What's a Listening Log? Well, the idea is quite simple. It's a weekly segment that consolidates all the mini-reviews Dozens Of Donuts has given on RateYourMusic over the past week, split between the Past and Present. A straightforward grading scale has been put in place, ranging from A+ to F-, with C acting as the baseline average. There is no set amount of reviews per week, just however many I get around to reviewing. And don't expect week-of reviews. I wait one month - with at least three listens under my belt - before I rate and review an album. Enjoy!
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Now, Transangellic Exodus is the only Ezra Furman album I've heard so who's to say he wasn't capable of an album like Twelve Nudes beforehand. Still, with my limited knowledge, the transformation from diffident, Indie Rock queer to badgering, vexed convalescent was quite startling. The effectiveness at which he ascertains this Garage Punk flamboyance can't be understated, which has me leaning towards experience in the field for Furman because, like, those strident vocals don't just come from nowhere.
Right off the bat, Twelve Nudes hits you with a powerhouse in the form of 'Calm Down Aka I Should Not Be Alone.' It's a great opener to the thematic and sonic elements of the LP, as Furman's inconsistent mental state takes a precedent role over raucous, 'Sympathy For The Devil'-like Blues Rock. It's the best here, but don't fret on the ensuing ten tracks as Twelve Nudes is thoroughly entertaining from start to finish. What it lacks in Transangellic Exodus' noted highs ('Suck The Blood From My Wound,' 'No Place,' 'I Lost My Innocence') it makes up for in sheer consistency.
Apart from the needless, one-minute 'Blown,' everything deserves placement here. Be it the tantalizing Folk Punk of 'Thermometer' and 'My Teeth Hurt,' whose closest modern-day competitors - Titus Andronicus - doesn't exemplify how cool these songs are. 'Transition From Nowhere To Nowhere' sounds plucked from Deerhunter's late-stage era, as Furman channels his inner-most Bradford Cox. Even the straight-forward Garage Punk, 'Evening Prayer Aka Justice' and 'Rated R Crusaders,' are deliberate and incisive, making up in energy and passion what they lack in Furman's knack for songwriting and artistry, something we also see on later tracks 'I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend' and 'In America.' Overall, Twelve Nudes is another solid LP that inches dangerously close to greatness.
B
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According to their RYM page, Sadness have made upwards of 20 albums since their inception in 2014. Deafheaven's influential Sunbather came out in 2013. Safe to say, their morphed Blackgaze made quite the lasting impression on Sadness. Ironic enough that their breakout LP five years in the making, I Want To Be There, features a predominantly pink cover as well. Needless to say the comparisons are apparent, juxtaposing gargantuan walls of sound with atmospheric passages of fleeting tranquility, falling and rising like the ebb and flow of nature's 24-hour cycle. As is typical with Shoegaze's primary tactic of assertion, the gravity and magnitude of Sadness' wall of sound doesn't grow stale regardless of how often they visit that promised land of Noise. The predictable patterns in which they reach their destination, on the other hand, is what holds I Want To Be There back.
That and the poor mixing which, while likely intended, compresses sounds already created for the sole reason of doing so. Every aspect, be it the textbook Post-Metal or stirring Ambient passages, feel saran wrapped against their will, encased in a thick layer of ambivalence as if being forced to muster an aura. It's successful, just not wholly natural. Apart from the Tim Hecker-esque interlude 'Moments,' which can easily be forgotten, everything else is on a level playing field. My go-to moments are those in which peculiarities stand out; 'I Want To Be With You' and 'You Dance Like The June Sky.' The former due to its commitment to a children's choir, something that would be deemed irrevocably uncool in the genre's Sadness affiliates themselves with. The latter because the progression towards explosion is paced brilliantly, with a rickety piano and cold ambience veering towards The Caretaker.
