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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2019 | Post-Punk | Listen
TEARING OUT YOUR INSIDES, LOOKING FOR A BROKEN HEART
You wanna talk about poor timing. To come on the heels of Fontaines D.C.'s excellent April debut Dogrel with more faithful Post-Punk revivalism native to the United Kingdom, and helmed by a lead singer who bears a striking resemblance tonally and verbally to Fontaines' Grian Chatten, is unfortunate. That's not to say When I Have Fears lacks in the quality department though, just that the buzz has been culled, the similarities pronounced. Where Murder Capital differ from Fontaines D.C. lies in the sub-genre, as the former evokes 80's Gothic Rock sulk, as the latter feels more relevant to the 2010's through provocative Indie Rock.
There's understated, though potentially reductive variety here as well. On the surface, a distinction between soft and hard dynamics becomes apparent. However, within those parameters we find some unusual comparative points. Like 'Don't Cling To Life' which brings with it the momentous uptempo strife of LCD Soundsystem, or the mournful drawl of 'How The Streets Adore Me Now' taking Matt Berninger and The National even further down their morose path. Even the two-part 'Slowdance' evokes numerous Post-Rock outfits like Hex or Do Make Say Think, just with the grudge and gloom of The Cure. Consistency is a selling point of When I Have Fears, with 'On Twisted Ground' being the only song to stand out with its melodious groove and dramatic gravity. There are a couple weaker points though, two that end the LP in 'How The Streets Adore Me Now' and 'Love, Love Love,' but most prominent is 'More Is Less' if only for the reason that it's a poorly-constructed IDLES recreation. Overall a structurally sound Post-Punk LP from a band whose potential could reach higher if they loosened the death grip on formalities.
B-
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What a gem from the Republic of Congo. Rather than fuse Africa's rich musical language with trendy genres of the western world, KOKOKO's debut Fongola does the exact opposite, bringing tasteful Electro-inspired grooves back to their homeland. Like the circle intersecting all on the cover, we've come full circle from the days of Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Pop Group, and A Certain Ratio borrowing the uptempo, multi-rhythmic tribal drums, as KOKOKO! here takes the artistic erudition from those aforementioned bands to help build Fongola's rich exterior. Of course there's a modern touch, as the Electronic weightlessness feels comparable to Jamie Xx ('Buka Dansa'), Clap! Clap! ('Azo Toke'), or even M.I.A. ('L.O.V.E.'), while some strong Footwork akin to Jlin or Four Tet carries itself throughout the album.
Really fun, engaging dance music with the one caveat being its inability to maintain that vigor and creativity with 43 minutes. The first half, containing every notable standout ('Likolo,' 'Azo Toke,' 'Buka Dansa,' and 'L.O.V.E.'), is vastly superior to that of the second half where the only interesting digression occurs during 'Singa's' slow-moving build. It's Synth Punk stripped of percussion, creating quite the atmospheric experience. Otherwise the final five tracks either retread down similar paths or fail to expand beyond KOKOKO's parameters. It is a tad bit noiser towards the end, best seen on 'Tongos'a' and 'Zala Mayele,' but that direction falls flat thanks to the sound's tempered state and KOKOKO's fundamental abundance elsewhere detracting from the inclusion. Fongola's still a blast of an album, just one that would've benefited from a reduced duration.
C+
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2019 | Synthpop | Listen
WAR-TORN APOCALYPSE THROUGH ANIME'S RABID FOLLY
As is customary, Kero Kero Bonito have introduced a new edge to their futuristic brand of Synthpop. In Civilisation I it's the acute sensation of prickly synthesizers, otherwise known as Bitpop, used to further beautify Kero Kero Bonito's saccharine state. While the music itself doesn't exactly entice - failing to achieve Time 'n' Place's clairvoyance in almost every way - the distinction made between Sarah Bonito's heavily-sweetened presence and the post-apocalyptic language is unique in how jarring it is. Each of the three tracks - 'Battle Lines,' 'When The Fires Come,' and 'The River' - deal with the expectations and ramifications of war. But done so with averted veracity much akin to Kero Kero Bonito's primary aesthetic influence; Anime. Can't really see myself returning to this, despite the intrigue. The sounds at times, especially 'When The Fires Come' and its kazoo, are too childishly grating.
