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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Bridging the gap between polar opposites, without sounding disillusioned and incoherent, often proves impossible for musicians. Not Yo La Tengo, who manage, on their 10th LP Summer Sun, to sound both warm and cold, a paradox united unto itself by Ira Kaplan's serene and sedated vocals. On all Yo La Tengo albums previous to this, Kaplan was often matched, or exceeded by, the blistery production. But here, he's left bare to sweat or shiver depending on the pacing Georgia Hubley and James McNew present. At times, like 'Little Eyes' or 'Season Of The Shark,' an amicable procession of Jangle Pop - akin to Galaxie 500 or The Clientele - evoke a carefree summer's eve frothing with begot memories. Elsewhere, on say 'Nothing But You & Me' or 'Don't Have To Be So Sad,' a winter's chill crawls up the paralyzed instrumentation both fatigued and comatose. The latter's stilted percussion, stuck on an icebox loop like a dead car battery, draws comparisons to another 2003 song; Outkast's 'Vibrate.' Each using said technique in drastically anomalous ways.
During this cold spell, when Kaplan's at his most bare, Yo La Tengo find themselves cozying up with the composed side of Modest Mouse circa 1997 with Lonesome Crowded West or Broken Social Scene circa 2001 with Feel Good Lost. All the while maintaining that touch of plush homeliness their best material has been known to feature. With this somnolent approach though, Summer Sun is bound to have lulls, and those come frequently with tracks like 'Nothing But You & Me,' 'Moonrock Mambo,' and 'Take Care,' amongst others. The standouts don't do enough to mitigate such a sluggish saunter, and as such Summer Sun finds itself amongst a sea of Yo La Tengo records that disappointment, only moderately, as they drift further from the potential for greatness. Thank goodness 'Let's Be Still's' ten minutes is likely Yo La Tengo's best mellow drone of their career, taking the dulcet Ambient Pop of Broken Social Scene's 'Passport Radio' and matching it with Jim O'Rourke's American Primitivism. It's an endless treat that never stops giving.
B-
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Right from the get-go, TV Girl came equip with a heavily-defined aesthetic. One that's devoured by the sun's unrelenting rays. TV Girl, their four-track debut, wastes no time frolicking in the heat as each of the EP's 651 seconds pummel the listener with saturated bombast. 'On Land,' easily the crowning jewel and one of the best summertime anthems of the 2010's, drives with a rhythmic loop that's inherently euphoric. While Joel Williams' vocals could strain due to their vanilla flair - seen most noticeably on 'If You Want It (You Got It)' - 'On Land's' syrupy melody and ingrained stature reap intoxication. It sounds like a precursor to Alvvays' conglomeration of Indie, Jangle, and Twee Pop. The last notable moment on TV Girl is 'I Don't Care,' purely for the angsty, lyric-driven content that's so de facto and candid that you can't help but find it appealing. "They say, read this, feel this, do this, do that / Eat right, exercise or you'll get fat" is just one example of Williams' jaunty cynicism, made all the better by 'I Don't Care's' sonic similarity to SNL's Christmas parody 'I Wish It Was Christmas Today.'
B-
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1988 | Darkwave | Listen
DECORATING WITH CHEAP COBWEBS AND A FOUL SCENT
My patience with The Legendary Pink Dots is running thin. After thoroughly enjoying Nemesis Online and A Perfect Mystery enough to embark on unraveling their assiduous discography from the beginning, I've been left with little more than disappointment with their cheeky Dark Cabaret bacchanal. Sure there were glimmers executed well, like 'The Shock Of Contact,' 'Louder After 6,' or the entirety of Asylum, but Any Day Now offers none of that, simultaneously lending itself to mockery on my behalf with that sardonic title. Please, Edward Ka-Spel, any day now. Competing with Curse for their worst project yet, Any Day Now is a tortuous listen of extraordinarily-dated musicianship that relies on schmaltzy, 80's chills, chintzy theatrics, and janky instrumentation best left for a haunted house acquiring countless one-stars on Yelp for its predictability and rampant cliches.
There are no positives to find here, as The Legendary Pink Dots dive further into the farfetched antics and macabre absurdism they've become synonymous with. Tracks like 'A Strychnine Kiss' and 'Neon Mariners' are so preposterously over-the-top that one would instantly assume The Legendary Pink Dots to be a ironic comedy routine, not a deathly serious band aiming to congeal their stylization. I would have said the three-track run from 'Laguna Beach' to 'Neon Mariners' is one of the worst stretches of music I've heard, if not for the fact that Any Day Now's nine song stretch exists. Stay away at all costs. Only for the morbidly curious.
F
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And so begins my journey through New Order's discography. As many have deduced, Movement is quite an awkward debut, for obvious reasons. With the passing of Ian Curtis fresh in the mind of bandmates Bernard Sumner, Peter Hook, and Stephen Morris, there was bound to be some indecisiveness on where to take New Order. Rather than dawn their eventual Synthpop sound that relied heavily on taxing, uptempo synthesizers that differed from New Wave due to the sobriety, Somner and company remained immobile in a desolate and dark Coldwave environment. One that tried, on tracks like 'Truth and 'ICB,' to present a danceable backdrop, much to the chagrin of their own, telling emotional state. In this regard, Movement is a clunky, misguided, and largely lukewarm debut. At times it's unnerving, witnessing bandmates force a transformation into delectation, only to have their own misery drag down the intent.
