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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Someone mind explaining what's going on in the U.K.'s underground Rock scene right now? Because it's imperative. In a one year span, record label Speedy Wunderground has produced black midi (Schlagenheim), Black Country New Road, and now Squid, all three inspired by the same Art Punk and Art Rock sources of the 80's despite vastly different approaches. Unlike the other two bands' weighty tones and glum outlooks, Squid provide effervescent release through the cacophony of off-kilter instrumentation and wacky vocals. Parallels can and have been drawn to Talking Heads, Devo, and LCD Soundsystem, with some dashes of Pere Ubu and This Heat thrown in. The bulk of those culminate on Town Centre's not-so subtle standout; 'The Cleaner,' a fantastic work of complex Dance-Punk rife with layered segments and capricious lyrics.
Interestingly enough, Town Centre's other three tracks don't abide by the same formula, but rather invite their own unique edges, forming the whole of Squid. These don't perform as well, as the slow-moving Dark Ambient dirge of 'Savage' strongly hints at another style altogether, before 'Match Bet' emerges in rather standard fashion. This one resembles Black Country New Road's artsy bombast, combining Krautrock drums, Math Rock guitars, and Jazz Fusion brass for a claustrophobic listen that only differs in structural approach. Then there's 'Rodeo' which deviates entirely, bridging the gap between those two songs with unbound patterns of noodling fixated on an excellent centerpiece that's far, far too short. Overall a promising EP that hints at something greater to come.
C+
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Given how perpetual new music is in my life, it's rare to find something totally original. Maybe I've been looking in the wrong corners, or maybe Book Of Traps & Lessons is entirely singular. Music and poetry go hand-in-hand, or at least they used to. As the divide goes stronger, between these two art forms and the world at large, Kate Tempest makes a conscious decision to reunite in hopes of achieving harmony. The result is an impeccably-sincere, sparse, and simple take on the fracturing human condition. On Book Of Traps & Lessons, Tempest - who most recently appeared in immense form on The Comet Is Coming's 'Blood Of The Past' - dissects the individual elements that make us whole, analyzing and appreciating them under a microscope before assimilating them to the world at large. Whether it's hegemony as a preface for love ('I Trap You'), post-revolution survival ('Keep Moving Don't Move'), sexual tension and release ('Firesmoke'), or religion crumbling under the weight of modernity ('Holy Elixir'), Tempest is there, writing with precision that's both unwavering and fragile, deafening and observant.
While Tempest's lyrics do well in sating a provocative mind, the choice of minimal, one-note production takes Book Of Traps & Lessons up another notch. There's a clean aura, like a candle meant to rule out all unpleasant stenches, as Tempest takes the primary position with only the slightest layer of beauty forming around her. That's excluding 'All Humans Too Late,' which is entirely Spoken Word and unsurprisingly the album's least engaging cut because of it. Everywhere else, be it the uneasy synth drone of 'Thirsty,' the funeral keyboard on 'Hold Your Own,' or the exquisite piano medley on 'People's Faces,' comes equip with one noticeable sonic substance for listeners to meditate inertly alongside. Even the more involved choices, like 'Three Sided Coin,' 'I Trap You,' and 'Firesmoke' are nothing more than torn down Hip-Hop loops, all vibrating on totally causative frequencies.
One last note about Book Of Traps & Lessons that sets the LP apart from any nearby competitors; The immaculate pacing. This is seen most predominantly in the first half, wherein five straight songs flow seamlessly into one another, culminating in the jaw-dropping shift to 'I Trap You.' Some, like the juxtaposition between 'Keep Moving Don't Move' and 'Brown Eyed Man,' crash headfirst into correlative ideas with a single strand maintaining semblance, while others, like 'Holy Elixir' to 'People's Faces,' use a lengthy dissolve to bridge the gap. I'm unsure as to Tempest's decision here, as the pacing slowly expands as the LP moves onwards, but the decision to link each of the 11 songs is genius and far, far underutilized in album construction. Just one of the many reasons why Books Of Traps & Lessons is a marvel achievement.
