EP Review: Keeley Forsyth - Photograph

It’s simple to assign adjectives to Keeley Forsyth’s sound. It’s stark, gothic, minimal, and ghostlike. But, anyone who gave this year’s debut album Debris more than one listen knows that those words are inadequate. It is all of those things, sure, but there’s a deeper weight to the combination of voice, guitar, and synthesizer. Forsyth’s vocal is the most memorable of all the elements, usually morphing into not only different deliveries and intonations, but entirely new personas and egos. The music holds her up gently and simply, which made Debris one of the finest, albeit understated, debuts of 2020.

Sadly, the new Photograph EP doesn’t have the same elegant dance between music and voice. At four tracks, however, this isn’t a huge problem. Like Debris, it’s bookended with its best songs. The opening title track is a slow-motion reveal of style that newcomers may need. “Our words are the weight of bricks / I couldn’t find you in my arms,” croons a languid Forsyth. Closing out “Photograph” is a four-note twinkle of a melody that only lasts a couple of phrases. It’s in this way you realize how Forsyth effectively withholds melodies; all the pieces are there for her songs to spread out and expand, but this tantric method works incredibly well to the opposite effect.

Second track “Unravelling” doesn’t quite share this quality though, as it sees Forsyth withholding melody to an extreme. Fortunately, the poetry remains impeccable: “My mind is my belly button / thick unravelling to a better place / find a better place.” Whether this is Forsyth herself or another persona, it works. Next is “Glass”, where Forsyth opts for spoken-word delivery. Nick Cave comparisons abound, particularly his “Fireflies” interlude on last year’s Ghosteen, but Forsyth’s voice is so damn good, you’d rather she just sung it. Perhaps if there was a full-length list of tracks to back it up, it’d feel better placed.

Before any disappointment sets in, “Stab” clears the air with the most inventive sonics of the whole EP. Small snare drums literally ‘stab’ into the song’s otherwise astral aesthetic. “Don’t fall into the trap / it’s going to stop / regain control,” warns Forsyth’s lowest register. Close your eyes and the effect is as frightening as it is cinematic (a certain stabbing scene from Ex-Machina would pair perfectly).

The world over knows how difficult it is to follow-up a truly brilliant debut, but Forsyth manages to convey her style well with this short collection. The immediacy (“Start Again”) and mourning (“Look to Yourself”) from the album may be absent, but if you placed Photograph‘s four tracks somewhere into the tracklist, Debris’ relative brevity could blossom out into something greater. However, it’s quite possible that Forsyth wants to keep things as brief as she can; it’s an effective musical method to save us from a 2020 that’s been saturated in too much information, maximalist overreporting, and anxiety. Look to Photograph if you need a release from all this.

Jessy Lanza Interview

This interview piece was published by Beats Per Minute (beatsperminute.com) back in July, right when Lanza’s fabulous third LP, All The Time, had been released.

Jessy Lanza’s take on pop music has always been easy to approach, but difficult to understand. She marries it with experimental so well, you can barely see the difference between the two. Good art often does this. Take a look at the pointillism of a Seurat painting or the simplicity of Super Mario Brothers, and you think “I could do that.” Sit down to try it out, and you realize it’s much harder than it seems.

This instills Lanza’s records with an incredibly high level of relistenability. How did she get those synth tones? How did she get those vocal effects to work so well? (I’m looking at you, “Lick In Heaven”.) Who programmed the drums? Getting to ask her about these things is a rare treat, but I ended up finding out that what Lanza does is mostly borne out of honest, hard work.

Diving a little more into her history, it’s clear that it was always like this. There was a tension in the air while she was sitting on Pull My Hair Back in 2014, unsure that her music career would move forward at all. Even after being picked up by Hyperdub and seeing massive critical acclaim in the following years, making a new LP, her third, is still far from easy. The title All The Time hints at this: These songs are her most vulnerable, fleshed-out, and bustling yet. But, despite her incredible talents, she’s easy to get along with on a very simple, human level. Just like the rest of us, she’s a music fan that loves talking about it.

So, what are you tired of talking about in interviews?

