MUSIC REVIEWS, 11-4-2024

To take the edge off of the big day tomorrow, I figured I'd pop on in and give you a distraction from things.  Hear any good albums lately?  I have.  Especially:


The cover of Geordie Greep's "The New Sound".  A Japanese woman decapatates a business man sitting in the road with a scythe.  She kisses the severed head as it flies up to meet her.  A red blood trail goes from his neck all the way to the left of the picture.  The sky is canary yellow, a striking contrast.

Geordie Greep "The New Sound"

I've always wanted to connect with Black Midi, but never quite got there.  Helfire (2022) had it's moments, but the back half actively pissed me off.  Geordie Greep's vocal delivery drove me up the wall most of the time.  So you wouldn't think I'd be eager to hear an album from said frontman, but I heard a few clips and knew I had to give this a shot.

What got me in the door is there's more melody on this album; it gives me something to hang onto 'midst the maelstrom.  Black Midi is a whirling dervish of chaos (and this album is too, buckle up), but most times it's weird without earning its strangeness.  That's a recipe to breed annoyance rather than wonder.  

Here, I feel there's a few elements that give The New Sound a solid grounding: 70's Jazz Fusion, Brazilian Tropicalia (parts were recorded in Sao Paolo) and a narrative throughline for the material.  That  throughline is hella sleazy, but the music bolsters that atmosphere: the leisure suits with technical pinache (kinda like if John McLaughlin and Al DiMeola joined Steely Dan) and the Copa Cabana white guy tropical fusion definitely help set the scene for the characters on display.

The lyrics subtley take the piss out of men who think they have way more sexual prowess than they actually do.      By being the lyrics to a rock song, they also take the piss out of the grandeur-deluded penmanship of musicians who sing about being God-tier lovers.  There are literally millions of songs (in all genres) where dudes boast about getting some strange or being really good at sex, and here comes Geordie flailing in like a fucking tornado to put the exaggeration of all that shit to lie (by engaging in inflated hyperbole of the same).  The intent isn't specifically toward rock and roll, however: it's to mediocre dudes who think they're the shit when they're not.  (Lead single "Holy, Holy" was inspired by Andrew Tate bragging about how ISIS watched his content, for instance.)

Though much like a mediocre dude with delusions of grandeur, this album prattles on too long.

By the midway point, there were songs where I felt I heard this before (especially topic wise).  If you cut "Through A War", "Bongo Season" and "Motorbike", things would flow a lot smoother ("Motorbike" is definitely the low point).  Twelve minutes is a bit long for "The Magician" too.  The album ends with an iffy cover of an obscure Frank Sinatra song, but I'll give that a pass because the lounge lizard feel fits with the ambiance.

Over all, the good of this album is enough for me to consider it Top Ten worthy.  It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea (it's over an hour of jazz fusion with sleazy characters delivered in a very "acquired taste" vocal style), but it's intriguing, it has bombast and its sonic pallete is eclectic.  The New Sound is a sight to behold.


The cover of bye 2's "My Wife Is Drink Paint".  A brown-haired anime woman with serrated teeth stares over her glasses and smiles at the camera.  She sits on some kind of machine.  The borders of this cover are filled with white scrawls of hearts and cat drawings and a halo over the woman.  The color scheme is very pink, purple, brown and aquamarine.  An anime schoolgirl bottom left sticks her tongue out.  Another one just above her has no pupils and is wearing an N95.  A happy bunny figure is top right, kind of like bongo cat.  A label is on the top left corner saying "Kitty On Fire Records".

bye 2 "My Wife Is Drink Paint"

If Brat is EDM this is its fucked-up IDM neighbor that even Charli might call the cops on.  And honestly, IDM's not even the right descriptor, because this shit goes stupid.  There's a sample of "Antidepressant 044" in there from Serial Experiments Lain (I see what you did there; I also approve).  I haven't heard electronic music that's connected with me like this in a long time.  It's all high energy but kinda melancholy and fucked up, so perfect for Nick!  If you're looking to reconnect with a digital anemoiac 256-color soundscape from the 90s, Drinking Paint might be right for you.