A-
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2019 | Electro-Industrial | Listen
POP FOR MASOCHISTS, SADISTS, AND DEMENTED PERVERTS
An acquired taste for most, a palate cleanser to Metal for me. What Uniform and The Body - two bands I'm totally unfamiliar with - do here would likely get them shunned from the aforementioned genre since Everything That Dies Someday Comes Back effectively makes a mockery of the insatiably-deranged styles prevalent in such glum art. Combined with the cheeky commitment to Electro-Industrial, even going so far as to including Chopped N' Screwed on 'Day Of Atonement,' it's hard to take Chip King's unpleasant cries for help seriously. But that, to me, is the point. Everything That Dies is so overt in its commitment to assimilating the Coil, Psychic TV, Throbbing Gristles of the world to Pop formality that one can't help but relish in the swank excess.
Problem being, once the LP picks up steam following the construction of 'Gallows In Heaven' - which climaxes with an outrageously good guitar riff - much of the patterns and formulas confide to safe places, despite the harsh sounds. Perhaps Uniform & The Body's pledge to Pop ideals went too far, as only 'Patron Saint Of Regret' and 'Waiting For The End Of The World' differ in tone and approach. The former, featuring SRSQ, is my personal favorite because of the unexpected female vocals that take Chelsea Wolfe to an echelon she was never able to achieve. As for 'Waiting For The End Of The World,' well that's obvious. Just listen to it, because you damn well sure won't find anything else like it.
Ignoring the bouts that stray from the expected path, Everything That Dies still succeeds because, despite the predictable vibe throughout, the quality is some of the most consistent of 2019. There isn't a bad track. If you like one you'll like them all. Some of the most drastic, like 'Vacancy' and 'Penance,' invoke a level of dance club pandemonium one could only imagine in the world of Mad Max. Just replace the dust with sawdust, the gas with grime.
B-
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2019 | Deep House | Listen
RHYTHMS FOR ABSTINENT DANCERS UP PAST THEIR BEDTIME
Aptly title the prophetic I Know You Like It, Shinichiro Yokota's moment in the spotlight has finally arrived. Along with Soichi Terada, who rose Far East Recordings to prominence in 2015 with his compilation Sounds From The Far East, the two have pioneered Japan's unique take on American-bred Deep House. I Know You Like It is the first major reveal to the masses of new content, bridging a gap both physical and generational. There's undoubtedly a recognizable flavor here, one that merges easygoing House rhythms and loops with Japan's knack for flirtatious, excessively cutesy aesthetic. Tracks like 'I Know You Like It It,' 'Take Yours,' and 'Simoon' best exemplify this free-spirited, dance floor naivety.
Unfortunately I Know You Like It is held back from greatness due to the sheer simplicity. Not because of Shinichiro Yokota's lack of talent, but rather the lengths in which minimal progression occurs. Every song apart from the melodious, double-sided 'Lens (1992)' exceeds five minutes, and none of them - apart from the excellent 'Simoon' which branches out from the norm with sparse, autotune vocals - deserves to be that length. Some, like 'Time Traveling' and 'Night Drive 2.0,' are fully revealed within seconds, causing the remaining six minutes of quirky, saccharine drum kit beats to stagnant and dull. It's a shame for the aesthetic and atmosphere of clean, minimal composition works wonders. Think elevator music for a future society devoid of dilemma.
C-
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2019 | Experimental Hip-Hop | Listen
TWITTER REINCARNATED AS A HUMAN; CHAOTIC NEUTRAL
Whether it's deserved or not, JPEGMAFIA spurs discussion like few others in Hip-Hop. His contentious brand of anarchic camp, rife with neoteric commentaries both highbrow and low, are a source for analytical art both humorous and sobering. All My Heroes Are Cornballs is his greatest statement yet, following the outrageous, Glitch-laden outlaw urbanity of Veteran. Here, Peggy takes things up a notch, providing bottomless claustrophobia through 45 raucous minutes, ripening his already-solidified identity with peculiar, chic Sound Collage strewn about the 18 tracks. One unaccustomed to his style could easily be left dumbfounded that such brandished, pugnacious art is even possible. Yet here we are. The inconsistency left in the midst of explosive extremity ('Grimy Waifu,' 'BBW,' 'Lifes Hard, Here's A Song About Sorrel,' 'Dots Freestyle Remix') are the only things preventing All My Heroes Are Cornballs from being labelled an Experimental Hip-Hop classic.