Nothing! I never get tired of talking about the music. It’s been a while since Oh No and I’m like, rejuvenated. Also I’m not playing shows, so it’s nice to be able to connect with people and talk about the record.

You’re probably missing being on the road then?

It was a bit of a let down to not be going… I was supposed to do a tour with Yaeji. I think the hardest thing is that I really want to make plans, but the best thing is to like, do nothing right now. But, I’ve been working on new music, which is nice to have time for. Between Oh No and All The Time I think I burnt out a little bit on touring, but I’m not gonna have that problem this time around.

In the “Face” music video, you seem to be in a lot of everyday situations: by the grill, in the living room, on the basketball court, in the car… Do you try to turn those mundane settings into more of a club or a party?

We did do that video just around the time things were getting bad with the virus, so those are some of the only places we could be. We were certainly running out of spots, which gives it that domestic atmosphere. I’m not sure if it was so much intention as it is just what we were working with. We were trying to make something that’s visually interesting with what we have.

Music video for “FACE”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrwrjMntR8o

The impression I got was that it’s late at night and you’re listening to music way too loud, and you wish you could suddenly be transported to a club where you had a few people with you and some flashing lights.  Even your videos for Oh No were kinda like that, too.

Yeah I’ve noticed that all three albums definitely have these themes of feeling isolated and disconnected. They’re really about loneliness. I also noticed in so many videos, I’m just by myself trying to have a party. I think it’s become more amplified given that isolation is mandated now.

On this new album, I’m thinking about these feelings and I think using the pop format and pop tropes is a really easy way for me to get into the song. It’s almost like impressions of pop music, and using that as a vehicle to be able to get into more difficult subjects than romance. I was using the record as a way to deal with how shitty I was feeling; and trying to not be such a bummer… To listen to fun music and make music that was the opposite of what I was feeling; but reflecting on it at the same time.

Well, “Lick In Heaven” is a ton of fun. It has a depth of quality I didn’t pick up on until I turned it up very loud in the car. I’d really love to hear you talk about how you approach electronic tones.

That’s such a huge compliment. I love layering sounds and experimenting with my synthesizer collection. More than anything, it’s working with Jeremy Greenspan. On this album, he built this studio in Hamilton [Ontario] from the ground up – getting his control room just the way he wanted it. He’s a total audiophile and went above and beyond mixing this record. I think that’s where all of the sonic intricacies from the record come from. It’s nice to hear you were listening to it really loudly in the car. I like to imagine people listening in the car because I listen to a lot of music in the car.

What’s the process like between you and Jeremy when writing?

There’ll be one element I think is really good, like just one minute of a drum pattern or chord progression. Jeremy’s a real bridge master, and he’s good at adding that third part and fleshing out ideas I bring to him. There’ve been songs he’s started though, too. He’s not too precious about ideas working or not working, and is really committed to having fun with his equipment. With all the back and forth I was doing between Hamilton and New York City while recording, there’s a lot of layers. Think of a song like “Face”, we both just went to town adding layers and editing and adding. It got a little bit nuts, but I’m happy with how it turned out.

It’s probably your fussiest song.

It’s busy! There’s a bunch of different voices in there. There’s a City Girls sample and I think the “want ya” lyric is me pitched up and layered with a Drake sample, also pitched up. It’s hard to remember! There’s a lot of samples that just got thrown in there. My library is kind of a mess.

Music video for “Lick In Heaven”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3D7EEpdlY4

You bridge the gap between pop and experimental so well. Can you elaborate on those genres that you connect at all?

The reason I make music is really because I’m just a huge music fan. I don’t want to say that I’m like a musician’s musician, but I’m just really enthusiastic about music. People who are drawn to my music seem to be not just into “pop music,” but pop music over the course of time and why things sound the way they do and who influenced it. I think people are picking up on that enthusiasm.

You’re like an admirer or someone who’s trying to honor the pop music tradition.

That and just learning a lot. Going to school for jazz music was all built on learning this tradition. It was all about the approach of the people who did it before you. I spent so much time learning and transcribing piano solos in school – just copying people as closely as possible. I think that kind of listening and learning has filtered into the way I approach learning pop music too – studying arrangements, bass lines, and drum patterns and incorporating them. The most valuable lesson I took from jazz studies was the ability to listen; to really hear what people are doing and apply that to my love of pop music.

