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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You wanna talk about achieving an aesthetic? Chance デラソウル's All Together Now! does exactly that, diving headfirst into a rambunctious, tropical regale where concerns are left at the door. What's initially its greatest enabler, the commitment to said aesthetic and the inexorable movement that rides the drums through each of the eight tracks, soon becomes its downfall though. All Together Now! cares not for pace, situation, or downtime. From the first second of 'Summer' to the last second of 'Now All Together,' all 23 delirious minutes capture the claustrophobic intensity of a party at peak bombast. Crowd chatter runs amok across fluttering synthesizers, uptempo percussion, Soul falsettos, and the occasional dialogue sample piqued by the ear's passing interest. To some, this'll be Heaven. To others, it's a stranded Hell. By all accounts, I lie in the former, apart from the lack of variation and artistic ingenuity.
Everybody, including myself I won't lie, will look to The Avalanches' Since I Left You as a primary piece of influence. And it's true, All Together Now! captures the fete atmosphere of a group of strangers shipwrecked with nothing but booze, music, and dashing spirits to keep their sanity. Tracks like 'You Will Be There,' 'Please Remember,' and 'Golden Supernatural Symphony' all recall the most boisterous of cuts on Since I Left You; namely 'Radio,' 'A Different Feeling,' and 'Live At Dominoes.' Difference being, The Avalanches' crowning beacon offers so much more while this does not. However, there's another point of reference for Chance デラソウル's aesthetic that deserves attention, for Chance gave it to himself. The jovial agility and sweat-inducing dance concoctions of Handsomeboy Technique, primarily his debut Adelie Land (though Terrestrial Tone Cluster is just as good), can be felt here. That much is obvious with a track title like 'Handsomeboy Technicality.' The ode is much appreciated, though All Together Now! once again pales in terms of diversification. An album whose aesthetic is both a blessing and a curse.
B-
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1990 | Psychedelic Rock | Listen
LIVING INSIDE THE WINCHESTER MYSTERY HOUSE
With The Crushed Velvet Apocalypse, the light is seemingly at the end of the tunnel. After mucking around in the mire known as The Legendary Pink Dots' abysmal 80's era, which featured some of the worst, most kitschy and archaic efforts at Hallows Eve elicitation known to man (Curse, The Tower, Any Day Now), it seems as though the band helmed by loony-man Edward Ka-Spel has finally settled. Convenient given the 1990 release date, leaving the 80's in the past for something more refined, grand, and enjoyable. If only triflingly so. Problems still arise in abundance here, be it the DIY haunted house tomfoolery of 'The Death Of Jack The Ripper' or 'The Pleasure Palace,' or the sheer fact that it's 68 overindulgent minutes. But progress can be seen, especially in one stroke of genius instance; 'Princess Coldheart.'
I'm devoting the rest of this review to that song, for while other efforts like 'Hellsville' and 'New Tomorrow' energize a narcotic Legendary Pink Dots, nothing does so as splendidly as 'Princess Coldheart.' Since their inception in 1981, the band (up until the point of Crushed Velvet Apocalypse) had made well over one hundred songs. None were good, most failed to reach adequate. 'Princess Coldheart' is the first to genuinely reach greatness, and it does so with something Ka-Spel previously resented; a hook and melody. It is a refreshing treat for someone whose suffered through their discography this long, waiting for a moment of release. The building chorus, each more eloquent and magnificent than the former, culminating in a euphoric bout of splendor rife with medieval instrumentation gallivanting in unison, won't soon be forgotten. It is everything The Legendary Pink Dots have tried to achieve, exacerbated by the fact that - for once in their career - everlasting catchiness can be applied as a description. A beautiful moment that shows promise for the future.
C
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2016 | Indie Pop | Listen
BUTTERFLIES FLUTTER AGAINST YOUR STOMACH LINING
TV Girl are less a band about evolution and more one dedicated to refinement. Their aesthetic is captivating and unique, borrowing delicacies from easy-to-go Indie Pop, incorporating psychedelic Alternative Dance rhythms and the occasional Chopped N' Screwed vocal sample as cherry on top. Whence compared to French Exit, TV Girl's excellent debut after a string of okay EP's that includes TV Girl, Benny & The Jetts, and Lonely Women, Who Really Cares is redundant. But has that every stopped anyone when it comes to Pop music? It's purposely fleeting, temporal, and painless, a necessary and natural stimulant humans can't seem to live without. Couple that with their tendencies to romanticize spontaneous interaction, and you can see why Who Really Cares hasn't gone out of style. Sure, it's all aesthetic and no substance, but on the cusp of summer when the skies outside my window are as blue as the eye can see, there's few things more pleasurable.
