Cuentista was nothing short of wonderful. With a story as beautiful as its cover, it’s a shining testament to the power of storytelling and a poignant reminder to never forget where you came from.

I know I opened with specifically saying that The Last Cuentista is middle-grade, but I’d say it toes the line right between middle grade and YA. Petra is 13 years old, and there’s certainly some more middle-grade aspects to how the themes are dealt with and some of the character interactions, but it borders on hardcore, nail-biting sci-fi in other places. Think of every piece of sci-fi media that deals with cryosleep for several centuries, and think of all of the potential, existential obstacles that come along with it: chances are, they do end up appearing in this book. It’s a weird place to navigate reading-wise when you’re that age (I certainly remember wishing that there was an in-between place for middle grade and YA), but The Last Cuentista retains a middle-grade sensibility without downplaying the integrity of its themes and world simply because it’s aimed at a younger audience.

One of the strongest aspects of The Last Cuentista was Donna Barba Higuera’s fantastic writing. She especially excels at sensory details; in a particularly nail-biting scene when Petra is still awake while her pod is preparing for cryosleep (AAAAAAAAAAAAAA), Higuera filled her prose with all kinds of sensory details that really sold the crushing fear of the moment. Her descriptions of the bizarre flora and fauna of Sagan are just as lush, painting a picture of an alien planet just as well as Petra’s abuelita paints stories. Higuera’s ability to create suspense and her ability to spin beautiful prose went hand in hand, making for a novel that had me invested the whole time.

The Last Cuentista also had some beautiful themes; Petra’s quest to keep the history of humanity alive through storytelling serves to remind us that we should never forget who we are, despite having a history wracked with war and darkness. The Collective was a perfect, sinister dystopia to set this theme against, and they also added to the suspense that Higuera consistently built throughout the novel. Petra’s journey to return humanity to its roots was poignantly written and so wonderfully timely, and I have no doubt that The Last Cuentista will be a book that stands the test of time. In the end, we are all united by the stories that bind us together. Never underestimate the power of a storyteller.

My only gripe with this novel were some of the characters. Other than Petra and her family, most of the side characters felt interchangeable. A few of them had a few base traits to go off of, but other than that, I often found myself getting them mixed up. The switch from the Greek letter/number designations to nicknames didn’t necessarily help, although it was clearly important thematically. I wish we’d gotten as much development out of at least some of them as we got with Petra and maybe Voxy—the story was powerful by itself, but it would have been more so if some of the other characters were more fleshed out.

All in all, a beautiful piece of sci-fi that reminds us that stories have the power to do anything—change us, teach us, and above all, unite us. 4 stars!

The Last Cuentista is a standalone, but Donna Barba Higuera is also the author of Lupe Wong Won’t Dance, as well as the picture books El Cucuy is Scared, Too! and the upcoming The Yellow Handkerchief.

Today’s song:

shuffle decided to hit me right in the 6th grade feels today, I see

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

Posted in Sunday Songs

Sunday Songs: 1/22/23

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

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

1/22/23? The month and the day add up to the year? You would think that would be somewhat auspicious. I wouldn’t know. I also saw a bunny on my walk to the dining hall this morning, so hopefully that should be some kind of Year of the Rabbit good luck. Happy Lunar New Year to all those who celebrate.

I’m back at school, and this week, I’ve already experienced a snow day on the second day of school and one of my professors saying that the whole class kinda “looked like the Mitski fan demographic” whenever somebody mentioned her and we all freaked out. He’s not wrong. Hello, LGBTQ community…

Anyways, we’re breaking away from the maroonish color scheme to bring you something more wintry this week. Fitting for the way-too-cold-for-my-liking temperatures we’re having over here.

Enjoy this week’s songs!

SUNDAY SONGS: 1/22/23

“Undo” – Björk

Vespertine is undoubtedly a winter album. Not in the “it’s January and everything looks dead” kind of way (which is entirely fair in this weather, honestly), but more in a way that recalls a cozy night in a warm house, snuggled up to the fireplace while watching a blizzard come down outside your window, knowing that your windows will be coated with frost by the time morning comes. There’s a resonant warmth that comes through with every track—which should be expected, with how much this album deals with the tender side of love. “Undo” seems to wrap you in an electronic embrace, combining an airy string section and a choir with skittering synths that recall a more hopeful “Kid A.” (puts said playlist transition in my metaphorical back pocket) At her very best, Björk can sweep me off my feet in an instant (see “Bachelorette”), but “Undo” is more of a gentle embrace, the slow wrapping of a scarf around your shoulders as you venture out into the cold.