There are exceptions that hint at the New Order prowess soon to come; Primarily 'Dreams Never End' and 'Denial.' Praise has been bestowed upon the former countless times, and for good reason, as it's the one song that feels assured and courageous, with grooves drawing resemblance to Joy Division's own 'Disorder' or 'Love Will Tear Us Apart.' As for 'Denial,' the unrelenting pace and incorporation of those treasured, clandestine synths feels most evocative of New Order's proposed sound shift. It doesn't reach memorable heights, but the quality maintains enough to allow 'Denial' to be Movement's second best. Lastly, in terms of equalling the atmosphere with a menacing underbite, there's 'Senses,' which doesn't stray far from the No Wave scene occurring at the time. First generation Swans, Birthday Party, and Psychic TV come to mind.
Overall an album that, forgivably so, is scared of the existence its presence implies. New Order's genesis, with Movement being the first nail in that metamorphosis, caused reluctance and timidity to surface. The talent, as 'Dreams Never End' proved, was very much there. They just needed a moment to mourn before the real fun began.
C-
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1967 | Contemporary Folk | Listen
BLEEDING PROFUSELY FROM THE PIERCE OF CUPID'S ARROW
When an artist exposes themselves bare, leveraging the strength of their musicianship solely on the power and testament of their voice, more often than not failure arrives. It's the faux pas of Singer/Songwriter, purposely neglecting the instrumentation that propels most to the genre in favor of a me-first mentality. It's not inherently ostentatious, more so presumptuous over the importance of the id. Typically when it comes to music, less does not equal more. But here, on Leonard Cohen's awe-inspiring debut, it most certainly does. Songs, with its meek title and unassuming cover, bears no flash or flair. Ten songs of pure, romantic poetry swooning over autumnal ardor and mourning the pits of despair inevitably adjacent. Though Singer/Songwriter is far from my favorite genre, Cohen's sullen vocals, evocative lyrics, and stories told through a transcendental lens help elevate Songs beyond the bevy of imitators.
The twinge of Chamber Folk helps too, of course. While songs like 'Winter Lady' and 'One Of Us Cannot Be Wrong' fade into the background with inconsequential acoustic drivel, Songs' best efforts glide with the grace of a swan destined for greener pastures. Much of the music's charismatic state comes not from Cohen - who's often preoccupied with window-gazing melancholy - but rather backing vocalist Nancy Priddy. Her infrequent appearances help to not only provide authenticity to Songs' lover's quarrel, but also galvanizes an otherwise dejected palate of sorrow. It is of no coincidence that the best moments here feature her, most notably 'Suzanne' and 'So Long, Marianne.' One finds itself hopeful and voluptuous, the other smitten and over-the-moon. The tandem between the two singers - especially on the Brill Building chorus' of 'So Long, Marianne' - harmonizes this palpable love, simultaneously grounding the moments of desolation Cohen lingers in elsewhere without Priddy.
While the acoustic guitar drives the instrumentation, there's moments in Songs' production that's both novel and inventive, interesting given Singer/Songwriter's general lack of boundary-pushing. The quirky, 'tabletop' sounds on 'Sisters Of Mercy' sounds ripe for a minimal Faust or Can cut, while the droning twang in 'Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye's' second half recalls Jim O'Rourke's revisited American Primitivism. Then there's Songs third best track, 'Stories Of The Street,' which presents the unsettled underbelly of Folk akin to Nico. That's where Cohen's debut succeeds; in his ability to magnetize minimalism with curious textures and memorable set pieces.
B
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It wasn't until hearing Zaliva-D that I became aware of just how limited alternative Chinese music is to the masses. While my knowledge of international music is narrow, the basic understanding of each region's style, poise, and foibles has been learnt. Not with China however, as Zaliva-D is, by and large, the first artist hailing from the country claiming over a billion citizens that I've heard. There must be something about a socialistic regime, and Chinese culture's self-effacing ways, that mitigate artistic expression which sidesteps convention. Forsaken represents that filthy underbelly, a derelict look at a society whose surface has become increasingly marred by the muck rising up and the corruption dripping down.
Set in the genre of Post-Industrial, Zaliva-D pummel the listener with hard-hitting beats both cold and malevolent. The hyper-rhythms present in the percussion allow entertainment to persist, despite the grim prospects Forsaken's music achieves. The quick, seven-track LP feels like an intrusion of a shady nightclub set discreetly in a back alley where sin is committed more than deference. Isolating single tracks proves difficult as Zaliva-D manage to wrest their aesthetic across the board, remaining stalwart and failing to deviate from their rigid path. Similarities, at least to artists I'm familiar with, can be found in Andy Stott's early Dub Techno career, Chino Amobi's Airport Music For Black People, or Amnesia Scanner's recent collaboration with Bill Kouligas Lexachast.
Forsaken is an apt title given the malicious and unrelenting desolation found within. Things are made all the more intriguing when Zaliva-D introduce vocal samples that wouldn't be unfamiliar to Chinese Folk Music if not for their bled and shredded state that feels more like a butchered carcass of a pig than the living being it once was. At times, like 'Can't Go Back' and 'Wicked,' they enrich the manifold by infecting the futuristic proceedings, bridging a contentious gap between the old and new. Other times though, as we see on 'Gone With The Pest' and 'Path,' the vocal manipulation becomes too grating and intrusive, distracting listeners from the weighty instrumentation that should be dominating. In either case, off atmosphere and dreaded ambience alone, Zaliva-D's Forsaken is an Electronic record worth wearily entering.
C+
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