What do you have to say about the differences between All The Time and your other albums? “Baby Love” and “Face” seem particularly different.

The vocals are affected and manipulated just as much, but I put the lyrics in the album liner notes, which was something I would’ve never done before. I was working through a lot of feelings and big life changes while writing; I think this record is a lot more honest and emotive.

In terms of my own growth as a producer, I stopped being so hard on myself and took a long time recording everything. I would go through these periods on the other albums where I would spend all day in the studio, and be really self-destructive at the end, and just delete everything! I stopped doing that on this record and just let things sit for a few days, then took time to edit things together and just have more fun.

Do you have any songs that are about writing songs?

Not really. I think I use the idea of those pop tropes of romance and rejection to talk about my feelings of being rejected. Not necessarily romantically, but just in life – just being afraid of not knowing the way forward; not knowing if moving to a new city was the right thing to do, not knowing if a new relationship was the best way forward, not knowing why I’m like, angry all the time.

Well people are getting a lot of time today to ask themselves “What am I so upset about?”

Yeah, it never ends! That’s why I called the record All The Time; it’s like coming face to face with reality is never over. That sounds a bit corny and cliché, and those questions might not have an answer for a while, but it’s eventually going to change. I think accepting that there is never gonna be a permanent answer is a bit of a headfuck, for sure. This is definitely a headfuck of a time.

Music video for “Anyone Around”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flh6HYEObp4

What are you up to during quarantine? Are you playing Animal Crossing?

No, I’m kind of afraid that if I open up my Zelda: Breath of the Wild game I won’t be able to stop. I’m not trying to be high and mighty, because I think about it a lot! I just want to stay focused on these videos and the album release. I’m nervous about these next videos coming out, and it’s hard to stay focused.

Post-album, I think getting back into that game will be a treat for myself. It’s pretty high-grade escapism.

Anything else you want the world to know about All The Time?

Other than “please buy it,” just listen to it at least once on headphones. That’s my only request. Not to be bossy, but I think you’ll get a lot out of it. But, yeah, buy it.

Album Review: Mourn - Self Worth

Let’s get this fact out of the way right now: the four members of Mourn were just teenagers when they released their first album in 2014, and their youth has far too often been the only thing people talk about when they talk about them. Instead, let’s focus instead on just how reliable the Barcelona punks are; their consistent release schedule always churns out at least a few gems. The follow to their self-titled debut, 2016’s Ha, Ha, He., showcased a darker sound, and 2018’s Sorpresa Familia was a sprightly jump in fidelity. The newest, Self Worth, is again both of those things. Adding a heavy dose of righteous anger to the narratives, these cuts are the lean and mean adrenaline shots we’ve come to expect, or rather, need, from this band.

The ingredients are much the same, spearheaded by Jazz Rodríguez Bueno and Carla Pérez Vas’ singing – often howling with every inch of their vocal chords. But special mention goes to new member Víctor Pelusa, whose drums are punchy and almost never quit. A standout is “It’s A Frog’s World”, where the band make you think it’ll be their only percussion-less entry on the album, but more than halfway in, the pretty harmonies are accosted once again by a roaring performance from the drummer.

This is one of several reminders that Mourn are a band focused on energy, but it’s important to note that it comes with a very polished sound. Classic New York punks might look the other way, but fans of the fidelity of bands like Metz have a lot to love here. Even the songs with more soothing guitar riffs put out a heck of a lot of decibels. “The Tree” is a new tonal direction for the band, with reverb that almost makes this a hangout song and lyrics that emphasize metaphor over specificity. Closer “The Family’s Broke” is a sibling track with an almost shoegaze warmth on top, and it’s a fine lyrical departure as well, describing the dismantling of the Sorpresa Familia (“surprise family”) that was built up on their previous LP.