C
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2019 | Conscious Hip-Hop | Listen
VIRTUOUS STORIES OF FAMILIAL LOVE FROM PREACHER MAN
Common has to be the most morally-abiding rapper in existence right? His transformation to respectable black leader, almost to the point of self-mockery (those commercials where he preaches about god knows what) can neither be praised nor scolded, for what he's doing - as evidenced by Let Love - constitutes a level of harmlessness that witnesses humanity's unsettled moral compass without interfering. By that modus, Let Love is a collection of stories that feel passed down by generations of a tight-knit family. In other words, it's perfect for old-heads of Hip-Hop, a throwback to Common's prime era when lyrics were treated as Gospel.
And speaking of Gospel, there's plenty to be had here. Is it preachy? Absolutely. Is it attempting in a futile effort to solve all humanities problems with God? A bit, yeah. Does Common have nothing else to talk about? No, there's plenty non-religious people could enjoy here. Problem being, there's not too much music-heads could enjoy, as the production is - more often than not - reclusive and timid, afraid to stand out and take the spotlight. Tracks like 'HER Love,' 'Fifth Story,' and 'Leaders (Crib Love)' have instrumentals devoid of character and heart, just going about the motions of Neo-Soul-infused Hip-Hop. Some, like 'Hercules' and 'My Fancy Free Future Love,' stand out more so, displaying a level of energy and excitement not found anywhere else.
That divide makes sense though, as Common's always been about the lyrics. On Let Love, the bag is mixed. He stumbles over phrases and teetering flows ('Hercules,' 'Memories Of Home') as much as he impresses with vivid storytelling ('Show Me That You Love') and creative writing ('HER Love's' rapper-centric verse). Thankfully, Let Love picks up steam with its last four tracks, all of which are the LP's best excluding 'HER Love.' The spacious, endearing 'Show Me That You Love' is one of Common's best tracks in a minute, while the certified Gospel closer 'God Is Love' defeats cliche songwriting with gorgeous vocals on behalf of Leon Bridges and Jonathan McReynolds, and drums on behalf of Karriem Riggins.
C-
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2019 | Power Pop | Listen
THROWING THE KITCHEN SINK INTO THE KITCHEN SINK
There's a six-road roundabout interloping traffic from six, outrageously varied destinations. On one road comes Sufjan Stevens. Another My Chemical Romance. The last four; Islands, Cornelius, The World Is A Beautiful Place, and of Montreal. Standing in the center of this stop light-less rotary is Glass Beach and their debut The First Glass Beach Album; A fascinating conglomerate of ideas both rich and poor, exciting and dull. The motley crew of influences - a list that, by the way, could've kept going (Queen, Weezer, The Go! Team, Animal Collective, etc) - combines Power Pop, Indie Rock, Midwest Emo, Neo-Psychedelia, and more in an attempt to, I don't know, define the band and their ultra-niche preferences. It's as if Glass Beach and their Indie-glamorizing ways couldn't pair down an identity to exist upon, deciding instead to incorporate it all.
The result is, predictably, all over the place. This is not necessarily a criticism, as the songwriting, maximalist production, unbound structuring, and playful whimsy, all attest to Glass Beach's potential as Indie starlings. If they're able to hone in and not over-indulge. 59 minutes of scattershot stylings, which even goes so far as to include Ambient passages ('(Forever?????????),' '(Blood Rivers)'), does become exhausting, especially in the lowly middle portion of the album where casio dad and company lose themselves in fatigued extremism.
Once 'Dallas' rears its head, consistency and enjoyability is ramped up once again. For an interlude, '(Rat Castle)' is an absolute blast with marvelous, eastern psychedelia. 'Yoshi's Island' flutters with ravenous melody and excited panic, while 'Orchids' winds things down with theatrical sentimentality much akin to 2000's Pop Punk of yore. However, despite a reestablished second half, nothing beats the fascinating opener 'classic j dies and goes to hell, Pt. 1' where Glass Beach's expansive style is not only on full display, but totally fresh in the eye of the beholder. That song alone makes The First Glass Beach Album worthwhile.
