The Singles Jukebox

Pop, to two decimal places.

Month: August 2019

  • Bonus Tracks for Week Ending August 31, 2019

    Before we get into September, we wanted to let you know: if you enjoyed Mark Sinker’s A Hidden Landscape Once a Week, there’s more where that came from! Sinker has a Patreon, which helps him continue to cover “a field rich in feuds and disputes, fads and weirdness.” He and Hazel Southwell also have a podcast in which they discuss issues related to the book and writing about pop more generally, and Southwell has a separate Patreon to fund her independent motorsport journalism.

    So: support writers! But even if you don’t have Patreon money at the ready, we have writing for you:

     

     

  • Vivian Girls – Something to Do

    The second biggest comeback of a band with “Girls” in their name this year!


    [Video][Website]
    [6.33]

    Ian Mathers: Sometimes, all I want out of music are guitars that I can use like a scouring pad on my fallible human brain, and enough sheer noise and a modicum of melody behind them so I can really get the scouring pad into all the nooks and crannies, and in those moments if you can give me that sensation I would give you anything.
    [8]

    Julian Axelrod: Growing up in LA at the height of the early 2010s indie surf revival, that specific strain of yoga grunge was my locally sourced bread and imitation butter. (While I somehow never got into Vivian Girls the first time around, I was obsessed with bassist Katy Goodman’s solo project La Sera.) So needless to say, this sort of scuzzy sun-soaked speedball is Extremely My Shit. I like how the hooky harmonies nearly get drowned out by the unrelenting guitar clang, but I love how they fight their way to the front. It’s a romantic take on despair that feels closer to LA legends X than the Beach Goth casualties of the Vivian Girls’ heyday. If I’m getting nostalgic from the reunion of a band I never listened to, there’s gotta be something there.
    [7]

    Michael Hong: Their three-part harmonies are good, yeah, but what’s the point of a good harmony if it’s buried under almost suffocatingly tight guitars and a thick layer of reverb?
    [5]

    Katie Gill: That sound mixing is very much “we’re going to mix this for the aesthetic” and a lot less “we’re going to mix this in a way where our vocalist is audible.” There’s the possibility of something fun here. But I legitimately couldn’t hear it.
    [4]

    Katherine St Asaph: I was not there for the Vivian Girls Wars, am less than thrilled about the re-litigation of The Complicated Feminist Legacy of Hipster Runoff accompanying their reunion, and seldom feel more deeply out of place than when reading about the old days. But I do historically love this sort of music; there’s just so much of it now (partly, to be fair, thanks to the Vivian Girls), and plenty stronger than “Something to Do.” The guitars jangle and the arrangement is beefy even before the whole thing almost turns into “One Way or Another” — but all that just highlights the fact that the melodic line is rather glum even given the subject.
    [6]

    Kalani Leblanc: Vivian Girls never approach their feelings with an entire scoff and jokey belittling like related garage bands (eg Tacocat and many other Seattle groups), but with a respect, half-scoff and shrug. Their songs articulate an understanding that one’s feelings seem ridiculous to onlookers, no matter how vivid they feel to oneself. Even “Take It As It Comes” is presented as a joke while fully resonating, and gives you a chance to laugh as they remind you of your own boy obsessions. These sincere, girlish songs coming from cool girls with bangs and nice glasses were a revelation to hear through their harmonies and fuzzed strings. Flash forward eight years later: Cassie, Ali and Katy are back and release something practically the same. Not that “Something to Do” could have been a release in their heyday, but it’s the same ol’ Viv Girls with maturity applied. That maturity makes a slight switch and mellows them down. Cassie may be forever bored, but isn’t the same girl behind her still blonde-brown bangs. Though I could be wrong and it’s just that LA has changed them, but Vivian Girls are forever.
    [8]

  • Missy Elliott – Throw It Back

    [4], my people?


    [Video][Website]
    [4.71]

    Nortey Dowuona: EEEEEEEEE (but seriously, the low, humming bass and sliding, slinky drums that Missy slots on and walks to Durban over the Atlantic with are really guud.)
    [9]

    Julian Axelrod: Missy Elliott inspires such infectious joy in my dumb gerbil brain that she effectively parries any critiques my angry rat brain might lob at a new single. (YES I have two brains YES they’re both from rodents YES scientists are baffled and disgusted!!!) Is “Throw It Back” too simple and contemporary for such a forward-thinking artist? Or is this beat the sound of culture catching up with Missy, its woozy whine and low-flying drone a Pollock paint splash on the blueprint she created? Is this the coronation of Elliott’s 2010s nostalgia tour, more preoccupied with exalting her past then defining her future? Rejoinder: Haven’t the last few years taught us to celebrate our icons while they’re still present and vital and making videos that look like someone poured acid into Lemonade? (And even if her bars are self-referential, bragging about producing for Tweet in the 90s is an unbelievable flex.) And the question that kept gnawing at me: Doesn’t this feel like it could kinda be done by any other rapper? The irony is that plenty of artists will try to recreate it; the beauty is that none will succeed.
    [7]

    Kylo Nocom: Leikeli47 valiantly claimed her spot as the heir to Missy Elliott’s legacy a couple years back; Missy responds by stooping down to the former’s level of monotonous hooks, bafflingly basic club beats, and corniness that pervade the former’s catalog. A kind tribute that probably goes off outside of active listening, but not worth waiting until I’m 21 to figure that out.
    [3]