Still, the first dose we got from Self Worth remains its finest track; lead single “Call You Back” – first released back in April – is effortlessly good. Clearly borrowing once again from bands like Throwing Muses and Sleater-Kinney, each vocal part is practically screamed, whether it’s a solo melody or a sublime harmonization. “I’d rather die before letting you know how I feel” is the resounding lyric, evoking catharsis and desperation in almost equal measure. It’s just a catchy tune, right up to the end where the drummer strikes some off-kilter snare hits and the vocals are reduced to wordless chants at this point, as if they’re telling the listener “we’ve said all we need to say.”

Indignation is queen of Self Worth’s narrative. Rodríguez Bueno and Pérez Vas often sing about the release from toxic relationships. “They think they do things for me / But they’re doing them to me,” they scream on “Men”, but, this is more than a breakup album. Indeed, Mourn introduced the themes of the album by saying:“You try so hard to do life your own way, but you’re super stressed out and you’re scared, and every now and then you think “Is it worth it?” In the end, I think it’s worth it.” Yes, stress does permeate the attitude of the record, but it’s always expressed in a healthy, satisfying way.

Like many records in this scrappy rock genre, there’s not too much to say before you start unnecessarily over analysing it. In short: it’s the best sounding Mourn record by a longshot, while maintaining the youthful energy we expect and need from the Barcelona band. Self Worth may not be the most well-rounded punk album of 2020, but it still manages to be hyper-focused in sound, expression, and energy. If there are angry demons that need to be exorcised from a clouded mind, Mourn can help.

Album Review: Deradoorian - Find The Sun

Many of us are spending extensive amounts of time in self-exploration, and Find The Sun is an album borne of just that. For her second long-player, Angel Deradoorian has much to tell us about this process. Turns out there’s at least as much to unlearn as there is to learn: “There was nothing out there / nothing in here / and nothing is here to stay,” she sings on “It Was Me”, explaining about her journey inward, teaching us that we will always be reckoning with ourselves even if some force of nature destroys society; or some force of will rebuilds it. After all, the album was long finished by the time Covid became a global anxiety.

As a concept, this is a beautiful impetus for a piece of art, and Deradoorian tackles introspection with grace. Bookended by its best songs “Red Den” and “Sun”, Find The Sun is a time capsule into the half-dozen or so genres that have inspired her most. As stated in the press release, psychedelic heroes Can and Pharaoh Sanders were huge influences; “Saturnine Night”, “It Was Me”, and “The Illuminator” tackle these styles to an almost simulatory degree. Even the production has an early-70s fidelity to it, made ever-more apparent with headphones. Deradoorian recommends giving it a listen while lying on the floor, and such an experience would certainly drive home Find The Sun’s meditative qualities.

The reasons behind the record and how the lyrics enforce it are often more interesting than the album experience itself. This isn’t to say that it’s a musical failure – the contrary is often true since Find The Sun never fails to be compositionally bold. Opening track “Red Den” has an exquisite, in-the-room-with-the-band feel to it, and when she sings the album’s first lines, it’s a whisper. We journey to her native Armenia, temples in China, and, most importantly, India. Yes, the track and the album at large clearly reflect an Eastern journey through solitude, and “Red Den” sets it all up perfectly.

Although it shares a recording quality with the other songs, Deradoorian often chooses instrumentals that sprawl to extremes far flung from “Red Den”’s gauzy claustrophobia. “Saturnine Night” propels itself into ecstasy over seven minutes; ever the backbone, Samer Ghadry’s drumming persists and persists, never stopping for a break, hook, or even a coda. Deradoorian is left to sing for her life: “Give me infinite skies! I die! I die!” she intones breathily – the crescendo and drama are well-earned.

Find The Sun goes on to find Deradoorian’s voice more than anything. The hyper-focused, high fidelity of her work with Dirty Projectors is so far in the rear view it almost feels trite to mention. What’s found here is much more subdued. Almost underselling her talent, the vocals on “Monk’s Robes” are lost in a swirl of rapid piano arpeggios before a chime signals an effective gong bath of a coda. The resulting feeling is a peaceful one.

