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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Talk about overwhelming. Largely because of who it's coming from, 7G declares itself a boilerplate for Electronic music's future. That would be an asinine statement if it were about anyone else but A.G. Cook, the founder and leader of the PC Music movement. Clocking in at a whopping two hours and forty minutes, the seven-disc compilation speaks on multiple fronts in regards to music consumption. Sonically, it's a sporadic mess rife with ear-grating IDM, endearing - if concealed - Ambient Pop, and quixotical endeavors into A.G. Cook's primary foray; Bubblegum Bass. By its very nature, 7G also posits itself for a future where diversity, individuality, and not being afraid to fail are inclusive facets of society. Though pretentious (on my explanatory behalf), by incorporating a litany of sub-par, cutting room floor experiments amongst ludicrously-fun Futurepop and intimate reflections on the self, A.G. Cook effectively excogitates a utopian society where equality from all creeds is universal. Regardless of if you mix the good with the bad, acceptance and ambition is touted.
That being said, it's impossible to challenge oneself - as A.G. Cook does here - with an exploration of all Electronic sub-genres without finding yourself at the mercy of comparisons. And there are a lot. Prepare yourself. For on 7G you'll find carnival ride nausea from Aphex Twin's IDM ('A-Z,' 'Life Speed,' 'Triptych Demon'), Industrial-tinged synth stabs via Clark ('Illuminated Biker Gang,' 'Overheim'), highlighted Wonky that ascends to the rafters a la Flume ('Dust'), and the unnatural bending of time and space with Venetian Snare's Modern Classical Breakcore ('Note Velocity,' 'Waldhammer'). But that's not all, for contemporary similarities arise in Holly Herndon's disorienting and dysphoric vocals ('Idyll'), James Ferraro's gelatinous simlish ('Feeling,' 'Green Beauty'), Clarence Clarity's crying and perverse Glitch Pop ('Beetlebum'), and even Sad Boys' feeble masculinity ('Lil Song,' 'Oracle'). On top of all this, the variety is so disorienting that resemblances to Lil Ugly Mane's Third Side Of Tape can be felt.
Obviously, one can't go without mentioning sounds grown familiar with artists like SOPHIE ('Soft Landing,' '2021') or Charli XCX ('Gemstone Break,' 'Official'), despite having originated with A.G. Cook and his brand of synthetic, consumerist Bubblegum Bass. This is where he shines the brightest, for 7G's best moments surface when his vocals (or that of guests like Hannah Diamond or Cecile Believe) glisten woefully over blissful Pop production. The first instance of this is 'Silver,' an adorable diddy that features laser light synthesizers and pining lyrics. Most of disc two - A.G. Guitar - adheres to this line of thinking as well, with moderate examples in 'Gold Leaf,' 'Being Harsh,' 'Undying,' 'Lil Song,' and 'Superstar.' It's easily the most accessible seven-track collection here. There's other Bubblegum Bass highlights scattered amongst the other discs, including 'DJ Every Night,' 'Windows,' 'Show Me What,' and 'Alright.' You're never far from one, which is a relief when ugly experimental ideas like 'Mad Max,' 'Polyphloisboisterous,' 'Could It Be,' and 'No Yeah' constantly rear their heads.
Some of the most impression outlets are those which group the two together, stringing a dubious line between slapdash nonsense and harmonious structure. 'Note Velocity' is a prime example, with its gimmicky premise eventually giving way to a momentous cascade of shimmering collage of synthesizers, keyboards, pianos, strings, and drums. Other examples come in the shape of 'Gemstone Break,' 'Green Beauty,' and 'Hold On.' Then there's '2021,' which doesn't evolve so much as just exist in the eternal present, like Groundhog's Day. It's also one of my favorites, as Sounds Like A U Problem's monotone, millennial vocals match the tonal cry of her melodramatic lyrics to a tee. Plus it's addicting as all hell.