    Alfred Soto: Even for a genre that has thrived on callbacks to evanescent glories — a phenomenon in which Missy Elliott herself participated — “Throw It Back” casts itself as a nostalgia move of unexpected lethargy. Fourteen years on from the era of 50 Cent and The Game and Iraq, what aural signposts does Missy offer for a generation that may recognize nothing more than her moniker? The beat’s at best eh, and the languor of her delivery lacks charisma. 
    [4]

    Micha Cavaseno: Last week when Missy Elliott dropped her latest EP, I had to stop and reflect on the fact that it was close to three and a half years ago that her initial talks of a comeback began. Despite being Missy-agnostic for a lot of my life, I thought “Where They From” was complimentary to all of her strengths and the right sort of note to return on, but it revealed a greater issue for her: how does a woman approaching her 50s fit in the ever ageist, still relatively sexist, and incredibly disposable landscape of rap? Especially one whose specific lane of blurring R&B, rap and pop is now commonplace but also drastically shifted in tone from what the present day younger audience demands. In the same way a teenager now probably can’t inherently grasp what made Wu-Tang or Outkast appreciable, a time barrier exists for Missy. So what to do? “WTF” was a good burst of nostalgia but didn’t make any real radio traction, and nor did it impress newer listeners (the less said about follow-up attempts like “Pep Rally” the better). Becoming an adult-oriented “legacy artist” didn’t suit the perception of Missy and would also have made her rely on what aren’t her strengths (go back to “Pass The Dutch” and it’s easily her worst single of all time). All these issues come forth on “Throw It Back”, a song that has a video which literally begins with an innocent child being told she’s Supposed To Care about Missy Elliott when frankly, there’s dozens of rappers closer to her age borne from the battles that Missy won. Likewise her rapping, boasting about bearing multiple progeny, is relying on a recognition of how important she is based on history and status. This isn’t assailable based on truth, but it’s baffling to think this would be “cool” or “fun”, which are normally some of the easiest adjectives to throw at Missy Elliott. Even the beat itself doesn’t sound particularly energetic, instead a gross squelch of faux-trap that feels years dated. It’s a bitter pill to swallow that in order to impress upon listeners her value, Missy Elliott would make a song that’s so joyless and uninspiring that it ultimately betrays her iconoclasm. 
    [0]

    Edward Okulicz: My jaw dropped when Missy dropped “She’s a Bitch” all those years ago with its incredibly menacing, minimalist groove. It really did sound ahead of the game. “Throw It Back,” obviously, harkens back to that idea, and functions something like a low-key greatest hits package for her. Silly noises, braggadocio that’s fun and good cheer. Missy Elliott of 2019 sounding like the Missy Elliott of the past is okay by me.
    [7]

    Joshua Lu: A rare instance where, instead of trying to build on her legacy, it feels like Missy Elliott is cashing in on it instead, this time with a painfully inert single lacking in any takeaways other than it being attached to her first body of work in fourteen years. Ah well, she’s long since earned the right to be disposable.
    [3]

  • Charlie Puth – I Warned Myself

    Some of us would have appreciated the heads-up too, Charles…


    [Video][Website]
    [4.33]

    Kylo Nocom: All Charlie Puth had to do to make a scary song was remove the funk from a Voicenotes cut. What we get is more of his tired infidelity paranoia and a sound clip of him choking. Huh.
    [2]

    Alex Clifton: I really hate admitting that Charlie Puth can make good music because I’m going to die mad about that one cursed song, but this is addictive. The harmonies are the closest I’ve heard to FutureSex/Lovesounds in a decade and I immediately had to replay this. There’s some melodic retread here reminiscent of “Attention” (which I also liked, tbh) and the entire music video is Puth giving his best Nick Jonas ~sexy~ impression which I don’t buy visually but dammit, this is very nice and slinky. I just wish he’d stop giving his albums lame titles like Voicenotes because that’s the kind of stuff that betrays the fact that he’s a very good songwriter.
    [6]

    Katherine St Asaph: Like a science experiment where you submerge a Billie Eilish song into acid, and it breaks down into its component parts of FutureSex/LoveSounds, “Heartless,” and somehow “Look What You Made Me Do” (that first “I” is really close). Dissolved away are such things as vocal fortitude and song structure. Docked a point because the gruesome thought occurred to me that the “hands around my throat” sound effect is there because someone involved read Twitter memes about people finding it hot.
    [3]

    Alfred Soto: His worried, furtive keyboard patches and the welcome intimacy of his arrangements suggest a kinship with Billie Eilish, albeit with larger royalty statements and an interest in hitting on anything that moves so he can lament getting turned down. Knocked down a notch for the choking sound, which is at least unexpected.
    [7]

    Kayla Beardslee: Puth loves his filthy bass lines and lyrics about cartoonishly devilish women. This song is clearly following in the footsteps of “Attention,” but the magic of “Attention” was that its minimal production gradually built up into something more layered and explosive. That doesn’t happen here: “I Warned Myself” competently fits together its harmonies and slinky synths, but it feels too flat, too unchanging, to create any impactful moments.
    [5]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: As the bass line and chorus percussion pulsate like a hypnotic metronome, a love-wounded Charlie Puth sings barely above a whisper, like he’s letting you in on a sexy, dangerous secret that isn’t his to tell. Not all warnings need be heeded. 
    [6]