The chameleonic, guitar-leaning multi-instrumentalist Dave Harrington rounds out the band, and things get tricky when you try to find out which member of the trio played what and when. Ghadry has the drums covered, mostly, but Deradoorian and Harrington share talents to the point where many parts could have been played by either. Sure, this concrete information can be found somewhere, but it’s more fun to imagine the sounds coming from some unnamed musical force. The litany of treble instruments on “Monk’s Robes” follow this mystery, the video featuring a ghost-like Deradoorian strumming a stringed instrument. Look closely and you’ll see that her fingers don’t move with the chord progression; the strum is merely for show. Even in a visual medium, the album continues mysteriously without a real conclusion.

This isn’t a bad thing. It’s also kind of the point. “Find the Sun is a record to sit and listen to, and ask yourself about your Self,” Deradoorian says. However, a hook or two across these songs would be welcome – but considering adding some is a frustrating conundrum given Find The Sun’s themes. Yeah, there’s not much dynamic pull to these songs, but we’d probably have to rethink the album from the ground up if there were. Asking for more excitability may be a misguided request.

Either way, most artists who borrow so generously from other genres don’t nail it this well. Deradoorian’s impersonations of classic psychedelia and krautrock are solid, except perhaps “The Illuminator”. A blatant free-jazz homage, this track is nine minutes of spoken word delivery, flute improvisation, and repetitive drumming. Although one of the weaker performances, the poetry remains well in-line with the album’s mission statement. “Devil’s Market” has the same trappings; the flute, although well performed and produced, is the only moving part of the track while the narrative, once again, remains the most compelling component. Deradoorian views her temptations one by one, and by sticking to her mantra of “say no, say no, say no,” she continues to clue us in on what successful self-evaluation looks like. If the performances used some of the dramatic build from elsewhere on the record, it’d be much less dull.

There’s little else to complain about. The narrative is crystal clear, with poetry often perfectly matching the tone and feeling of the production. Find The Sun could easily be the soundtrack to one’s own meditative experience, but this is a personal record, and hearing about Deradoorian’s individual experience is its finest quality. Closer “Sun” is a wonderfully-paced example of this, only climaxing in its final moments before several drums and voices shout the album’s title. We’ve come a long way since the foreboding “Red Den”.

Writing fun songs is not easy, but fitting them into a mythos is even harder. Deradoorian and company handle the latter perfectly. It’s less playful and more focused than her last full-length, 2015’s The Expanding Flower Planet, and the concept record suits her well. Any indie artist should start taking notes on how to construct such a complete statement. The rest of us now have a guidebook for an effective personal journey right when we need it most.

Album Review: Protomartyr - Ultimate Success Today

Protomartyr frontman Joe Casey must read quite a lot. On the band’s 2014 track “Maidenhead” he retold a dark tale from a 1941 novel by British author and playwright Patrick Hamilton called Hangover Square. The book’s narrative follows a crippling alcoholic with an identity disorder whose problems escalate when his dissociative states – or “dead moods” – become violent. As a nice cherry on top, Hamilton works in themes of fascism, class, and pre-war England. It wasn’t just the characters suffering, it was an entire society. Sound familiar?

It’s not dissimilar from Casey’s take on the tale. Protomartyr’s “Maidenhead” represents a release from the dregs of the underclass, but the hope provided turns out to be false. Class and greed also underscore Casey’s prose throughout the band’s discography, bubbling just between the surface of angry guitars and odd rhythms. There are few modern bands that depict social instability amidst art as well as Protomartyr.

After signing to Domino, releasing their impactful 2017 album Relatives In Descent and re-issuing their debut All Passion No Technique, the band had some looking back to do. A new LP is always a daunting venture, and the ill feelings Casey had during the writing process almost turned against him. “This panic was freeing in a way. It allowed me to see our fifth album as a possible valediction of some confusingly loud five-act play,” said Casey about the writing of Ultimate Success Today. Although panic and socioeconomic struggle are still ever-present in Protomartyr’s music, this album proves to be their most concise yet.

