Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Listening Log Present - Volume 60



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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Katie Dey | Mydata
2020 | Indietronica | Listen

GETTING LOST IN THE INFINITE DATA STREAM

With mild work, one could convince me that Katie Dey is nothing more than an advanced A.I., metamorphosed from a human consumed by the Internet and its infinite strands of 1's and 0's. Flood Network, the only album I've heard of Dey's, featured such Glitch Pop infractions, contorting fragile vocals into waveforms distorted by corruption. However, not remotely on the scale of Mydata, which takes things further into the void as such precise, irreversible manipulation derails her hopes of subsistence. It's quite beautiful, and equally representative of humanity's slipping grasp on reality; Bandwidth consumption has become our addiction, and Mydata's merely a reflection of that. Would I say it's an improvement over Flood Network, knowing full well nothing will best 'Fear O' The Light?' Maybe not, for the pacing and originality of the latter still shines bright. Still, in terms of case-by-case Art Pop, Mydata's collection rarely falters, and when it does ('Word,' 'Hopeless,' 'Closeness'), the damage is short and brief.

Regrettably, Dey's best efforts here all lie at the album's onset. With the exception of 'Bearing,' which is a lovely pseudo-climax that maneuvers its way through a post-Pop landscape of crunching synthesizers, reflective lyrics, and a decaying piano. Speaking of which, Mydata's sonic calling card has to be that one natural tether and the keys that languish onward despite technology's tightening grip. Songs like 'Happiness,' 'Loving,' and 'Data' is boosted significantly by that piano and its creaking, persistent subservience. Dey's work there is gorgeous and everlasting. However, the LP's best is so for entirely different reasons. 'Dancing,' with its resonating lyrics, highly-rhythmic percussion, and Progressive Pop string arrangements soars with addicting resolute. Numerous times I've caught myself pinging that beat in my head, humming the lines of empowerment over their rapturous spunk.

Though Dey's brand of Glitch Pop is still authentic and rooted in the disorienting future, comparisons to other artists can still be felt. One can't go without mentioning Björk, whose influence stretches far and wide but not typically her remiss, 2000's period with LP's like Medúlla and Volta. That over-the-top clutter, confusing period can be heard in Dey's vocals across Mydata, but most prominently on 'Hurting.' Then there's The Knife and Karin Dreijer's vocals on 'Word,' though the lack of elaboration is disappointing. And lastly, 'Data's' sparse, yet looming Chamber Pop feels similar to Son Lux's weary combination of Art Pop and Modern Classical. All worthy artists to be compared to, Dey's status as a consistent figure in left field Pop grows with Mydata, a mature progression that remains both true to her figure and explorative of her future.

B
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Jeff Rosenstock | NO DREAM
2020 | Power Pop | Listen

UNLEASHING REPRESSED RAGE AS A LOST BROOKLYNITE

Jeff Rosenstock's music is exhausting. Purposely so, but still. The biting angst, riotous vocals, and depressing lyrics all coalesce into a draining mixture that saps energy rather than amplifies it. At least from my perspective, which is likely why my interest of Rosenstock never reaches that of the predominant opinion. NO DREAM changes that slightly. Not for lack of fortitude, as certain songs like 'Leave It In The Sun' and '***BNB,' are some of his most turbid and lawless to date, but rather variety which glimmers in necessary spots to prevent a migraine from certainly ensuing. All signs point to this being the reason why 'N O  D R E A M,' 'State Line,' and 'f a m e' is my favorite streak on the LP. The former begins with a dirge unlike anything Rosenstock's composed before. Patient and pressing, the eventual release into pure pandemonium at least has causation, instead of dumping listeners into the middle of a deluge. Meanwhile 'State Line' is a textbook Power Pop track, with a comprehensible structure and impassioned hook, while 'f a m e' - NO DREAM's best - ascends to quite the midway coda that, by Rosenstock measures, lingers enough to actually assert a reaction.

Besides those three the only other track I'd consider great is 'Ohio Tpke,' which proves Rosenstock's verisimilitude and capability of compartmentalizing his pent-up rage in ways other than his anarchic Skate Punk. At nearly six minutes, 'Ohio Tpke' coasts in numerous different directions, both stylistically in the music (which, at times, veers into Neo-Psychedelia and Midwest Emo) and lyrically as Rosenstock tackles feelings of homesick abandonment as a conscious spectator and reactionary droll. It might be his most impressive achievement, considering his tendency to avoid lofty aims for the sake of instant gratification. Overall, NO DREAM is likely my favorite Jeff Rosenstock record, but the unwavering vigor and in-your-face pluck still proves difficult to endure. I applaud the passion, through and through.

B-
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