B
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2020 | Lo-Fi Indie | Listen
DETERRED BY STRESSORS OUTSIDE ONE'S WINDOW
You know that YouTube sensation 'Lo-Fi Hip-Hop Radio,' featuring an anime girl dozing off while studying as her cat stares longingly out the rain-soaked, nighttime window? Bedbug's Life Like Moving Pictures is that with a seasonal shift. Beaming with home-brewed, DIY Bedroom Pop, Bedbug's style directly correlates to that sense of rooted wanderlust, as a shimmering sun fixates its gaze upon a lone student who's internally desperate for someone, or something, to sweep them away from monotony. Apt for a worldwide pandemic too, I might add. That feeling of yearn sits at the heart of Bedroom Pop which, by its very nature, exists as a construct for those whose aspirations have been stifled. Having heard Bedbug's last LP, 2018's I'll count to heaven in years without seasons, it's clear their aesthetic has become less a necessary evil, and more an indispensable facet of their identity. Life Like Moving Pictures is no different, and should be treated as such. Adorable, with just the right amount of infertile desire, but lacking in the ability to self-aggrandize.
The most noticeable change of Bedbug's has to be the inclusion of samples, veering to the extent of Sound Collage. It's quite simplistic, splicing them almost exclusively as extended monologues from various films, contained either at the end of songs or in the 'Mixtape' interludes, but the inclusion adds an extra layer to Bedbug's state of indefinite languish nonetheless. Their best execution has to be the various interludes though, all dropped over nimble Lo-Fi Hip-Hop beats, effectively embodying the generations-long oppression of adolescent voices. Their passion, vigor, and resolute met with brushed aside apathy. It's veering on genius, subtly incorporating them as placemats. To hear impassioned voices fall on willfully deaf ears induces far more of a reaction than Dylan Citron's lyrics do. Which, while fine, do tend to tread into whiny, feigned sentimental territory. Overindulgent descriptions of mundane childhood accessories, disguised as vital characteristics of a life marred with pain, regret, and unrequited love. Though those connections could work, Citron doesn't make it explicit enough. It doesn't help that his vocals are submerged, purposely so, in the aesthetic of being forgotten.
For what it sets out to accomplish, Life Like Moving Pictures is a fine album. It evokes penitent nostalgia, compounded by the weight of modern problems a generation of anti-socialites might one day soon have to shoulder. At times, the production is so quaint, plucky, and meek, that "Microsound for Indie fusspots" doesn't sound outrageous. 'TV Judges' and 'Life Like Falling Waters' are the two best examples of that, while the album's overall best (if we're to exclude the lovely beat on 'Spring Mixtape') has to be 'Attic In The Videostore.' It's to Life Like Moving Pictures as 'Lillies' was to I'll count to heaven.
C
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Let's get this out of the way; Protomartyr's greatest flaw falls solely on their conventionality. Like the two albums I've heard beforehand (Agent Intellect and Relatives In Descent), Protomartyr contends with the inability to strafe from deeply-rooted Post-Punk norms. It's as if you dumped an assemblage of the genre in a pot, awaiting a mixture that borrows spices and flourishes from all, but is reduced to such familiarity that one can't discern a new identity from the presented mush. That being said, the mush is still savory, for the genre - and all its knotted, rusted, jittery parts - sits in the top echelon of modern music. Let it be known, to describe Ultimate Success Today would be to describe Post-Punk at large.
The sounds are a cross between biding and intense, Joe Casey's lyrics despondent and glum, Protomartyr's general aesthetic dissonant and rousing. For what this album gains in calculated payoffs, it lacks in notable characteristics to separate it from the flock. Some songs, like 'Modern Business Hymns' and 'Bridge & Crown,' are lost upon arrival. Instantly forgotten, sat unadorned on an endless mantle of lookalikes. I couldn't tell you what makes them special, in Protomartyr's eyes, despite having last heard each mere moments ago. The same can't be said for a handful of songs elsewhere on Ultimate Success Today, like 'Processed By The Boys,' 'June 21,' or even 'I Am You Now,' which despite donning the caper of rowdy British chavs, still rings around in my cranium incoherently.
B-
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