    Michael Hong: Charlie Puth stands out in the pop landscape for his attention to background detail and ability to make each chorus slightly different from the last, as with the introduction of drums on the second verse, fresh harmonies, and buried ad-libs across “I Warned Myself.” But the question remains: should Charlie Puth gagging be the most interesting part of any track?
    [4]

    Joshua Lu: Charlie Puth has mentioned that he, like many artists I’m sure, cringes when he listens to his old music, and I’m sure he means his offensively Caucasian college stuff as much as he does his milquetoast debut album. I wouldn’t be surprised if, five years from now, Puth cringes when he listens to “I Warned Myself” — I can tell he’s trying to follow the path that “Attention” carved out, with affected vindication made unsettling by his falsetto. But it’s too labored to be enjoyable and too edgy to be taken seriously (best exemplified by that cartoonish choke in the second verse). Worst of all, it’s tying to force its way into a dark-pop niche that Billie Eilish has already conquered.
    [4]

    Micha Cavaseno: … Like yeah man, I’m not even mad at the Groove Theory interpolation. It’s just that this song is massively half-baked by Puth standards (which is a standard, skeptics may doubt). It also indulges everything about Puth that should be avoided: his frail falsetto and exceptionally ridiculous persona that can’t project the sort of darkness and intensity he thinks this song commands. He went for Weeknd, he ended up closer to trailer music for a Killing Eve Season Finale. Drastic misstep.
    [2]

  • Shaed – Trampoline

    Shaed never maed anybody less gaey…


    [Video]
    [4.33]

    Kylo Nocom: A VSCO trampoline sleepover gone wrong: intriguing at first when it gets dark, but ruined by the inconveniences that should have been anticipated anyways. Shaed’s night disappointingly ends indoors, the coolness of “Trampoline” all but shed by the stupid whistle-drop and an anti-climactic ending.
    [3]

    Oliver Maier: Manicured electropop in this vein tends to fill my heart with dread, even moreso when it’s in 12/8, so it’s nice that this isn’t a disaster; most elements range from enjoyable to inoffensive, though I’d rather the key-word for a song called “Trampoline” be “fun” rather than “moody”. Structurally, it lets itself down twice in the last stretch, firstly by paying off two minutes’ worth of build with a flimsy, whistled drop, and then by hinting at another climax in the final chorus that never arrives. There’s a [7] in here somewhere, but it’s too undercooked as is.
    [5]

    Alex Clifton: This was honestly okay until I realized the backing sounded like an Imagine Dragons song. Now I can’t unhear it. I’m also deeply annoyed that the band’s name is spelled oddly but pronounced “shade,” which is the most Hyacinth Bucket/Bouquet thing I’ve ever witnessed.
    [3]

    Katherine St Asaph: Significantly more sonically interesting — a 12/8 swagger, prickly synth burbles at the back, some haunted background vocals — than the usual alternative-radio pattern of “anodyne hit that somehow slow-burns its way to No. 1.” But employing those hits’ la-las and whistles undercuts any seriousness or danger the song was building to.
    [6]

    Edward Okulicz: Whistles, like explosives and semicolons, are too dangerous to use if you don’t know what you’re doing, and Shaed learns this the hard way. The song has a real slinky creep to it, which somehow feels very 90s. But that whistling breaks the spell every time.
    [6]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: For something so clearly designed to soundtrack sleek ads for phones/laptops/fast cars/etc, “Trampoline” sounds remarkably retro. The points of reference for generic alt-pop haven’t updated since AWOLNATION was hot, and despite all of the hooks crammed into that old frame, “Trampoline” is almost resolutely anti-catchy. 
    [3]

  • Taylor Swift – Lover

    We’re mostly likers!


    [Video]
    [6.61]

    Tobi Tella: Gentle, passionate, and legitimately beautiful. For a song by someone who’s normally thinkpiece-inducing, I don’t want to think or look at this critically at all. I just want to sit and be enveloped by pure emotion (also a famous London boyfriend).
    [8]

    Joshua Lu: Hot Girl Summer is over and Christian Girl Autumn fast approacheth, heralded by this ode to monogamy that’s touching and pretty in all the obvious ways — at least until the bridge. Taylor Swift, perhaps understanding the inherent cheesiness of ballads like this, pushes the song to its campiest limits as she spins cliche marriage vows to be lyrical and silly. The way she promises at the end to be “overdramatic and true” hints at how she’s knowingly playful here, and it’s a clever way to enhance this particular kind of song to its hyperbolic end. If only the rest of the song weren’t too comfortable just being a “Thinking Out Loud” redux, then it might be worth revisiting. 
    [4]

    Jessica Doyle: It’s fine! It’s pretty, it’s soft, it’s got echoes of Maddie & Tae (in that lifted “close” in the chorus); Taylor sells the jealousy line as a self-deprecating in-joke that the video chose to play straight. It’s a perfectly fine song, all the better for not requiring any additional knowledge to decode. It’s a nice high note to leave on. So, without speaking for anyone else, I am adopting the belief that Lover is a stand-alone single released with very little promo by a talented but otherwise unremarkable country-crossover singer, whom this blog will get around to covering again in, oh, 2026 or so.
    [6]

    Alfred Soto: Impeccable craft. Facts are facts. The use of echo, the voluptuousness of Taylor Swift’s vocal prodding the acoustic strumming, the overdramatic middle eight/bridge in which she swears “to be overdramatic and true to my lover” — I need a nap after such a bounteous feast. The other lyrics fascinate me less; the line about Christmas lights staying up is Creative Writing 1102, Week 3: Using Precise Detail. But the yearning in “Lover” is closer to autocratic than tender, which, to her credit, she sees as indistinguishable. 
    [7]

    Michael Hong: I once read a comment section where someone referred to Taylor Swift as the “queen of long bridges.” Since then, I may have forgotten where I read it, but it remains something that I think is completely true and when Taylor Swift is at her best, she masterfully writes bridges. Her best bridges are midnight realizations, headbanging depictions of the crushing weight of heartbreak, or the anxious and relieving reminders of failing relationships. They often unfold as tightly-wound emotional revelations and are never without their cathartic release. But sadly, going by the early Lover singles, Taylor Swift may have lost her knack for great bridge-writing, producing the infamously cheesy “spelling is fun!” or a slightly too childish reference to Humpty Dumpty. “Lover” is no different. While “Lover” paints a grand picture of romance, everything feeling like just one of the many real possibilities, the bridge spoils the sketch, playing out like an obsessive fever dream. Contrast the way Taylor Swift sings the word “lover” on the chorus, which seems to resolve all anxiety and stop time around it, with the schmaltzy over-the-top way she stretches out the same word on the bridge until it becomes so mawkishly corny, it loses all meaning. It immediately takes you out of the romantic waltz of the rest of the track and into the overdramatic musings of a diaristic fantasy that would have been embarrassing even if read from an actual teenager’s diary. The bridge is full of various awkward and uncomfortable moments from the moment we hear “ladies and gentlemen” through Taylor Swift’s egregiously awkward and choppy talk-singing that seems to be on full-display across Lover — it didn’t work on “You Need to Calm Down” and it certainly doesn’t work here. All’s not lost because of the bridge, and I’m certain I could still get lost in the beauty of the rest, but there’s certainly more realistic passion and romance in one line of the chorus than there is across that entire bridge.
    [5]

    Ian Mathers: The sound, all that dusky reverb and brushed drums, is pretty lovely. Most of the song works well too, although god she lands hard on that title every single time it comes up, eh? I know I’m supposed to have a more complex reaction to Taylor Swift, but I got so burned out on the competing takes it’s hard to focus more than “a pretty nice song I’ll be fine hearing on the radio that has some clunky bits”.
    [6]

    Vikram Joseph: Love songs are a hard sell; the best ones make you overwhelmed with joy for the protagonist, or make you believe that you one day you could have all of that happiness for yourself, but that kind of listener empathy takes real skill to engender. “Lover” sounds smug and entitled, like your posh acquaintance who’s never had to struggle for anything (emotional or material) in their life boring you to death down the pub about their wedding plans. The aggressively cloying middle-eight perfectly encapsulates drink number three, when they’re off on one about their honeymoon plans (an all-inclusive resort in Dubai) while you’re remembering why you’ve only seen them twice since uni and wondering whether you can get a lobotomy on the NHS. And yes, it sounds a lot like Mazzy Star, but if I want to listen to a reimagining of “Fade Into You” I’ll head straight for “Coming Down” by the Dum Dum Girls, thanks.
    [3]

    Katherine St Asaph: Early reports likened “Lover” to ersatz Mazzy Star (a reminder of what they actually sound like), when what it’s clearly trying to be is “Hallelujah,” and given the sparkly perkiness of the bridge and all beyond, quite possibly the Pentatonix version. The rest is the usual Taylor Swift problem: the song’s supposedly about a “magnetic force of a man” but sounds like it’s about a Build-a-Bear.
    [2]

    Sonia Yang: Cozy, intimate, and eschewing glitzy synths in favor of drawing upon her country roots. Rather middle of the road for an album title track, but it’s packed with neat little bits such as that relaxed swing-y 6/8, the way everything cuts out for Swift to sing the “lover” at chorus end, and Swift’s breathy head voice. It’s not a big track but it doesn’t have to be. However this is something I can see myself loving much more life than on record; without the immediate atmosphere to bask in, it does feel a bit underwhelming. 
    [6]

    Edward Okulicz: “Lover” sits in the middle of songs on its parent album for me — it’s beautifully made, but like a few of its midrange peers has one or two things that annoys me. Here, it’s the word itself — not “lover,” but “luvv-verrrr.” It’s not that it’s a weirdly coquettish thing for her to say, because Swift has always done the modern girl dreaming of the romances of literary greatness, although usually she’s a little bit more creative (“Starlight”) or subversive (“White Horse”). No, it’s just that I don’t like how she sings that one word and it feels gratuitous in a song that doesn’t really need a slightly anachronistic, coquettish touch to it. Other than that, no complaints about a lovely melody, delicate production and a performance that radiates relief and warmth and comfort. Probably an 8 in a month, but not yet.
    [7]

    Rachel Bowles: I never truly believed the old Taylor was dead, the romance of reputation’s ‘Delicate’ hinted at it, and Lover’s eponymous single confirms it. It’s a wistful, waltzing, breathless ode to long term relationships, making a home and real life happy endings- Taylor’s teenage ‘Mine’ fully realised.
    [7]

    Alex Clifton: I fell in love with Taylor Swift’s music when I was nineteen and heartbroken. Speak Now carried me through a time when all I wanted to feel was loved and complete instead of the broken mess of a teenager I was. I thought I wanted a fairytale love myself, grand gestures and bouquets of roses and a partner who would shout their love for me to the city, but I couldn’t even have a real conversation with the people I had crushes on. Needless to say, it didn’t happen. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to mend my own heart and really open myself up to love. Eventually, I found someone and learned that love lives in the smallest things. He knows the way I take my tea and holds me when I cry; I know his regular orders at restaurants and tell him stories at midnight to keep his anxiety at bay. I never knew I’d prefer a quieter love to something all-consuming that burned red to the point of self-immolation. Instead I revel in the moments we have while walking around our favourite park, playing Scrabble in a cafe, reading together in bed. Swift has found the same sort of security and has carried this feeling into one of her best songs in years. “Lover” is a sun-drenched lazy ode to love itself and is the song that Swift’s been building to her whole career, complete with wedding vows. It’s a mature outlook on what love can and should be–something that fills each quiet moment between all the drama and major events, a strong feeling that can’t be knocked down by a single fight or small mistake. Even with the occasional overdramatic moment (lovahhhhhhhhhh) it’s made me remember how much I love my partner each time I’ve heard it, which is what the best love songs should do.
    [10]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The paradox of Taylor Swift is that all of her songs are inherently flashpoints in the discourse, even when there’s nothing to talk about. “Lover” is the least controversial thing that Swift has done in years, both in intention and execution, and yet there’s still no way to talk about it without talking about Taylor Swift, Important Pop Star And Cultural Figure. It’s true that this becomes true of any sufficiently big pop star, yes– but since (at very least) “Mean,” Swift’s music has been written like it’s almost exclusively commentary about her own reputation. Yet the thing about “Lover,” all the way down to its title, is that it’s uncomplicated. It’s maybe the least complicated single she’s ever put out– it’s a love song with no twist, an acoustic ballad that’s content to just be a big, stately acoustic ballad. It does its job– the song will undoubtedly soundtrack twinkly-lighted summer weddings for the rest of eternity, and I won’t even be mad. Because underneath it all, Taylor Swift is a pretty damn good songwriter when she doesn’t feel the need to excessively perform the role of Taylor Swift. The lyric is full of lines that were clearly written with pride and skill– the bit about guitar string scars on the bridge, most obviously– but it doesn’t feel as obsessed with the self as, say, anything on “You Need To Calm Down.” And in letting the song breathe and stand for itself, she manages to reinvent herself: not as a pop megastar or some empire unto herself, but as a craftsman that happens to be the biggest thing in pop music. It’s a compelling guise, and one that feels refreshing after a decade long media slog. But the greatness of “Lover” ends up leaving me feeling more skeptical of the rest of Swift’s work than ever.
    [8]

    Kylo Nocom: Taylor replaces the pain of what ended up happening with the comfort of what could have been. Her fairy tale ending is real, but “Lover” is generous enough to let one believe every single thing here can exist forever and ever. The spacious drums sound like they could have been recorded from the moon; that string-plucked bridge came from heaven.
    [8]

    Isabel Cole: Having had some time to acclimate to the roller coaster kinda rush of Taylor following up the two worst songs of her career with the first album of hers I’ve ever genuinely loved, I’m content enough now to say I just think this is wonderful: unhurried, cozy like a well-worn sweater, pretty without showing off, knowingly nostalgic without being cloying, humbly besotted. Impressive that after half a lifetime making music Taylor is still deepening her skill as a vocalist, finding new clarity and a few welcome hitches; her performance, like her writing here, works by not working too hard, all the more convincing for not needing argue its merits. The fact that Taylor sees leaving the Christmas lights up till January as a show of deep intimacy is as hilarious as it is completely believable — no one who’s not a bit of a control freak winds up with their face plastered on UPS trucks. Similarly, I’m so genuinely endeared by “at every table, I’ll save you a seat,” coming from an artist who was writing songs bearing the sting of her lifelong dweebishness well into her era of global acclaim: marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to sit alone! It’s hard to imagine that when she recorded the breathless final act of Love Story she could have envisioned that one telling a love story would sound as easy as this.
    [8]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Every time I’m on the verge of disowning Taylor Swift for her terrible choice in singles, she releases something like this. “Me!” was an infantilizing failed experiment at camp, “You Need to Calm Down” was surprisingly thoughtful social commentary let down by a dud of a song, and “The Archer” sounded like a forgotten Hunger Games soundtrack cut. “Lover”, though, is a timeless, gorgeous vignette of domesticity, mature in its lyricism and warmly familiar in its sound. It’s the most compelling Taylor Swift has sounded since “New Year’s Day.”
    [9]

    Jonathan Bradley: On early hit “Love Story,” Taylor Swift punctuated a marriage proposal with a key change. The moment is one of ecstatic joy: a fairytale promise fulfilled beyond the bounds of reality. “Lover” sounds like a proposal, too — her vow to be “overdramatic and true” is both lovely and gently self-aware — but it’s a rich and grounded union that finds more to happiness than the relief of a promise “you’ll never have to be alone.” It is a song of brushed drums, slow steps and brocade, a “Speak Now” from the altar and not the jealous aisles, of pleasure in shared domestic spaces where friends can stay over and Christmas decorations can stay up. There are no princes and bare promises, but Swift sings it with an awe even her earliest romances could not conceive.
    [9]

    Hannah Jocelyn: Continuing my series of altering professionally produced music, I created an alternate tracklist of Lover, creating an 11 track 40 minute concept album about a battle between naivety and maturity. It goes from a scattered pop album to a fun-size Once I Was An Eagle. On this closer, love definitively wins out. “Lover” is Swift and Antonoff’s take on 50s rock; purposefully campy and over-the-top, but genuine in a way that the first two singles from this era did not. As a closer, it resolves a lot of the tensions that have plagued Swift’s work this decade, giving her a happy ending… but as the third track, it’s baffling. I should not have to make my own context for this to take on a meaning, but that’s also the whole point of pop music. (At least, it was before albums became more of a status update for an artist’s life than a complete body of work.) I was on the fence about docking a point because “forever and ever” gave me “Jerika” flashbacks, but it’s just a phrase that can only be given weight if someone genuinely believes in it. Kind of like “true love.”
    [6]

  • The 1975 – People

    The 1975 you know is gone! THEY’RE HARDCORE NOW!!!


    [Video]
    [5.56]

    Alex Clifton: As far as the lyrics & delivery go: a truly punk song, a well-needed wakeup call, and Healey’s screaming is how I have felt literally every day for the last four years, which I deeply appreciate. As an actual single: I can listen to this maybe once a month because it’s super dissonant and honestly does not help with my constant anxiety that the world will end shortly.
    [5]

    Kylo Nocom: Rightfully devastated punk that would probably sound a lot better if it didn’t just seem like yet another damned attempt by the 1975 at appeasing the indie crowd through art-y posturing. Really, throw shit at their debut all you want, they knew exactly what they wanted to do and did all of it with near-perfect pop sheen. Their obsession with their own legacy has led to their musical downfall, and now we have to listen to them condescend and uphold it as somehow significant, as if there aren’t artists with significantly more to say than Matty Healy that don’t have the resources to have their voices heard. Eclecticism does not equal talent; Healy’s inanities will not save us.
    [3]

    Alfred Soto: “Syndrums? What syndrums?” Blustering through a rawk number showing little sweat, The 1975 write a Marilyn Manson take on “Love It If We Made It.” It likely portends nothing except increased facility.
    [5]

    Ryo Miyauchi: “People” as just the music is something I can’t resist. Matty strutting to the beat of loud ass rock riffs with the tones bleeding from the seams? The guy singing like a snot-nosed know-it-all jerk in love with the spotlight, audibly kissing the camera? He may not be good at screaming as much as he think he does, but him simply giving himself to the moment sounds good enough. But if he also hopes to say something, and for me to feel like he actually did, well, this isn’t exactly it. I’ve long understood that Matty lives in the same fucked-up world as me — that’s what “Love It If We Made It” made sure to do after all — but I’m honestly exhausted from songs that’s reportage and not much else. I can see the world burn down from my own eyes too! If Matty, or whoever else in pop, wants to say something, I need them to expand upon that blank between “republic’s a banana, ignore if you wanna” and “fuck it, I’m just gonna get food, girls, gear.” Ignoring is easy, I know, but that self-care via self-indulgence can’t do much to help anymore. What exists beyond it when it’s no longer the go-to step? Matty doesn’t have the answer for that here.
    [6]

    Micha Cavaseno: The only man who apparently decided that The (International) Noise Conspiracy was just what the world needed, long after even the actual T(I)NC was dissolved, would naturally be Matty Healy. Plenty of ‘people’ have misattributed this song to sounding like Marilyn Manson’s “Beautiful People” which is an association I just simply don’t hear at all. Instead I get a lot more of Manic Street Preachers, The Hives, The Blood Brothers, T(I)NC and even their frontman’s prior band Refused’s last moments. When the soon to be released 1975 album was discussed even in the build for last year’s listless and dissatisfying A Brief Inquiry… constant invocations of the band’s past as a journeyman post-hardcore act that probably would’ve died a death in the lower-tier nostalgia bin alongside earthtone9, Devil Sold His Soul, SikTH, Rinoa or The Ocean Fracture. The fodder of so many long gone myspace pages and collections of patches. Now it feels that era is being discussed with a genuine affectionate nostalgia again; and if there’s anything this band loves to key in on, it’s genre nostalgia. Do they land it? Maybeish. Straight Ahead Rock has admittedly felt less capable in The 1975’s hands unless filtered into Glastonbury Festival Anthems a la “Robbers”, so hearing them try to defiantly thrash while remaining groovy is either endearing or slight. Still, I admittedly can’t think of a 1975 album yet where the key single was the leading one, so for now it feels just like a proposition of yet another shape-shifting going down.
    [6]

    Oliver Maier: Post-hardcore with traces of 13-era Blur could have been the key to finally converting me to the church of the 1975, but this still isn’t doing it for me. I don’t doubt that Matty Healy is concerned about *vague hand gesture* the state of things, but for a band so aware that sincerity is indeed scary, I always feel as though their ventures into new sonic territory are the product of a desire to impress rather than earnestly communicate, that they might dip their toes into afrobeats or flirt with trap drums only because people don’t expect them to. Which isn’t a crime! But the punk signifiers here feel like just that: signifiers, gesturing at a genre that’s all about urgency in an attempt to reverse-engineer that same quality, but capturing none of its essential recklessness. I prefer the unhinged vocal here to Healy’s usual crooning, but paired with lyrics that modulate between the generic, the outright dreadful and the word “fuck” a whole bunch, it’s just not enough to dispel the impression of a calculated facsimile of protest music. I could see myself softening on this if the rest of Notes on a Conditional Form sticks to the same sound, which might suggest some real commitment rather than the sense that the 1975 are still just trying on new masks and expecting an A for effort. But I’m not holding my breath.
    [4]

    Rachel Bowles: I was lucky enough to hear this song for the first time live and witness the crowd erupt with infectious anger and joy- somehow knowing every single word of this days old song. There was something truly palpable, political and vital there, Healy has told the press he’s never felt more like he’s in a punk band and experiencing ‘People’ live, it’s not hard to hear why. At the time I described it as “a Marilyn Manson meets Glassjaw-esque punk screed with enough F-bombs to satisfy even the most discerning teenage contrarian… an anthem that screams with the rage of billions of millennial and Gen Z 99 percenters, powerlessly watching the world burn (literally) as Donald Trump and Boris Johnson pat themselves on the back.”Had I not clearly seen Healy & co in front of me, I would never have pegged ‘People’ as a 1975 song- this new venture into raw punk, however impressive, is just another string in the bow of band that is constantly reinventing themselves.
    [8]

    Hannah Jocelyn: Let’s unpack the worst line in “People”!  Part 1: “My generation wanna fuck Barack Obama”: A decade ago this might have been a reference to “Crush on Obama,” but now any given Gen Z socialist will tell you that Obama wasn’t progressive enough, that he was a neoliberal centrist, etc etc. So it’s more like fuck Barack Obama. Double meanings! Part 2: “living in a sauna”: Could be a climate change reference, but with the next line it’s more likely to be a hotbox joke. More double meanings! Except the idea that Earth is itself a hotbox is both funnier and more evocative. Part 3:Legal marijuana”: Both a long-delayed Halsey comeback for that one line in “Colors” and a catalyst for even more double meanings! there’s the aforementioned hotbox joke, or it’s the ever-ubiquitous “using drugs to numb the pain” thing.  Conclusion: This line both says a lot of things and says absolutely nothing, which is what anyone who hates this song will think it does. Oh right, there’s a song attached. And it’s fantastic. The mix of a gritty aesthetic with bright, clean guitar tones. The ability to make a tuneless song sound as catchy as “Chocolate” but inexplicably less anoying. This is everything I’ve wanted the 1975 to do, or anyone to do when everything in all genres sounds so listless and geared towards Playlists. Even Idles pandered with the whole ‘ten points to Griffyndor’ thing. The 1975 is virtually only pandering to emo kids with this one. And edgelords, hopefully putting them on a path to salvation instead of hatred. Or not. Whoever it’s for, I’m glad it exists.
    [9]

    Edward Okulicz: Honestly, I know that throwing reductionist comments at male pop stars stepping outside their apparent lane isn’t a curative against how such things have been levelled at women over the years, but my initial, and second, and third, and fourth reaction to this song is “omg Matty Healy just shut up and be a pop star, you know, something you’re really good at.” I’ll be over here in sensitivity training if you need me.
    [4]

  • Swae Lee ft. Drake – Won’t Be Late

    Miraculously only the fourth Drake song we’ve covered this year…


    [Video]
    [3.33]

    Alfred Soto: Finally — a stream-consolidating collaboration that draws upon the best of its credited artists. Tekno and Mike WiLL Made-It program a frisky Caribbean house beat over which faint sax squiggles and Swae Lee at his most ethereal suggest 21st-century Sade, of all things. Even Drake is acceptable. Credit them for remembering “Passionfruit.” 
    [7]

    Tobi Tella: If a summer banger is released at the end of the summer, does it even make a party impact? Not that this makes much of an impact in any meaningful way. King of hooks Swae Lee unfortunately couldn’t put out anything memorable, and as much as I would love to rant about Fucking Drake, his verse is perfectly normal, boring and anonymous.
    [4]

    Jibril Yassin: A middling half-step forward from the mess that was Swae Lee’s solo debut — or perhaps is it a cautious step back? “Won’t Be Late” sounds like a joke taken too far; whoever has convinced Swae Lee (and Drake, to that effect) that he’s making magic out of his limited vocal delivery (and imagination) must be mortified. 
    [1]

    Oliver Maier: Swae Lee can be magnetic when his head’s in the game, but he couldn’t sound less interested here; to his credit, though, just about anyone would struggle to sell melodies this pointless. Stay awake long enough and maybe you’ll register Drake manifesting halfway through with more of his patented listless crooning. A disappointment, given that Tekno’s afrobeat instrumental is a cut above the usual crossover fare, rising to textured climaxes without losing momentum. 
    [3]

    Will Adams: Mike WiLL Made-It turns out a house beat that sounds warm and intimate — like you’re hearing it from across your neighbor’s wall. Unfortunately, Swae Lee’s lazy approach to phrasings (“at this game, two can play”) and Drake’s even lazier approach to melody makes “Won’t Be Late” a chore to get through. The instrumental outro serves as a meager reward.
    [4]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The only interesting thing about how bland “Won’t Be Late” is is that it disproves the idea that French Montana was unnecessary on “Unforgettable” and “No Stylist.” Without his stabilizing influence, Swae Lee and Drake reveal themselves to be rudderless and boring, two con artists trying to play Burna Boy without any demonstrable point of view.
    [1]

  • Au/Ra – Dance in the Dark

    It’s thhheee eeeeeeccccccoooonnnnnnooooommmmmyyyyyyyyy (duh.)


