Here’s Some New Music I Like

Some music releases I’ve been enjoying lately:

Mrs. Piss – Self-Surgery

This is a bite-sized side project of Chelsea Wolfe, who is the reigning queen of hyper-intense, melodramatic rock music. While Wolfe has historically been known for slower, dynamically rich songs, on Self-Surgery she shows a different side of herself by amping up the aggression and tempo with help from drummer Jess Gowrie. It serves as a useful companion to her last solo album, Birth of Violence, which showed the other side of her artistry with a calmer, post-apocalyptic vibe.

Given the band name and imagery, which hints at body horror and trashiness, I actually expected this album to be more transgressive and discomforting than it is. Even when Wolfe is trying her hardest to make her music ugly, she can’t help but let some beauty slip out, and songs like “Downer Surrounded by Uppers” have catchy melodies even while taking on more of a hardcore punk structure. The lyrics of that song are in line with the rest of this album, which is the sound of introverts and weirdos unleashing their inner fury at the world. It’s nice to hear some music that actually reflects the rage that many of us are experiencing right now, and it does it without devolving into performative corniness.

Annie – “American Cars”

Grizzled indie pop veterans will recognize Annie, who turned many jaded indie rock snobs into begrudging pop fans with 2004’s Anniemal and 2009’s Don’t Stop. Those albums are classics in the “pop for music nerds” genre that would later be owned by artists like Carly Rae Jepsen, and now the Norwegian artist is preparing her first full-length album in 11 (!) years. “American Cars” is the first single and shows she still has a mastery of the craft and an ability to add deeper, subtler feeling into her tunes that eludes most of the pop artists you hear on the radio.

Noveller –Arrow

Sarah Lipstate serves as the guitarist for Iggy Pop and also records under the name Noveller. Her new album, Arrow, is a hypnotizing collection of ambient songs that form their own cinematic desert landscapes out of her electric guitar. I often struggle with ambient music because it either feels show-offy or impenetrable; Lipstate’s compositions have thought in every note, and she judiciously uses her considerable skill to make an album that is cohesive and vast. It’s surprisingly thrilling to listen to.

Dummy – Dummy EP

The first release from this band out of Los Angeles is the kind of noisy, motorik psychedelic sound that I’m constantly obsessed with. Over only five tracks, the band shows a lot of different sides of themselves on this promising debut. “Slacker Mask” is one of the bigger jams of the year and recalls mid-90s Stereolab pretty well, as does the opener “Angel’s Gear.” “Touch the Chimes” is a long, meditative droning track at the end that shows the band leaning more into folk. Nothing here is mind-blowingly new, but it’s executed so well that it becomes hard to deny, similar to the Peel Dream Magazine album from earlier in the year.

Bec Plexus – Sticklip

Sticklip is an increasingly rare treat: an album that doesn’t really sound like anything else. Plexus’ glitchy electronic sound and chatty, sometimes spoken vocals are most reminiscent of Laurie Anderson, but the themes and her personality are different enough that this album feels like its in its own world. She has presented this album as a “digital confession booth” with friends apparently writing lyrics about their deepest, darkest feelings, though the lyrics are more abstractions than anything that actually sounds like a straight-forward confession. “Mirror Image” is the major highlight; it’s a completely distinct, avant-garde song that confronts the self in a way that feels like a sci-fi movie.

Widowspeak’s New Single Brings Back Memories of Having a Job

Songs like Widowspeak’s new single, “Breadwinner,” that deal with the demotivation and stress of the workplace are rare, even though it’s a somewhat universal feeling among adults. This is because most musicians are either full-time artists or have a creative outlet that they use as an escape from their day job — I doubt many get home from their boring 9-5 and are like “I can’t wait to write about my day at work!” There is some risk in making music about such a mundane subject that listeners might want to get away from, but this band has found a niche on their last couple of albums by exploring uncomfortable feelings many people have and don’t talk about, specifically inertia, boredom, and the sometimes damaging effect of nostalgia.

At least that was my read on their last album, Expect the Best, which I ended up becoming a bit of a champion for because I related to it and loved the sound. Molly Hamilton and Robert Earl Thomas have always had the latter part down with their reverb-heavy ballads that fused country and shoegaze, but have fully clicked recently as they added this emotional core to their music. What makes it so effective is how the sound and lyrics work in tandem. The band’s sound is naturally nostalgic because of its 90s influences and Hamilton’s crooning vocals, so she started writing lyrics that dealt with looking back and feeling regret. Their songs tend to be quiet and slow-paced, so they focused on internal feelings of laziness and trying to find the energy to change that were supported by the lethargic performances.

“Breadwinner” continues on this path, with less guitar and more space than is typical for the band, and the sound and Hamilton’s lyrics capture the frustration of working a job you hate and stressing over it at home while also trying to function as a creative. Because of the timing of the track’s release, there is an unintended bit of nostalgia for me in the song, where it’s like: “Remember work? That thing where I used skills I’d developed in exchange for money, which I then exchanged for various goods and services? Those were crazy times.” I actually found myself missing the day-to-day repetitive grind over what’s happening now, where there is a similar level of boredom with an added level of anxiety over the world. So without really meaning to, the band has captured an extra layer of poignancy here for some listeners.

This song also functions as a bit of a foundational argument in favor of independent music. Ideally, artists wouldn’t have to take on day jobs to make a living, but it’s the reality we live in, and so bands like Widowspeak who grind like the rest of us can actually relate to our frustrations and stresses in a way that massively popular artists really can’t. I treasure songs like this that carve out a small space of their own articulate something that feels true.

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s “The Mosaic of Transformation” Offers Soothing Sounds in Troubling Times

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s new album, The Mosaic of Transformation, has the unenviable task of following, no joke, what I consider one of the greatest albums of all time in 2017’s The Kid. It will take some restraint not to turn this post into more gushing about that work, but suffice to say, it had a mix of childhood wonder and sophisticated pop songwriting that is shared only by a select few artists who I worship (Björk, Trish Keenan, that’s about it). Just to up the difficulty further, what made that album so remarkable was its execution of about the most ambitious concept you could try in music, which is telling the story of life. Where are you supposed to go after you’ve made an album that already captured everything? Such an album necessitates regrouping and trying something on a smaller scale, and that’s what Smith has done here, with a shorter series of songs focused around energy and the human body.

It’s a fitting theme for Smith, whose songs are made up of all these tiny interconnecting parts that combine to function against all reason. While on the surface her modular synthesizer noodling resembles new age background music (she did release an album specifically for yoga and meditation last year), it also appeals to obsessive types who enjoy being overwhelmed by little flourishes and touches that can be analyzed forever. One of the cool effects of The Kid was how all of her sounds that could feel random took on deeper meaning because of their connection to a narrative. A simple droning note and bird calls on “Who I Am & Why I Am Where I Am” became a moving piece on idly contemplating the self; the rapid percussion on “A Kid” brought to mind early childhood exploration and discovery as Smith seemed to be playing in her own musical sandbox. On The Mosaic of Transformation, her focus shifts from the evolving mind to something more physical; her bubbling, fluttery synth sounds now make me think of molecules or cells, and every song bursts with these little fragments of energy.

While Smith’s work recently has had her embracing more pop structure and melody, on The Mosaic of Transformation she dials back her voice and creates free-flowing compositions that use repetition to soothe the listener. The few lyrics on the album more resemble mantras than traditional storytelling, such as the refrain of “be kind to one another/we’re calming together” on “Remember.” The instrumental “Carrying Gravity” gradually piles on layers of strings and other sounds over its drones, creating a peaceful symphony of movement. The long closing track, “Expanding Electricity,” is the album’s densest song (and maybe the busiest of all of Smith’s songs in general, which is saying something), as all of the energy built up in the previous songs comes together to form a harmonious whole.

What’s missing for me on the album is any kind of narrative thread connecting the songs, which was such an important part of The Kid transcending its blippity-bloopity trappings. There is a high floor to Smith’s music because it is so creative and contains such thought and spirit, but without a central narrative, the multitude of sounds and flourishes start to lose meaning and it fades into the kind of background music that she expertly avoided on her previous two albums. The Mosaic of Transformation is also being released at a somewhat inopportune time: while its calming, peaceful sound provides some solace in this insane year, it also at times starts to border on being cloying and naïve, feelings that The Kid was able to harness because they fit its themes of wide-eyed childhood innocence. Smith’s unbounded positivity is admirable, but I’m beginning to wonder if there is a tipping point where it becomes too detached from the real world to be a valuable statement.

Those critiques come off harsher than I probably intend, only because I know how powerful Smith’s music is when she is able to connect her fascinating sounds with a fruitful story. She is still an expert at channeling her distinct charisma through her electronic tools, and this is another album that is identifiably hers and exists in its own musical space separate from what everyone else is doing. Just that alone makes this worthwhile in a blobby indie landscape that has fewer and fewer truly original voices. The Mosaic of Transformation is a step back for her, but it’s one that probably needed to happen. It still succeeds on its own terms and offers some serenity at a time when we could all use it.