“Grot” – St. Vincent

And speaking of songs that sweep me off my feet…

I’ve already talked about how much I appreciate different elements of a song coming together to form a seamless final product, but sometimes, the opposite can be just as powerful. “Grot” is all soft curves and razor-sharp edges with no in-between; the song open’s with a loop of Annie Clark’s delicate harmonizations, and by the next measure, industrial noise makes the song explode. Against the backdrop of her once light vocals, Annie Clark’s voice becomes commanding, biting in both its quality and lyricism—”Power doesn’t care what you want/power just wants to watch.” But just as quickly, the noise gradually fades away, the original loop circling back into focus as a string section gives it a more gentle backdrop, until all that’s left is the beginning of the song. “Grot” is proof of Annie Clark’s sheer power as a musician, and although she’s been my musical hero for years, this song makes me long for some future where she embraces the noisiness more. Not to say that everything else (excluding the utter betrayal that was MASSEDUCTION) that she’s done is near-flawless, but I want to see this side of her more.

“Really Really Light” – The New Pornographers

never forget the time The New Pornographers made kid’s merch

The news broke not long ago that The New Pornographers will be releasing a new album, Continue as a Guest (if there was ever a more New Pornographers-y name) at the end of March, with this song as the lead single. It feels like a welcome return to soul and form after their last album; In the Morse Code of Brake Lights was enjoyable, but ultimately, not exactly memorable. “Really Really Light,” however, glides along much like the ice skater in the music video, featherlike and brimming with brightness. It almost bubbles at the edges, the harmonies of A.C. Newman and Neko Case weaving together to make a song that feels lighter than air. Hopefully the rest of Continue as a Guest won’t disappoint—if it’s anything like this song, I think it’ll be a great album. I’ll hold out hope.

“Nobody” – Black Belt Eagle Scout

Another album coming out soon, this time from an artists with what’s absolutely one of the best band names of all time. After the sleepy, restrained melodies of Katherine Paul’s sophomore album, At the Party With My Brown Friends, the past few singles off of the upcoming The Land, The Water, The Sky have been a partial return to form—one that I’m absolutely excited for. The three singles off of the album thus far—“Don’t Give Up,” “My Blood Runs Through This Land,” and this—have reintroduced some fantastic guitars, making for a driving, uplifting sound that gives her sound all of the power it deserves. “Nobody” in particular is a nearly 5-minute chunk of alternative greatness, filled with soaring guitars and Paul’s voice, simultaneously airy and full of power and purpose. Lyrically, it deals with Paul’s relationship with Native American representation, especially in the music industry, making the chorus all the more powerful. “Nobody sang it for me/Like I wanna sing it to you.” Amen.

“(Joe Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends [But Says This Isn’t a Problem]” – Car Seat Headrest

This title: hilarious in concept, cumbersome when you’re trying to squeeze increasingly tiny text into a small box. Thanks a bunch, Will. What a guy.

“Drugs With Friends” was an unexpected blast from the past on my shuffle not too long ago, and I am all the better for it. Teens of Denial remains one of my favorite albums of all time, and the second this song started playing, I was transported back to the summer before high school, painting teal over the hot pink walls of my room and devouring Heart of Iron in a hotel room on vacation in Chicago. I often end up overlooking this song just because of how earthshatteringly wonderful tracks like “Cosmic Hero,” “Fill In the Blank,” and “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” are, but it boasts just as much merit as any other song on the album. Leave it to Will Toledo to turn a tale of feeling monumentally miserable at a party (and making a series of questionable, acid-induced decisions all the while) into an instantly catchy indie song that would be impossible not to jump up and down to at a concert. Even in more irreverent songs like this, Toledo’s voice has a healing quality to it (and no, I’m not saying that because I had a massive crush on him in 8th grade…okay, maybe I am), moving like honey through the cacophony of guitars and noise. What an album, really.