    [Video]
    [4.71]

    Kylo Nocom: “…Why should I be scared?” I ask, watching Au/Ra coo and hum while rapping her fingers on a table. She leans in and whispers, “Everybody’s scared.” I step away to eat lunch with Billie Eilish, who recently discovered how to flip her eyelids inside out.
    [5]

    Katherine St Asaph: If I were still in the business of overblown trend-projection I’d suggest, at length, that the comeback of apocalypse pop makes a lot of sense when the world is worse by every measure in 2019 than in 2011, when fiction’s gotten there first, and what the future holds is just getting destroyed by the upcoming recession. It’s right there in the lyrics — “everybody’s scared,” “you really thought that growing up would be easy?” A more plausible explanation is that Billie Eilish very recently had the No. 1 song in the country, so everyone is going to make Billie Eilish songs now. But if the way you make a Billie Eilish song is to do the songwriting trick — which is really just the “Problem” trick — of adding contrast to your dance-pop via a whispered, close-miked chorus, then the rest of the song has to go all the way to a banger, not 60% of the way to one. The early-2010s stuff understood that part quite well; I guess I’m saying this should be a Kesha song.
    [6]

    Will Adams: Much as I welcome a post-Eilish wave of close-mic’d, skittering dark pop, “Dance In the Dark” is far too derivative. It’s all here: dentist drill noises, vocal distortions, even the half-time coda from “Bad Guy.” Not helping is the tell-not-show approach to atmosphere, summed up neatly by the opening lines of “shock shock, horror horror.”
    [5]

    Scott Mildenhall: Have you ever visited a shop that pipes in admirably professional facsimiles of contemporary pop music — original pieces, not covers — in careful avoidance of anything demanding royalties? It’s often impressive stuff, inside the shop.
    [5]

    Tim de Reuse: There’s a hyper-trendy, streamlined version of Ladytron somewhere in the core of this tune, and I might’ve felt all right about that, but I’m having trouble getting to it through these blocky, mid-heavy kicks standing awkwardly in the front of the mix.
    [4]

    Alfred Soto: Maybe if Billie Eilish hadn’t spent the spring and summer whispering about what she looked like, figuratively or otherwise, in the dark wearing a crown I’d see the originality in Au/Ra’s big beat. Also: the dark isn’t very erotic, sorry. Do it with the lights on. 
    [5]

    Iain Mew: The cover art, with its “turn yourself into an anime character!” sponsored link pic and its faux-Japanese script, at least suggests fully committing to an aesthetic, even if it’s a horrendous one. For the song, Au/Ra chickens out of even that. Such is the timidity that it only risks the kind of whispers and electronic grind that recently featured on the most popular song in America at the very end. That’s still the best part of the song. 
    [3]

  • Kim Gordon – Sketch Artist

    Wow some of y’all were determined to tank her…


    [Video]
    [6.57]

    Ian Mathers: Does pass the admittedly quite low bar of “better than most Sonic Youth stuff” handily; the combination of distorted strings and deeply fried bass bins sounds great, and even the pastoral bit goes well with Gordon’s voice. Something about the off-kilter rhythm puts me in mind of Dead Rider’s great “Blank Screen.” I literally cannot imagine the response this will get here.
    [7]

    Oliver Maier: Kim Gordon draws from the legacy of acts like Suicide and Xiu Xiu on “Sketch Artist”, mining that precarious terrain where nihilistic noise meets disarming fragility. The moment when the industrial pounding lets up just as it threatens to become rote, a cluster of guitars permitted to peek through the gap in the clouds, is so essential. Gordon herself falls somewhere between Jamie Stewart and Patti Smith in her vocal, channelling the former’s uncanny drama and the latter’s ability to sound utterly possessed. Perhaps there could be more happening here — I wish the uneasy, seesawing woodwind motif was expanded on further — but Gordon still does a lot with a little, and keeps me firmly engaged through what in less capable hands could have been a complete slog.
    [8]

    Tim de Reuse: Consider the juxtaposition of that hyper-aggressive distortion against those groaning woodwinds and that plucky, melodic interlude; surely, it wants to shock the listener with a series of plot twists, but to what end? There are so many elements for such a short track that none of them have any room to develop or click together. Fantastic at grabbing attention — not so great at doing anything with it.
    [4]

    Alfred Soto: Listening to PJ Harvey’s Is This Desire as a primer for post-jungle drums ‘n’ bass distortion and gravelly enunciation of evocative catchphrases, Kim Gordon turns “Sketch Artist” into a sketch for an artist. She drops clauses as if they were pebbles, treats vowels like arsenic she can let fall from her mouth. Who the fuck knows what it portends.
    [7]

    Katherine St Asaph: I imagine this must be better live, where it might sound like a one-room apocalypse, rather than through not-great headphones in an office, where it sounds like a sketch of that.
    [6]

    Kylo Nocom: Kim Gordon imagines a world in which Alan Vega discovered bass boosting. Feverish drones interspersed with headache noise, a perfect simulation of the most painful parts of illness. Being sick is sometimes fun.
    [7]

    Ryo Miyauchi: I wish this would last longer just for the listening experience to reflect Gordon’s fatigue, as masochistic as that may sound, but the refrain already does more than enough to convey long-term exhaustion. The back and forth is a classic conversation of art: you, the artist, do the thing, then you wait for the response. But my, are those dead stares fucking terrifying while you wait your evaluation. Gordon’s TV-static-punk is the perfect soundtrack for the internal panic; the blown-out feedback also resonant as the literal screech of the digital era. Better to be assaulted by noise, I suppose, when it’s the best thing compared to deafening silence.
    [7]