Don't get these words twisted, Who Really Cares is quite the downgrade from French Exit. It's their style encapsulated with a rich array of saturated colors and throwback, bathetic film samples. By comparison, Who Really Cares has a fair bit more immature spunk. It's friskier, coy, and perhaps dumbed down. Every song, apart from 'Song About Me' which features an awkward rapped verse from Maddie Acid, follows the predictable TV Girl pattern. Longing verses riddled with cliches, interspersed with uplifting and excitable samples. Rinse and repeat. 'Taking What's Not Yours,' 'Safeword,' 'For You,' and 'Heaven Is A Bedroom' are my personal favorites, and a solid bunch that proves TV Girl capable of achieving various moods (all under the guise of melancholy) with different tempos and backing beats. 'Taking What's Not Yours' has a jaunty flex that, along with 'Not Allowed,' reminds me of the hoopla presented by The Go! Team. 'Safeword' and 'For You' are more melodic, with wistful samples weaving gracefully through a bevy of claustrophobic, yet cohesive, sound. Lastly, 'Heaven Is A Bedroom' brings them all together in one excellent Pop song that I can't see any human disliking. It's Who Really Cares' best track, and would've maybe been considered so on French Exit as well. It's that good. The rest of the LP gazes longingly towards it.
B-
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1992 | Punk Blues | Listen
INBRED DRAMA AT THE REDNECK TRAILER PARK
Why do I feel as though Nick Cave's going backwards? That feeling is synonymous with my positive perception, which is quickly fading as well. The Good Son was an unnecessary, albeit temporarily-exploratory diversion to The Bad Seeds' usual run-of-the-mill ruff neck Punk Blues. It was my least favorite project from the band, dating back to The Birthday Party days, which worries me for Nick Cave's incoming Singer/Songwriter era. But alas, Henry's Dream rights the ship, finding a common ground in the clean and energetic production of Tender Prey - their best - and the familial tension, sinful cruelty, and bar in the bad spot of town Punk Blues of From Her To Eternity and The Firstborn Is Dead. In other words, it's all stuff we've heard before from The Bad Seeds, without a level of beauty or ambition to separate these songs from the flock.
I struggle to find one standout moment if we're being truthful. Mediocrity runs the gamut, as Nick Cave himself seems content, and all too comfortable, living in his world of mayhem, mischievous, and mood. There's the aggressive, bellicose barbarity of tracks like 'Papa Won't Leave You, Henry' and 'I Had A Dream, Joe' that are all gas and no brakes. There's the deflowering howling of repent on tracks like 'Brother, My Cup Is Empty' and 'John Finn's Wife' that heavily evoke Tender Prey's eleventh-hour desperation. And, likely my favorite, there's the heartfelt and disguised purity of 'Straight To You' and 'When I First Came To Town' which gasconade around progressive Gothic Country. These are the prettiest moments on Henry's Dream, incorporating the deluge of chastity from The Good Son into the world of wickedness that dominates The Bad Seeds' music.
C
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Patti Smith's debut Horses is often cited as the institutional Art Punk record, one defined by the raw and rebellious nature of Punk whilst incorporating oddities not previously heard in genres hellbent on agitated emotion. Smith's spastic charm, her cryptic lyrics, and the variety in which each half is exposed helps solidify this notion. Horses is an undeniably influential record, especially for women whose admittance into music was, at that time, hinged entirely on their vocal prowess. This is an ugly record with incidental moments of beauty ('Kimberly,' 'Break It Up'). I can list countless female musicians who owe their freedom of expression on Patti Smith, including but not limited to: PJ Harvey, Kate Bush, Kim Gordon, Laurie Anderson, and Fiona Apple.
However, interestingly enough, Horses doesn't feel ahead of its time. It's more a transitory album, bridging the gap between the theatricality of Glam Rock and the siphoned pliancy of Post-Punk. David Bowie's extravagance can be heard on 'Break It Up,' Lou Reed and John Cale's sonorous contortions on 'Gloria,' even Brian Eno's kooky nonlinearity on 'Redondo Beach,' all examples of inspiration Smith used musically. None of this applies to the lyrics though, which are singular and captivating, culminating in the nine-minute 'Land' that freewheels in a million different directions. It reminds me of Suicide's 'Frankie Teardrop' that'll emerge in two years.
While Horses is undoubtedly a good album, I question how much I'll return to it. In my eyes, 'Gloria's' the only song (with 'Kimberly' in a distant second) that satiates both an enjoyable facade and stands the test of time. 'Birdland' and 'Land' are fantastic case studies on structural deformation, but are a tad too overbearing for numerous listens. I'll never tire of uproarious background vocals, but even then, 'Break It Up' is so mid-70's it hurts. Same goes for 'Free Money.' None of these songs are bad, just a tad too raw and primitive for my tastes. Still, the influential stature can't be ignored.
B
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