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!
______________________________________________________
Much like Kelly Lee Owens with her self-titled in 2017, Ela Minus' debut acts of rebellion further supplements the missing, female ingredient Electronica has been sorely lacking. Though her vocals play a more prominent role than the once-reserved Owens, Minus doesn't shy away from exhibiting her talents on the boards. We saw that with the show-stopping single 'they told us it was hard, but they were wrong,' a sleek Deep House spectacle that contorts Industrial rigidness to a dance floor for factory slaves performing menial tasks awaiting emancipation. Why the preposterous comparison? Well, acts of rebellion takes a strong stance on self-expression and societal protestation, heard best on 'megapunk' and 'they told us it was hard,' but even the instrumental interludes - of which there's four that vary in tonality, 'N19 5NF' plucked straight from Clark's chattering Tech House, for example - which feature titles like 'do whatever you want, all the time.' Given that English isn't Minus' first language, her elementary lyrics can be forgiven and, in the event of 'dominique,' actually heighten the appeal with quirky monotony a la The Knife's early career.
All this is to say, acts of rebellion is an enjoyable, well-rounded, intelligent Electropop record. Nothing tops 'they told us it was hard,' but nothing outright fails either. Even 'close,' the refrained, Ambient Pop closer with Helado Negro fits the mold with playful modesty and airy couth; the This Is How You Smile singer matching Minus' sparse, nocturnal intonation exquisitely. Though four instrumentals on a ten-track, 34-minute album may be overkill - 'pocket piano's' elvish keyboard coil standing out as best - there's no denying the quaint pacing helps Minus concentrate on cohesion without overindulging. acts of rebellion's atmospherics are top notch, diving into the dead of night with stark walls effuse with billowing embers, beckoning bodies to persevere with irresistible rhythms.
B
______________________________________________________
I've always enjoyed James Blake's music, but Before hits differently. This is inspired, forward-reaching while bargaining with his Future Garage past. The pacing of each track is exquisite, teasing and toying with patterns before lending a swath of orphic rhythms to the proceedings. 'I Keep Calling' is the most startling in this regard, straying from conventional Alternative R&B structuring by inviting dance floor passages typically reserved for EDM remixes. The combination of these elements is nothing short of astounding, with an effuse of textures both delicate and direct. 'Before' and 'Do You Ever' accomplish the same feat, as the former pulls tricks with chipmunk vocals and droning synthesizers that wouldn't be out of place on a Boards Of Canada record, while the latter quells the Glitch Pop extremity of 'If The Car Beside You Moves Ahead' with nocturnal grooves and brittle vocals. 'Summer Of Now' is the weakest cut here, for its slow anomalous build, but still morphs with grace and romantic vehemence that rests Before in loving amenity. An excellent EP.
B
______________________________________________________
2020 | Synthpop | Listen
THROWING BREWS AGAINST THE WALL, SEEING WHAT STICKS
Sigh. This one hurts. Numerous attempts were made, but to me - and I know I'll alienate countless here - Song Machine is no better than Humanz. In fact, on bad days where I'm picking apart the errant missteps, it's worse. Though I'll concede it's undoubtedly more consistent, but that works both ways. Humanz has more prevalent highs, while Song Machine has 'Aries' - a reincarnated New Order cut - and 'Momentary Bliss,' a legitimately wonderful example of Gorillaz's queer duck view on Hip-Hop. Their former compatriots, Del The Funkee Homosapian and De La Soul, would be proud. But beyond that, nothing excites me. Perhaps the allure of Gorillaz's mystique has worn off with age, an Internet-budding gimmick turned sour. 2-D, Murdoc, Noodle, and Russel Hobbs. None of them are here, their flair and rebellion replaced by Damon Albarn and friends TM.
To no one's surprise, some of these outlandish features work while others fail miserably. As a whole, 'Strange Timez' is a solid opener to kickoff the uptempo proceedings, but Robert Smith's voice has suffered tremendously over the years. The same could be said for Elton John, connected absurdly with the equally-as-grating 6LACK, for 'Pink Phantom,' a dour love song barely held afloat by syrupy production that reflects the singers' tenuous grasp on romance. It would be Song Machine's worst if not for 'Lost Chord,' which is, by and large, the most boring song Gorillaz have ever been apart of. Throw 'Valley Of The Pagans' and 'Dead Butterflies' into the batch at the bottom of the barrel, arousing no response greater than "meh" on my behalf. No amount of energy brought in by Beck could mask the sterilized, commercialized, mass-produced quality 'Valley Of The Pagans' has. It'll be featured in some hip commercial, guaranteed.
That's about it for negatives though, but boy are they crippling. Praise abound to the aforementioned 'Aries' and 'Momentary Bliss,' both benefitting from the diminishing attributes around them. Elsewhere, 'Chalk Tablet Towers' has some neat vocal distortions on St. Vincent and a melodic hook to boot, 'Pac-Man' manages to split the divide between Gorillaz's left field mannerisms and G-Funk (though Schoolboy Q's machismo isn't a condition I look for in the Gorillaz), and 'Désolé' is an all-around graceful cut that bears resemblance to Plastic Beach's fabricated tropicalia. Then there's 'Friday 13th,' which proudly sits as my third favorite. Hypocritical perhaps, considering my condemnation of 6LACK's vocals, Octavian nails the blubbering swain over some well-placed synthesizers. And that about sums up my experience with Song Machine, an album composed of imparting preferences. Like some, dislike others, the lack of topical theming burdens those in the latter group. It's a shame, for that Gorillaz spark has seemingly left me.
C
______________________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment