A not-exactly-thematic overview of some of the year’s most intriguing releases.
There exists an old wives’ tale that says a composer is destined to die after releasing their ninth symphony. I know very little about the truth behind this tale, but I am grateful to it nonetheless, since it serves as the tenuous bit of thematic linkage I need to dedicate a significant chunk of Stranded to my music opinions. As such, here comes my breakdown of some interesting recent releases. You’ll love it, as long as you can forget what this issue is supposed to be about.
Wednesday – Bleeds
Music to overdose on cough syrup in a forest to. Wednesday’s Bleeds is countrified shoegaze that breaks refreshingly from most country music in that it depicts life in a small town as almost entirely undesirable. It’s also sort of an intraband breakup album between the lead singer and lead guitarist: imagine Rumours if Stevie Nicks wrote all the songs and Lindsey Buckingham had to express his anger only through fuzzy guitar solos.
One to spin: “Wound Up Here (By Holdin’ On).”
Geese – Getting Killed
“I was in love, and now I’m in hell,” says Geese frontman and bellowing soothsayer Cameron Winter on “Bow Down.” He’s right, if hell means having a billion smug RateYourMusic guys pretending that your new album isn’t amazing because they want to be contrarian about Pitchfork giving it a 9. Getting Killed sees Geese graduating from the psych-rock hero worship and LSD-cowboyisms of their first two albums and embracing an ethos more inspired by Winter’s superlative solo work. It’s weird, it’s heartfelt, it rocks. There’s not much more you could want, except for producer Kenny Beats to have thrown in a “woah, Kenny” at some point.
One to Spin: “Long Island City Here I Come.”
Car Seat Headrest – The Scholars
One of last decade’s best and most acclaimed indie rock bands returns with an ambitious rock opera about a fictional university. Unfortunately, the listener seems to need a university degree of their own to parse what the hell is going on without the liner notes, which are included only in the gatefold of the album’s vinyl release and not otherwise published. On the one hand, this is a pretty funny vinyl sales strategy in its shamelessness, but on the other, it completely hamstrings the album as a work of art. Imagine Taylor Swift’s hilariously indulgent four-different-colours Midnights vinyl release, but if you didn’t have all four colours, the album played with all the proper nouns removed. Without context, the listener is left to stumble through the record’s assemblage of promising-but-shaggy songs, never quite knowing what’s going on. For a band that so eloquently translates the emotions of confusion and insecurity to song, this may be intentional – but that sure doesn’t make it work.
One to Spin: “Gethsemane.”
Stereolab – Instant Holograms on Metal Film
It’s a Stereolab album, guys. Do you like synthy lounge jazz? Do you like left-wing political radicalism? If you answered yes to both questions, you’ll love it. If you answered no to either, you’ll almost certainly find it intolerable. For the past few decades, Stereolab has been very sonically consistent. Though they began with a rougher punk edge, every album post-Emperor Tomato Ketchup has sounded like someone gave Burt Bacharach access to Pro Tools and a copy of Das Kapital. It’s a sonic and lyrical formula that’s almost guaranteed to divide opinion, but I’m an absolute sucker for it, and I will continue to be so until the members of Stereolab either hang up their vibraphones or perish while fighting in some revolution or another.
One to Spin: “Melodie Is a Wound.”