Anyways, I really hope Will Toledo’s doing okay these days. Long COVID is no joke. I miss Car Seat Headrest.

Since this whole post consists of all songs, consider all 5 to be today’s song.

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

Posted in Music

A (Possibly Mutable) List of my Top 10 Favorite Albums

Posted on by madeline @ The Bookish Mutant

Happy Thursday, bibliophiles!

I’ve been meaning to semi-solidify this list (for now) for quite a while, but I think it was looking back through Hundreds & Thousands of Books’ post about her top 10 albums that sparked the idea in me to make a post about it, so thank you!

Even though this blog is primarily about books, I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that music has had an equally profound effect on my life. Raised by two music nerds, I grew up listening to tons of Beatles and Bowie, and as I grew older, I began to mark periods of my life by the music I listened to. But there are always certain albums that leave an unmistakable mark on our lives. Some of mine have been steadfast favorites, and others I’ve only discovered in the past few months. All of them, however, have had a profound effect on me, whether it’s just been the experiencing something that’s just so, so good or marking a specific period in my life. So here are, right now, my 10 favorite albums.

Let’s begin, shall we?

🎵THE BOOKISH MUTANT’S TOP 10 FAVORITE ALBUMS🎵

10. Snail Mail – Lush (2018)

The summer of 2018 was a strange one for me—the summer before high school, and the summer I started seriously questioning my sexuality. I have Lush to thank for getting me through a lot of it, with Lindsey Jordan’s soaring guitar riffs and searingly vulnerable lyrics shining through in a debut like no other. Snail Mail is partially what inspired me to pick up the guitar—and I definitely think meeting her at a show that summer when I was a wee bisexual did something to my pubescent brain that I wouldn’t recover from…💀

Favorite Track: “Heat Wave”

9. Super Furry Animals – Rings Around the World (2001)

I remember hearing tracks like “Sidewalk Serfer Girl” and “(Drawing) Rings Around the World” from when I was about 5, but it wasn’t until this March that I appreciated this masterpiece of an album in its entirety. Something that makes me love a piece of media—be it a book, a movie, an album, or anything else—that much more is that if there’s clear evidence of how much love and care was put into it. And it’s blatantly evident here—Rings Around the World is brimming with creativity, and through all of the genres of music they explore, there isn’t a single miss. There’s something so fully-formed about it, like it just came into the world like Athena bursting forth from the skull of Zeus.

Favorite track: “No Sympathy”

8. Wilco – Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2001)

This album’s one that’s been a constant in my life; Wilco is one of my dad’s favorite bands, and I’ve been hearing them for so long that they’ve become inextricably linked to my personal history. (Wilco was my first concert, at the age of 8!) But this album in particular is the most special of theirs to me; like Rings Around the World, I’ve been listening to isolated songs from it for years, but the whole album is a true work of art, sonically and lyrically immersive and always emotionally moving and potent.

Favorite track(s): oh, man, this is hard…

I’ve settled on a three-way tie between “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” “Ashes of American Flags,” and “Reservations.”

7. Car Seat Headrest – Teens of Denial (2016)

Another gem from the summer of 2018, this one always brings to mind dozens of fond memories—seeing Car Seat Headrest live (and subsequently tainting all of my concert videos from my off-key scream-singing), repainting my room, going on vacation in Chicago. Car Seat Headrest have been a favorite of mine since around 8th grade, but the more I think about it, the more Teens of Denial in particular stands out as my favorite album—clever, vulnerable, raw, and perfect for 14-year-old me to scream along to.