C-
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If there's ever proof that Brockhampton's success came from their production it would be this. At one point Ameer Vann was the group's staple rapper, consistently eclipsing those around him. A solo project - despite the controversy surrounding his Brockhampton departure - could've rectified his career in niche Hip-Hop circles off sheer talent. A talent which, apparently, has left Vann with the egression of fame. Helped not by the feeble Trap beats one could find off any Soundcloud producer's portfolio. Similarities are felt to Schoolboy Q without the chi-chi, Pusha T without the confidence, and Flatbush Zombies without the vigor. This can be seen on Emmanuel's best track 'Glock 19,' for improvements would've been had had Vann not presented himself as a wimpy emcee pretending to flex with the best of them.
There's not much else to be said about Emmanuel. It's a flaccid return that aspires to zero impact, riding the coattails of trendsetters without the means of surpassing them. I do appreciate the Big Boi 'Kryptonite' interpolation on 'Sunday Night' though, and 'Emmanuel's' brooding, minimal beat drives an interesting aesthetic that's quickly abandoned in favor of formalities.
D
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Jeff Tweedy has always personified Americana as a sequestered retreat where problems can be explored through calm, sensible discussion. Though detours exist, namely on the concept masterpiece Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and, more recently, the sonic diversion Star Wars, Wilco's lenitive brand of Indie Rock has always felt therapeutic. Ode To Joy is no different, as Tweedy lacquers emotionally-tame critiques on the potholes of humanity over straightforward, oftentimes pleasant Alt-Country that exists to quell fears through sheer harmlessness. The result of which - as with most Wilco projects - is admirable and enjoyable but rarely goes beyond the threshold to memorable.
Out of Ode To Joy's eleven tracks, a plethora ride the fine line of adequacy. Tracks like 'One & A Half Stars,' 'Everyone Hides,' and 'Love Is Everywhere (Beware)' all proudly flaunt the Wilco mantra of unwinding grace with a pinch of refined gusto. Rarely do we find the band attempting unusual feats, with 'Bright Leaves' and 'Quiet Amplifier' the only to reject conventional structuring in place of a musing build. The latter's execution is much more effective, and is a key example of Wilco's usage of heavy, wooden drums. It's the one thing that allows Ode To Joy tracks to stand out from Wilco's previous discography, as Glenn Kotche's drums play a prominent role from 'Bright Leaves' to 'An Empty Corner.' Sometimes they don't work ('Before Us,' 'We Were Lucky'), but the simple act of them being there helps Ode To Joy formulate an identity maintaining composure on the brink of consternation.
C
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If anything, Two Hands' existence is Big Thief capitalizes on an era of success and quality they themselves might find fleeting. Like how the demos and B-sides left on the cutting room floor during artists' peaks oftentimes surpass that of their ensuing material. With four undeniably-solid Indie Folk releases under their belt, Big Thief are setting themselves up to be the heir of Fleet Foxes' throne. Continuing the stranglehold of a dying genre. Predictably so, Two Hands doesn't differ greatly from U.F.O.F. - or any Big Thief record sans Wide Winged Bird - relying on Adrianne Lenker's stalwart vocals and her coveted grasp on familial disquietude. At times, the backing band reach back into their Indie Rock fantasies - best seen on Masterpiece - to satiate this growing sense of unease with a proper level of extrication, something that was lost on the mostly sequestered and reserved U.F.O.F.. The best example of this is, undoubtedly, 'Not' with its rousing second half that ventures off into lands unknown for Big Thief. If there discography weren't so rife with quality material, 'Not' would feel like the culminating point.
Two Hands have two other definite standouts, each due to their caroming innocence akin to Big Thief's earlier material. 'Forgotten Eyes' and 'Not Hands' parade with a careless glee, despite some impressively-intricate structural layering occurring underneath. Moments come and go on each of these tracks, each more whimsical than the ones that came before. A few other fulfilling tracks exist in 'The Toy' and 'Shoulders,' though it can't be ignored that Lenker and company still struggle when they rely on quiet, listless Singer/Songwriter tropes as seen on Two Hands' weakest tracks 'Those Girls,' 'Wolf,' and 'Cut My Hair.' Matters aren't helped by the surrounding monoliths and their imposing stature, as it's clear certain tracks are far more involved and impassioned than others. Overall though, another resilient Big Thief record that's further cementing the band as one of the more consistent in Indie music today.
B
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