The third album from Norwegian electro-music duo Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas, appropriately titled III, is a beautiful album of lush sonic landscapes and uplifting grooves just in time (here in the northern hemisphere, at least) for dark and cold weather to come…and to give you a break from any self-isolation doldrums you might be having.
There’s a sense of fun right out of the gate by naming the album’s opening track “Grand Finale.” It leaps out of your speakers with bright, 1980s synths like UFO lights through dark clouds. “Martin 5000” was the lead track from III and I like the way it builds, seemingly in the background of everything around you, until it strolls alongside you like a super cool panther along a jungle path.
The bass line in “Small Stream” seems to have a bit of an Afrobeat sound to it, and the jazz piano mixes quite well throughout it. “Oranges” is spacey acid-lounge suitable for chillin’ or making out. “Harmonia” might be the lushest track on the album. It’s like something you’d hear in the coffee house on the mothership from close Encounters of the Third Kind, and the DJ there was Mowgli from The Jungle Book. “Birdstrik” closes the record with a thudding, sexy heartbeat rhythm and even sexier synth-bass to send us off with a relaxed afterglow.
III is one of those cool mood-altering electronic albums that is suitable for so many places, times, and situations that you’ll find yourself floating back to it again and again.
New Zealand’s October and the Eyes is a one-woman show. Perhaps the Eyes mentioned in her “band’s” name are the eyes of the world, or the Creator, or Big Brother. I don’t know the answer, but that’s okay. Sometimes the mystery is more intriguing than the answer itself, and “intriguing” is a good way to describe October’s Dogs and Gods EP. She calls her music “collage rock,” meaning she blends influences ranging from krautrock to house music to dub and garage punk. It all works, and the fact that all this sound is produced by one person is damn impressive.
Opening track “Playing God,” for instance starts off with industrial beats and guitars and soon blows your speakers onto their backs with psychedelic reverb-laden vocals reminiscent of Siouxsie Sioux emerging from a dark cave. “All My Love,” a tale of love and lust, is a gothic shoegaze masterpiece with sexy robot beats and synth-bloops doing a striptease alongside October’s vocals that sound like she’s singing through an FM radio dug up in a post-apocalyptic junkyard that can somehow access broadcasts from the early 1980s.
“Wander Girl” continues the goth-synth vibe with Dum Dum Girls and, I’ll say it, Cyndi Lauper-like vocal stylings. “I’ve only been waiting my whole life for you,” October sings on the peppy “You Deserve It” – a song that seems aimed at herself and her potential lover at the same time. “The Unraveling” is a flat-out shoegaze rocker designed to rattle your home walls or the roof of your car. The closing track, “Dark Dog,” is dreamy synth-wave that has a slightly creepy feel to it as October sings about a man best left alone.
This is one of the coolest-sounding (and sexiest) EPs I’ve heard all year. I hope we hear more soon.
Animal Drift Animal, the first album from Affect Display (AKA Damien Smith), is a lush sonic soundscape that sounds not unlike what you’d hear while dreaming of electric sheep.
Lead single “Until the Light Hits the Door” starts off sounding like something you might hear in the score of a modern psychological thriller but then transforms into slightly goth, slightly ambient trance music. “Flight or Fury” pulses like an alien menace on a haunted moon, blending Ennio Morricone and Vangelis influences.
The subtle sonics of”Transference” are suitable for meditation, your morning tea, making out, or taxiing down the runway on your flight to wherever you’re going to quarantine for two weeks. “Dauen” is full of bright synths, strange samples, and beats that sound like they were recorded in an empty Olympic pool (and I mean that in the best way).
“Flock” builds around a drone that could be some kind of machine Smith recorded in the field for ambient sound. Stuttering drum beats stumble around a swelling guitar line and Smith’s robot overlord vocals. “Red Blue In-Between” starts off with psychedelic guitar (!) and then becomes something like an instrumental Sisters of Mercy song with its fierce drumming and slithering synths. The closing track, “Floating Pictures,” has touches of synthwave, city pop, and ambience for a nice finish.
It’s a lovely record and one that is suitable for so many different situations that it’s impossible to list them all. Let’s hope Smith keeps up these sonic explorations and unearths more treasures for us.
Keep your mind open.