Favorite track: “Cosmic Hero”

6. The Beatles – The White Album (1968)

I guess I’ve got a theme going with the red and white album covers? I don’t think it holds up later in the list…

As I said earlier, I was undoubtably raised on the Beatles; some of my earliest memories are of hearing songs like “Good Day Sunshine” and “Yellow Submarine” in the car, and I’ve adored them ever since. I’ve flip-flopped between albums for a favorite Beatles album for years, and it feels like it changes with my mood; some days, it was Revolver, other times it was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. But between having some of my favorite Beatles songs of all time and the solace it gave me in the early days of quarantine, The White Album takes the top spot for me—I think “I’m So Tired” is my most played song on my whole iTunes library. (somehow I’ve played it over 2,500 times?? didn’t even know I was capable of such a thing 💀)

Favorite track(s): tie between “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “I’m So Tired”

5. Spiritualized – Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space (1997)

I fell in love with Spiritualized, as a lot of people seemed to do, after hearing the title track, “Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.” Ever since then, they’ve held a truly special place in my heart; I rediscovered them in quarantine, and this album in particular has held a top spot for me ever since. Despite all the abject heartbreak, addiction, and general melancholy present through this album (and all of J. Spaceman’s music), there’s a cosmic, immersive quality to his music that swallows me like a wave with every song. Listening to Spiritualized is more than just music—it’s an experience in and of itself.

Favorite track: “Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space”

4. Blur – 13 (1999)

another heartbreak album comin’ atcha…

Like Super Furry Animals, I’ve been hearing scattered Blur songs throughout my childhood, “Song 2,” “Coffee & TV,” and “Charmless Man” being standouts. But it wasn’t until last summer that I got back into Blur—really into Blur. (You all witnessed the Blurification of this blog last year…) There’s something instantly hooking about their songs—the clever lyrics, the punchy guitars that seem to burst out of your headphones. But 13 is uniquely special to me; it was my musical companion in a strange, transitionary period of my life (the beginning of senior year and being a legal adult…somehow?). Beyond that, it’s so clear that so much time and love went into this record—through every high and low, there’s a consistent resonance that you can feel in your chest. It’s a masterpiece. It’s an album that I’ve come back to ever since when I’ve felt low—there’s a healing quality to it.

Favorite track: “Tender”—also my favorite song of all time, at the moment

3. St. Vincent – St. Vincent (2014)

adding another white album cover to the mix, I guess?

St. Vincent, without a doubt, is responsible for shaping some of my most formative years. Middle school was a weird time for me—I was struggling with friendships, forming my identity, and getting teased for the things I loved so passionately. And here was St. Vincent, this confident, ridiculously talented musician who wielded her guitar like a sword into battle. So you can imagine how I got attached to her. Even if MASSEDUCTION made me lose a little faith in her for a few years, she’ll always remain as a hero of mine, and St. Vincent in particular will always be a daring, fierce masterpiece that sweeps me off my feet every time—and the album that got me through 6th grade.

Favorite track: “Bad Believer” (on the deluxe edition), “Severed Crossed Fingers” (on the original edition)

2. Radiohead – OK Computer (1997)

and another white album cover? sort of?

Yeah, okay. I fully admit that my toxic trait is genuinely enjoying certain kinds of male manipulator music. But Radiohead will always be an immensely special band to me. “The Daily Mail” was my first exposure to them (thanks, Legion!), but OK Computer opened my eyes to something I’d never experienced before—or, something that I’d overlooked before, but now fully appreciate. Like Spiritualized, every Radiohead song is a fleshed-out landscape, an experience that lifts you off your feet, even when the lyrics are unbearably heartbreaking. OK Computer is an album that I wish I could listen to for the first time again—it’s an unforgettable, dystopian masterpiece, and it’s proved itself to stand the test of time.

Favorite track: “Paranoid Android”

  1. David Bowie – Hunky Dory (1971)
I guess there’s a slight pattern on here with tan album covers too?

And here it is: my favorite album of all time.

David Bowie has been a constant companion in my life; one of my earliest memories that I can think of is hearing “Kooks” in the car. He’s been another hero of mine for years—again, he came to me in middle school, at a time when I was an outsider and unsure of myself, and stood as a glaring reminder to be myself—no matter what. This album in particular is, in my opinion, a perfect album; there isn’t a single bad song, and each one is a world of its own, spinning lyrical tales that span from the cosmic to the tender and everything in between. It’s an album I always come back to, and one that I’ll always hold close. Some of the other albums lower on the list may change or switch orders over the course of my life, but I doubt I’ll ever come across something quite as stellar as this.

Favorite track(s): Tie between “Quicksand” and “Life On Mars?”

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Have you listened to any of these albums, and if so, did you like them? What are some of your favorite albums? Let me know in the comments!

Today’s song:

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