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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Given the quality, or more specifically the artistic refinement, I'd expect Machine+ to be a more prominent band in the modern Indie scene. Saṃsāra unveils an array of rich sub-genres bred and cultivated in the 90's, including Shoegaze, Lo-Fi Indie, Post-Rock, and Slowcore, that have become havens for hipster bellwethers to tout their musical sagacity. Saṃsāra is that in a nutshell, interspersing moments of weighted dread with desultory Glitch aimed at memorializing a tarnished childhood. The effect is intriguing - best seen at the cusp of 'Poor June' and 'Alien Interference Blues' - though rarely as impactful as intended due to the intense laceration. 'On The Mountain's' second half is rife with such ideology, reaching the irritable tendencies of Harsh Noise at its peak, settling for The Caretaker's late-stage dementia with Everywhere At The End Of Time circa Stage 4, 5, and 6 in the stopgap.
I feel, while the bouts of dramatic Slowcore that draw parallels to Weatherday, Duster, or Slowdive, are assured of their stern and bleak fate, the Glitch intrusion leaves the listener unsure of Saṃsāra's true intent. When Machine+ focus on their Shoegaze prowess, Saṃsāra hits outstanding highs, the most apparent is 'Alien Interference Blues.' The muted, cascading wall of sound shimmers like a waterfall reflecting off the sun's rays. Because of the Lo-Fi Indie mixing approach, the Noise is blissful and safe, as if you're viewing the waterfall from a reputable lookout thousands of feet away, rather than being crushed from underneath. 'On The Mountain' is a little more aggressive in this approach, building in consternation before enduring the aforementioned memory erasure. Saṃsāra is a cool album, don't let criticisms fool you. It's worth investing time. Whether it's 'Poor June's' uneven psychedelics that feel like the other side of Sweet Trip's coin, 'Soft Light's' acoustic wherewithal that buzzes sanctimoniously like Have A Nice Life, or 'Scruff's' dreamy second half that shreds off instability akin to The Beta Band's Three E.P's, there's bound to be something tantalizing for you on Saṃsāra.
C+
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You'd be hard pressed to find a better posthumous album than Circles. Believe it or not, it's less to do with the quality of the music within and more the commitment and rectitude those who reimagined Mac Miller's last album admirably embraced. It's one of the few cash grabs (and yes, just because you love Circles doesn't make it not a cash grab) that wouldn't cause the deceased to roll over in their grave. Musically-coherent, thematically-relevant to Miller's on-and-off troubles, properly matured and level-headed, and laced with the delicate passion that Miller grew a fanbase off of. Calling it his best since 2013's stellar Watching Movies With The Sound Off is a safe bet, though it's not as undoubtedly above 2018's Swimming as many would have you believe.
From a distance and abstaining from context, Circles was a worrisome album given Miller's previous entry into purist Neo-Soul with The Divine Feminine, a problematic album swayed by a tumultuous relationship and trend-worthy sound. The distinction between the two lies in the respective sophistication, as Divine Feminine often touted unfledged concepts of romance with limited experience in Soul to back it up. Miller's passion showed promise though, and we see that blossoming on Circles, even during the moments (like 'I Can See' and 'That's On Me') where the topics presented are trivial and cliched. Expectedly so, Miller whilst discussing the subject of death draws morbid fanfare and reveals the lens in which the tormented optimist saw the afterlife. These often provide Circles' best moments, like lead single 'Everybody' and 'Surf.' Each of these exemplify the minimalistic Neo-Soul Circles breeds, dominated by a nocturnal bass, solemn acoustics, and radiating percussion that auralize Miller's mind state as someone content with every outcome thrown his way.
Nowhere is that seen better than on the lead single 'Good News,' Circles' calling card. It's an awe-inspiring cut from all directions, be it the lush string arrangements, patient building, or Miller's hazy reflection on society's tendencies to downplay personal discussion that's not all sunshine and roses. It encapsulates his personality with precision, revealing the woeful behavior of others with congeniality and understanding. Other Circles standouts include the opening title track, which reminds me of Velvet Underground & Nico's sleepy-eye opener 'Sunday Morning' in its tranquility in the wake of brewing trouble. 'Blue World' also succeeds with darting synthesizers and a frantic atmosphere not unlike that of Watching Movies, brought to you by Guy Lawrence; One half of Disclosure. 'Hand Me Downs' and 'Hands' are both pleasurable songs, even if their presence might never astound. The latter, with its childlike flirtation bears resemblance to Andre 3000's Love Below.
All that being said, apart from 'Good News,' Circles is scant on the wow factor. It's a graciously subdued album, and for good reason. But sometimes that causes tracks to fade into the crevices, like 'I Can See,' 'Woods,' or the closer 'Once A Day.' These efforts fail to add their own spice, either representing the album's aesthetic as a whole or mimicking that of a previous song (in 'Once A Day's' case it's 'Circles'). This is typical for a modern Neo-Soul album, with the likes of Anderson .Paak, Steve Lacy, or The Internet falling victim in much the same way. The variety isn't substantial and the content isn't imaginative. Circles is a beautiful album heightened, dreadfully so, by the passing of Mac Miller. Without that tombstone laying overhead, the final result isn't as rewarding. But being that it is, Circles acts as a satisfying cairn for a discography both exemplar and undeniably human.
B-
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