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On the cover of Caroline Rose‘s new album, Superstar, Rose is bathed in red neon light, her makeup and the cellophane around her neck making her look like a mannequin that was mostly unwrapped but then forgotten in a store room or perhaps left there when the place went out of business. She is glamorous, sexy, beautiful, and yet artificial in appearance. I might be reaching a bit here, but it’s as if Rose’s message is that images of beauty are often illusions. True beauty lies in true expression of the self, which she superbly does on Superstar.
She opens with the electro-poppy “Nothing’s Impossible,” which combines hip hop beats with bright synths that carry along her lovely voice like a ballon on a warm breeze and ending with space opera keys that melt into lounge jazz. The groovy, fun “Got to Go My Own Way” has Rose talking about her big dreams and moving on from lost love to finding new opportunities. “I was born to be a star,” she claims. It turns out she was right.
Rose embraces her sexuality (again, self-expression is true beauty) on “Do You Think We’ll Last Forever?” as, over a slick bass groove accentuated by handclaps, she sings about lusty sex (“I want to climb inside you every single day.”) and wondering how long it will last (“Do you think we’ll last forever? No pressure, though, just tell me yes or no.”). She gets Zen on the short and psychedelic “Feelings Are a Thing of the Past.” She’s right. They are. The only moment is now.
“Feel the Way I Want” has Rose strutting across the room like Ric Flair on his way to the ring (“I’m lookin’ good, I don’t think it’s a crime.”) before she gives us a lesson on self-expression and not kowtowing to the pressure of pleasing others, as living a life as others expect you to live it (in terms of expression, at least) is a trap. “Everybody’s so quick to sit you down and say, ‘Try to be cool about it,'” she sings, but she’s going to embrace her feelings and who she is instead. Again, the image of beauty is one often put upon us by others.
Need some make-out music? Rose has you covered with the sultry “Freak Like Me.” “My love is a real bad scene,” she warns, but you want to walk into it despite the warning because you know it will be a good time. Rose moves onto “Someone New,” which is a great showcase of her vocals. It’s easy to overlook how good of a singer Rose while you’re paying attention to the dance floor synths and electronic drums.
“Pipe Dreams” opens with what sounds like a train rolling along the tracks, and the opening guitar certainly goes along with that theme before it drifts into a softer space and Rose’s vocals seem to saunter out of the Black Lodge in Twin Peaks. The opening synths on “Command Z” sound like something out of an early 1990’s video game, which means they sound great, and the rest of the track has a neat dark wave feel to it as Rose sings about wishing she could go back to a better past, much like the thick bass-heavy “Back at the Beginning.” “If it takes a lifetime, I will find my true love again,” Rose sings on the “I Took a Ride” – a pure synthwave cut about heartbreak. You leave the album without any doubt she’ll do it.
Why? Because she’s a superstar. She’s someone who has embraced herself as she is and is leaving illusions behind her on the road. She has cast off the masks that others want her to wear. She has forged her own path. We should all be so lucky.
Keep your mind open.
[You’d be a superstar in my eyes if you subscribe.]
Consisting of electronic / disco / synth / dream-pop musicians Farao and Special-K, Ultraflex create music that seems ingrained into your DNA if you grew up on late night cable access TV, VHS culture, and 1980s workout classes. That exercise esthetic is prominent throughout their debut album, Visions of Ultraflex, and even their live performances (which often have them doing aerobics to their own music).
I mean, the first track is called “Get Fit,” and is perfect for a warm-up yoga session. The band’s name is the most repeated line in the song when they’re not encouraging you to “Get fit, get ripped, get a lover, get kids.” The electro-drums and sexy, breathy vocals of “Work Out Tonight” would make Janet Jackson envious. The electro-poppy “Papaya” might be about naughty bits. The saxophone throughout it is reminiscent of many Cinemax late night film scores.
“Never Forget My Baby” blooms like the theme to a Saturday morning talk show that focuses on fitness, exotic locations, and hot trends in dating. The vocals echo around your bedroom and produce the perfect atmosphere for making out. “Man U Sheets” sounds like the name of a naughty He-Man villain, and that seductive saxophone and sexy synths are more powerful than a Charm Person spell cast by Evil-Lyn.
