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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2020 | Post-Punk | Listen
QUESTIONING THE LAW, A JOBLESS VAGRANT STEWS
Hot off the heels of Dogrel, in a crowded UK Punk scene, Fontaines D.C. were wise to pounce off their luck-of-the-draw attention. A Hero's Death simultaneously avoids the sophomore curse by deflecting expectations with such a short turn-around. Though quality isn't as high as Dogrel, the style not changed in the least, Fontaines D.C. has reaffirmed their position as relevant, albeit largely nonessential, revivalists. It may be a haughty scorn, but it's true. Despite my enjoyment of A Hero's Death, especially 'Televised Mind,' 'I Was Not Born,' and 'No,' there's no denying the garden variety image of Fontaines. Especially whilst compared to their far more interesting contemporary Idles, and the gripping upstarts black midi and Black Country, New Road.
In terms of accessibility though, Fontaines D.C. has them all beat. Which, in turn, might prove their success as hopefuls walking in the wake of Landfill Indie. Grian Chatten's monotone drawl is, thankfully, offset by inquisitive lyrics containing both charming nonchalance and inspirational bravado. They're not as direct as, say, 'Roy's Tune' or 'Boys In The Better Land,' with Chatten thinking larger, more obtuse, while being less concerned with Irish squabbles. Though average on the whole, 'A Hero's Death' has some excellent motivational lyrics, as does personal favorite 'I Was Not Born,' with its rolling 90's-esque percussion. On the flip side, Chatten also shows an awareness to intimacy, depression, and the natural dilemma of humanity, as the bookended pair of 'I Don't Belong' and 'No' act as Fontaines D.C.'s two most grounded, disconsolate songs to date. The latter's subtle ray of hope isn't just gorgeous, it's necessary.
All in all, A Hero's Death doesn't quite reach the fervent rambunctiousness of Dogrel, but it's still a worthy successor that'll seal Fontaines D.C.'s position in the Post-Punk scene for at least half a decade. The jury's still out on whether Chatten, and the band, can carry themselves through slower movements, as their attempts on 'Oh Such A Spring' and 'Sunny' struggle to engage and entertain. Those two, plus the discordantly-clunky 'Lucid Dream,' are the worst A Hero's Death has to offer.
B-
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2020 | Downtempo | Listen
CROWDS DISSIPATE AS THE SUN SETS ON A BEACH
Judging solely off the artist name, it seems as though dj poolboi didn't take his talents seriously, because he sure as hell has some. Though it's enriched by a cheap aesthetic that's, essentially, a cheesy injection of unrealistic romance, it's good to hear your voice soothes the soul and eases the mind of any burden. Using Outsider House and Downtempo, dj poolboi skirts around an idealized relationship, one that any lonesome lover would die to achieve. See the grainy, nostalgia-inducing music video for it's good to hear your voice's best song; 'like we were the last two people on earth.' It nears the point of parody, how unified the music's peaceful, communal rhythms is to that idea of perfection.
But damn if it ain't enticing. Though, like many predecessors who profited off a similar aesthetic (Tycho, Emancipator, Ulrich Schnauss), one can criticize dj poolboi for lack of creativity. Over the eight tracks, that feeling of loyal synchronicity goes nowhere, heightened by on-the-noise titles like 'we can be happy' and 'i'll see you in my dreams.' Stylized in all lowercase, of course. If we're to ignore faults within it's good to hear your voice's pseudo pertinency, what's left is music that refreshes an ailing mind with such reassuring ease that one can't help but be overcome with feelings - of one sort or another - by album's end. I'm reminded of Balam Acab's excellent LP Wander / Wonder, which harbors that same sentiment with ethereal production techniques and an Ambient backbone. Beyond 'like we were the last two people on earth,' the only song I find genuinely great is 'I lost myself,' with its shivering vocal samples and cavernous array of synthesizers. 'don't be so hard on yourself' comes close as well, with overhead birds and an abject piano playing second fiddle to disconnected rhythm sections. Overall, a pleasant LP that demands nothing from the listener, only to lend its soul for them to use.
C+
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2020 | Singer/Songwriter | Listen
ATOP A HILL, ALONE, PLEADING FOR AN ALIEN INVASION
Though it's good, and my score reflects that, I can't help being somewhat disappointed in the lack of evolution Phoebe Bridgers has endured since 2017's Stranger In The Alps. The fair and balanced duality between Indie Folk and Indie Rock continues like a game of hot potato, with the connecting string being Bridgers' subdued and profound relationship with her upbringing. The songwriting, instrumentation, predictable pacing, and well-timed fireworks all parallel Stranger In The Alps. However, while criticism is easy to discern when it comes to creativity, quality in art tends to prevail. Bridgers' commitment to her craft, treating each fleeting moment, whether it's the thunderous climax of 'Chinese Satellite' or the fragile string arrangements on 'Savior Complex,' as if her last breathe is on the cusp of revealing itself, allows Punisher to ascend in spite of distinct similarities to her debut.
As per usual, preference falls on substance and not lack thereof. Therefore, generic Singer/Songwriter cajoling ('Punisher,' 'Graceland Too'), though pretty and inoffensive, fails to leave a mark. It's not Bridgers' fault, more so the self-imposed stipulations allowing Singer/Songwriter to exist. For me, production can make or break a song. And often. Lyrics, on the other hand, rarely amount to that level of importance. It's why 'Kyoto' and 'I Know The End' are, essentially, the universal favorites. With 'Chinese Satellite' as the safe third pick. Everyone knows it, but few dare to denounce the delicate genre that, more often than not, plays second fiddle to necessary centerpieces. Speaking of which, yes, 'Kyoto' and 'I Know The End' are great. One, for its status as accessible anthem (see: 'Motion Sickness'), the other for its chilling pace and enraptured pay-off (see: 'Scott Street'). Not only do these two have direct competitors on Stranger In The Alps, each invoke the idiosyncratic stylings of other artists: Beulah on 'Kyoto,' Sufjan Stevens on 'I Know The End.' When hearing those ebullient horns of the former I almost feel as though I'm cheating on Beulah with a younger, spunkier look-a-like. As for 'I Know The End,' that soaring bout of maximalist fanfare screams Stevens, be it 'The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts,' 'Djohariah,' or 'Vesuvius.'
B-
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