The cover of "7" by Nelly Furtado.  A black and white photograph of Furtado standing with her back to the camera.  A "7" is painted on her back (digitally; it has some sparkles on it that, upon closer inspection, can't exist in reality).  She glances over her shoulder, giving the viewer side-eye.  She has her left thumb hitched into the waist of her jeans.

Nelly Furtado "7"

I wanted to like this, and through the first three songs I was starting to warm up to it a little, but too many trend-hoppy decisions made years too late, an almost rip off of Justin Bieber's "Intentions" (musically, not lyrically), and a lot of the lyrics being literal "la-da-da-da"s just cratered it for me.

It's not like there's nothing to this album, but there's very little.  Not nearly enough to grab onto.  It's only 37 minutes and it felt twice as long because it's 14 tracks, most of which are interchangeable.  If you want the best this album has to offer, take the first three songs, "Ready For Myself" and "Untitled" (which does stick out, sonically and emotionally) and skip the rest.


Hardy's "Quit!!".  It's a napkin that says "Quit!!" on it that's underlined.

Hardy "Quit!!"

This album shouldn't work, but it does.  It's dumb as hell, but it's not trying to be anything beyond that (unlike most of The Mockingbird & The Crow).  At least, not too far beyond that.  There's, like, a sincerity, an earnestness to some of this I wasn't expecting at all.  The sarcasm I expected, but all the "baby's first existential crisis" stuff toward the end of the album...kind of hit in a weird way?

Songs like "Happy Hour" and "Good Girl Phase" are frustrating because they're almost good except for the fatal flaw of...well, what?  That it's Hardy?  In and of itself, is that a flaw?  (Well, yes, I'm not gonna defend this shit.  I understand why it's at the paste-eating level of low brow.)  I dunno, I find this album fun, even if I wouldn't recommend it to anybody.  


"Congregation Of Dreams Vol. 3" by Foxy HxC Macfly.  A black and white picture of an anime woman, wide eyed with terror.  The title and artist name are presented inside tall, thin white brackets in the center of the bottom third.

Foxy HxC Macfly [F.H.x.C.M.] "Congregation Of Dreams - Volume 3"

G-Funk that could make its way onto the Chilled Cow Study Girl stream.  The vaporwave of 90's hip-hop and R&B (but y'know, distinct and good).  I know, calling something lofi just makes people tune out (because a lot of those channels are literally designed to be background music), but this has a sharpness in the production that gives it character.  It's a vibe, I'd check this out.


Halestorm's "Live At Wembley".  It's the band onstage, performing at Wembley Arena in London.

Halestorm "Live At Wembly"

In a sense, I've been waiting for this album for 15 years.  I saw Halestorm at the beginning of 2010, and realized "Wow, they're the real deal.  Wish their albums were better."  Halestorm's production has always been pretty safe, to the point where the band just blends into the background of rock radio with the exception of the paint-peeling pipes of lead singer Lizzy Hale.  But man, the band as a whole (especially the drummer) is better than you'd think a long-running third-tier butt rock band would be.

So yeah, a version of this band that doesn't sound like the "solved" presets of the last 20 years of rock production is just what I wanted.  Unfortunately their songs are still incredibly basic, especially in the lyric department, so 93 minutes of it is overkill.  It also doesn't help that some of them are tortured out anywhere from seven to twelve minute lengths.  They aren't bad necessarily, I just got kinda bored by halfway.

Lizzy Hale's voice is fucking indestructible.  She does things that a) should not even be humanly possible, and b) if they were, would wreck someone for a month if they did one of them.  She puts banshees to shame.  The drummer (Lizzie's little brother) shows off too much, but he's really good too so hey, it's rock and roll and they're putting on a show.  I won't hold it against 'em.

But like I said, an hour would have been enough for me, maybe 45 minutes, but this is over 90.  It's decent, but long and front-loaded.  (Seriously, track three is an eight and a half minute version of "I Get Off" that has a breakdown for the last two minutes that sounds like it should've ended the show.  It's such a "Bring The House Down" crescendo.)


That's gonna do it for now.  I hope the next time we meet, things will be better (at the very least a fair distance away from the edge of oblivion).  Til then, stay safe, stay hopeful, keep working.

You never know...

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