At this point, hating Skrillex is so common that it’s no longer really possible to gain any cultural cred by expressing one’s disapproval for the musician. If anything, engaging in vocal hatred just establishes you as yet another member of … Read More
In a directory on my computer titled “smiles” is a collection of short recordings, musical ideas I wish to return to without going through the trouble of proper notation. The longest and least interesting of them I listen to every few months to ground myself. I’ve renamed it again and again, attempting to remove it from the series of events that surrounded its recording. Now, it is simply the inconspicuous “note 2.aup.”
Bombay bicycle club is one of scores of bands with a slightly ridiculous name that falls loosely into the category of “alternative,” and can be counted on to release albums frequently with subdued critical approval. This group, like its Pitchfork-friendly peers, has a healthy fan-base, instrumental competency, and a distinctive lead vocalist, but falls through the cracks all too easily.
A couple weeks ago, legendary shoegaze band My Bloody Valentine released their first album in twenty-two years. The press surrounding the release of m b v was as extensive as any I’ve seen for a musical release in quite a long time. Why? What’s the big deal about this band coming back after so long?
Joanna Newsom must be the most enigmatically fascinating figure in indie music today. Though she’s shrouded in a barely-tangible sense of cultured innocence—her closeness with her astrophysicist and musician siblings, her compositions and lyricism refined by academia yet bejeweled with … Read More
If you’re the kind of person who treats pop music like the Plague, I’ve got news for you: You’re missing out. This March saw the release of one of the most ambitious and exhilarating albums of the year, and it’s quite defiantly pop-tastic. Certainly in its ingredients, The-Dream’s “Love Vs. Money” is no different from most other high-budget pop records. It’s filled with stuttered percussion, growling synths, and syncopated auto-tune vocals, as well as those Atlanta chants that have become a regular fixture of chart-toppers recently — you know, that slurred and drunken “ayyyy” that seems to make up the chorus of every rap single these days.
In a genre ostensibly centered on themes of inclusion, liberation, and progressivism, the disregard for the remarkable role of women in both the development and advancement of the Electronic avant-garde is unfortunate, and even antithetical to the cultural aspects of electronic music that I find most appealing.