Lead single “Processed By The Boys” is a fantastic return. Soaked in propulsion and dread, the song imagines a handful of apocalyptic scenarios. “When the ending comes, is it gonna run at us like a wild-eyed animal?” Casey questions at the outset. There’s so much macabre quality to the lyric, it kind of sticks out in the band’s catalogue, which is saying something. It’s worth watching the video accompaniment with its bizarre humor and tackiness: a small crowd enjoys a karaoke version of the song while trying to ignore a petty fight going on in the same room. Casey’s hilariously-cast doppelgänger is professional and unfazed despite the violence going on in his crowd.

While the fight itself is a rather simple take on a Brazilian meme video that the band became infatuated with while writing, there’s poetry under the surface. The show goes on, but people can’t help but be distracted by the fight happening just a few feet away. This is the same way that, throughout the record, Protomartyr discuss the state of the world without beating the listener over the head with the themes – indeed, the pounding ache we all feel is easily tackled by the instrumentals alone.

So yeah, Protomartyr are a politically-charged punk band, but damn did guitarist Greg Ahee ever nail it with this record. Opener “Day Without End” has an incredible build to it; where previous album openers gave the listener a nice release in the chorus, this track has no intention of being so accommodating. We’re held over the edge of a cliff as Ahee’s tones become more and more lamenting and loud, while free jazz saxophones round things out perfectly, like a swirling collection of neurons trying to operate under extreme duress and anxiety. Keeping with its title, “Day Without End” doesn’t end so much as suddenly stop.

Another Ahee highlight is “June 21”, where his guitar takes a reprieve from its usual distorted cries to work in more of an angular early-80s punk aesthetic. Half Waif mainbrain Nandi Rose kicks off the vocals and does a fabulous impression of Casey’s cadence, before he retakes the helm. The riffs are disorienting and awkward, perfectly matching his mumbling gait as he tells a bleaker summertime story than a breakup album. “Don’t go to the BP after dark,” he bemoans about a lonely corner of Detroit where even his enemies aren’t keeping him company.

“Michigan Hammers” opens up the second half of Ultimate Success Today with gusto, and it’s perhaps the finest showcase of the band’s rhythm section to date. Scott Davidson’s basslines are bleating and cruel, never warning the listener before climbing up the neck to Carlos D levels of treble, while Alex Leonard on drums smartly lets Ahee and the horn section hold the foreground of the song. “What’s been torn down can be rebuilt / What has been rebuilt can be destroyed,” Casey cries from the end of the bar (after observing that only some of the other drinkers are on pills). The choppy editing of explosions, police brutality, corporate success, and a hammer crashing through glass in the video are another no-frills addition to the narrative.

“Tranquilizer” and “Modern Business Hymns” are exhaustingly aggressive at this juncture, but there’s more poignant prose to hold things together: “Eating dirt and growth from built-up respirators / While the rich sup on zebra mussels broiled in plankton.” We’ve heard Casey take much-needed digs at the super-wealthy dozens of times before, but this is 2020 and the band will express anger where it’s due.

Protomartyr bed down the tensions incredibly well with closing track “Worm In Heaven” – but gosh is it ever a drag to get through. Like revisiting his feelings around All Passion No Technique, Casey seems well aware that any moment could be the band’s last, and takes the opportunity to say goodbye. Although the song is mired in a retrospective of a frightened existence, he has bittersweet things to say to those he’ll leave behind: “Be as needed as the nail / As neat as the pin… I wish you well, I do.” This farewell works best on a thematic level, and solidifies his idea of Ultimate Success Today being akin to the denouement of a five-act play.

Ultimate Success Today is the closest the band have come to a perfect front-to-back experience. Even if your ears may feel they need a break from the towering walls of instrumentation, the lyrics and style will keep you coming back; spend some time with the lyric sheet and you’ll continue to ponder and explore the literature that inspired Casey. Almost any song here would fit well with Brothers Karamazov  (Dostoevsky’s Dmitri fits many of Casey’s depictions to a tee) or 1984 as a companion. Also, given that they’re natives to Detroit, there is a sense that the band feel a duty to talk about how recent years have affected their community. It’s a cautionary tale we can all learn from.

On Ultimate Success Today, Protomartyr have made essential jams for a genre that’s been passed around dozens of times over. It’s nice to know that, five albums deep, the band haven’t lost any ferocity, and that they continue to be a mouthpiece for so many feelings we all share.