B-
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The Tea Club's If / When plays like an album that should be far more popular than it is. Sure, Progressive Rock isn't the trendiest genre in 2019, but there's no denying the quality on display. For starters, production quality alone is something to marvel at, be it the boundless acoustic space of 'The Way You Call' or the grueling, near-Metal prowess of 'Rivermen.' Or, just seep into the 27 minutes of 'Creature' and experience it all at once. Seriously, that behemoth is essentially the Rock version of Sufjan Stevens' 'Impossible Soul,' forever mutating, never relying on the all-too trigger-happy Drone to compensate for the length. Secondly, the vocalists are crisp, sparring between frail and authoritative, and their lyrics contain a satisfying amount of intrigue and exposition.
Sadly, If / When really is an album far past its expired date. That doesn't necessarily apply a sonic crutch, but it certainly does in terms of being able to appreciate The Tea Club's venture in originality. Or lack thereof. Pink Floyd is written all across the LP, to the point where one wouldn't question if If / When was a spiritual successor to Wish You Were Here. The harmonious battle between Folk and Rock, the sheer ambition in dreamlike storytelling, and the advanced form of Rock composition all retract their steps back to the influential group. Influential era I should say, as Queen can clearly be heard on personal favorite (along with 'Creature') 'Say Yes.' The duality between vigorous and fragile play exquisitely on the uptempo endeavor.
C+
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Ed Balloon's debut The Dubs finds the upstart, Massachusetts native flamboyantly parading around trendy genres with adapt swagger and confidence. This means, there's a chance he'll breakthrough. It'll just take one notable co-sign and hit single, and despite my adoration of Open Mike Eagle (who appears on 'Missed Call') and 'Dreamworld,' Balloon ain't there yet. A problem plaguing countless debut artists in recent years appears on The Dubs, and that's the lack of a dedicated identity. Balloon merely adheres to the smorgasbord of genre-blending occurring, inspired by acts like James Blake, Blood Orange, or Syd. At times he tweaks off on peculiar Pop Rap similar to Cakes Da Killa or Joey Purp ('Edges'), other times he's amped up on Synth Funk akin to Steve Lacy or Anderson .Paak ('Dreamworld,' 'Square Up Annie').
These choices are sound, just not all too thought-provoking or necessary in each genre's respective landscapes. Where Balloon falters the most though comes on tracks like 'Lost Boys,' 'Du Rags In The Air,' and 'M'aider (Mayday)' where he invokes some out-of-touch Reggae and Dub. Combining this with the moodier tones presented simultaneously; Safe to say it doesn't pan out well. Not to mention the forced, accentuated vocals don't help matters. For now, snag 'Dreamworld,' take a gander at They Hate Change on 'Missed Call' if you're a Brockhampton fan, and jive to the near-hit 'Edges.'
D+
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2019 | Indietronica | Listen
TRYING TO EMOTE AMOUR WITHOUT THE MEANS TO DO SO
As with all of their projects, YACHT comes into Chain Tripping with a concept. This time around it's assistance from a secondary source, one inherently not human. See, everything besides Claire Evans' vocals and lyrics come directly from the soulless, processing power of a computer. The idea, while quite gimmicky, was sound and could've renewed creativity in the dying band and sparked discussion elsewhere. Unfortunately, Evans and Jona Bechtolt simply retreat to their Indietronica confines, while avoiding the social commentaries from 2015's I Thought The Future Would Be Cooler in the process.
It's ironic, and all too predictable, that enlisting a robot to complete the task of Dance production resulted in lifeless, robotic beats. There's no human connection, which was likely YACHT's intention, causing would-be intoxicating grooves to be replaced by callous pandering on behalf of machines trying to instill art without a soul. Evans, especially during Chain Tripping's first half, tries to combat this with altered falsettos and catchy one-liners, resulting in the album's best three songs: '(Downtown) Dancing,' 'SCATTERHEAD,' and 'Blue On Blue.' Those all invoke the YACHT of yore; The days of See Mystery Lights. Unfortunately the second half, and more precisely the songs without as strong a tempo or as fickle a pace, like 'Sad Money,' 'California Dali,' and 'Little Instant,' grind the relative fun to a complete halt.
It doesn't help that Evans makes no progressive statements, controversial or otherwise, during the course of Chain Tripping. YACHT seems entirely content with Pop music's triviality, despite having a potential goldmine putting robots in charge of their fate as musicians.
D+
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