Despite underachieving just mildly, due largely to JPEGMAFIA's futile attempts at salacious R&B, the LP could become a major point of influence, much akin to Death Grips' Money Store or Kanye West's Yeezus. It's just that progressive in layout, tone, and liberation, providing a sense of acceptance for mental instability. It's an unfortunate side effect of Peggy's need to overwhelm, but All My Heroes Are Cornballs' best section is its first; The phenomenal, utterly surreal four-track run from 'Jesus Forgive Me, I Am A Thot' to 'JPEGMAFIA TYPE BEAT.' As an EP, its only competition in that format would be Denzel Curry's 13. From there on, outlook is rocky with gripping highs and delusional lows. As predicted, Peggy's much better as a rapper than a singer, sliding off the rails on tracks like 'Grimy Waifu,' 'Thot Tactics,' and 'BasicBitchTearGas,' with his irritable vocals and droopy R&B production. This, somehow, someway, excludes 'Free The Frail,' and bless Peggy's (and Helena Deland) ability to do so. It is bar none one of the best Alternative R&B songs in recent memory, with a hook that never ceases to astound me in terms of simplicity and candor.
A lot can be said about All My Heroes Are Cornballs, but it's better to be appreciated. One could, and maybe should, criticize the LP's potential to be a time capsule of an era known for its ephemeral nature. Will it age well or be mocked for conceding to meme culture? Who's to say, but right now All My Heroes Are Cornballs is a fascinating, never-ending feed that perplexes just as much as it captivates.
B+
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As Jenny Hval fans have grown accustomed to, The Practice Of Love takes a decidedly different tone than her preceding album. In this case, 2016's Blood Bitch, which combined pagan cult theory and tense, convoluted synthesizers to elicit a depiction of the female anatomy. In the modern era of music alternative or otherwise, Hval's philosophical musings hold no comparison. Her mellifluous dreamscapes analyze social psyche with unpronounced ease, and The Practice Of Love is no different, finding Hval engaging in profound discourse on the topic of intimacy and creation. Here, she uses multiple vocalists (Vivian Wang, Felicia Atkinson & Laura Jean) to create communal opinion, which comes out most heavily in the three-track run of 'Accident,' 'The Practice Of Love,' and 'Ashes To Ashes' wherein the topic of reproduction takes shape, especially to those - like Hval - on the outside looking in, canvassing her curtailed lineage in the family tree.
Suffice to say, the lyrical and grand thematic concepts of Practice Of Love are top notch, with Hval's songwriting talents maintaining posture and distinction ever since 2011's Viscera. Sonically, Practice Of Love elaborates on the soft elegance of last year's EP The Long Sleep, finding a more sensual, hypnagogic tone through the rush of sensory layers. Her work with Kelly Lee Owens can be seen on tracks like 'High Alice' and 'Six Red Cannes,' where alacritous Trance overtakes the background through tempered puissance that owes a great deal to early 90's acts like The Orb, System 7, and Biosphere. However, my preference lies in the unfurling tracks like 'Ashes To Ashes' - one of Hval's best works, falling just behind the spectacular 'Spells' - and 'Ordinary,' the lengthy closer whose majesty takes shape through procession. The droning horns (or synthesizers, I'm not quite sure) are a marvel in holy Ambient Pop and one of the more pleasurable sounds I've heard all year. The only place Practice Of Love falters is its title track, for predictable reasons that all point back to being three minutes of overlapping Spoken Word, and 'Thumbsucker,' which is perhaps a tad too indiscernible and vague for an album that handles that style with substance and definition. Everything else is lovely, textured, mature Art Pop.
B
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