“Olympic Sweat” is synthwave bliss. It’s like floating on a cool stream after you’ve been in a sauna with your lover. “You’re not really my type, but this is your lucky night,” they sing on the cheeky and delightful “Slave to Your Crush” – which is filled with bright synths, electro-pop beats, and a sense of fun missing in a lot of dance music. The closer, “Secret Lover,” sounds like something Prince wrote down after a wet dream. The electro-phat bass, 1980s fashion show synths, and near-industrial beats are great combination.
I hope these two ladies keep putting out records, because this one is superb. They have a future as bright as their synths ahead of them with a debut album this good.
I couldn’t tell you where I first heard Warm Drag (Paul Quattrone and Vashti Windish), but I can tell you that I was immediately hooked by them when I did hear them. Two people making so much powerful psychedelic stuff couldn’t be ignored, and their self-titled debut is a top-notch record.
Opening track “The Wander” (not a cover of the 1950s classic) gets the album off a thudding beat you feel in your jugular veins and enough distortion to probably cause your houseplants to shrink back from the speakers for fear an earthquake is rumbling through your living room. “Cave Crawl” was the first track I heard from Warm Drag and the song that stopped me in my tracks. Windish’s vocals bounce off the wall behind you and creep up on you like a vampire while Quattrone’s beats sound like a spaghetti western soundtrack record that’s been left in the sun a bit too long.
Windish is looking for love on “Cruisin’ the Night,” which blends girl-group rock with David Lynch film beats. “End Times” pours out of your speakers like some kind of venom that saps your willpower and entices you to lie down and let it carry you away with its filtered reverb effects, industrial drumming, and psychological thriller film synths. “No Body” ripples with krautrock beats and Windish’s vocals are pure shoegaze beauty.
“Sleepover” could fit in a horror film, a romance film, a compelling drama, or a spaghetti western. Windish’s lullaby vocals are a perfect match for Quattrone’s haunted saloon synths. “Lost Time” continues the sensation of being in a dusty ghost town street while the long-dead residents of that town shamble out of the shanties to stare at you with hollow eyes.
Quattrone’s synths and beats on “Hurricane Eyes” buzz like a beehive and Windish is the queen commanding all of us drones with her breathy delivery. “Someplace” is like honey dripping from a spoon into yerba mate spiked with peyote. Quattrone takes his time with the beats on it, not rushing anything so as to let the guitar and Windish’s sorceress-style vocals stretch out like a pair of leopards on a hot rock. The album ends with nearly eight minutes of “Parasite Wreckage Dub.” I love a good dub track, and this one doesn’t disappoint. It mixes dub with krautrock, industrial, and synthwave. That’s not an easy task, but Warm Drag makes it sound like they can do it in their sleep – and it’s a great soundtrack for dreams.
The entire album is, really. These are songs from dreams, hallucinations, illusions, hauntings, and seductions. It’s an album you’ll never tire of hearing because you’ll find something new in it every time, and the feel of the album will change as you listen to it in different locations. I hope it’s not the one and only Warm Drag record.
Keep your mind open.
[Crawl over to the subscription box before you go.]
New Zealand-born, London-based singer, songwriter and producer October and The Eyes shares the new single/video, “Playing God,” from her debut EP, Dogs and Gods, out November 20th on KRO Records. Following lead single “All My Love,” “Playing God” is fierce and dark, October’s fuzzy vocals empowered over ricocheting percussion and wavy guitar.
“‘Playing God’ is about the innate human desire for power and control but also our ability to cry ‘poor little ole me’ when it all gets too much,” says October. “We’ve seen it time and time again throughout the history of man, and perhaps it feels even more relevant now than ever witnessing the powers that be struggle with the moral handling of a global pandemic. It’s also hugely laced with irony, humour and contradictions – I’ll be the first to admit my lust for control, yet I’m also ready to laugh at myself (at my own expense) at how farcical our trivial desires for such things seem in the grand scheme of life.”
The accompanying video references videographer Rich Kern’s Submit To Me Now. “To me the title and video of his film both represent the inherent sexual power that the female body and mind possess – our ability to play god at our own choosing,” says October. “Also it’s just a sick video visually and Lung Leg looks badass and I can only hope to be half as rad as her one day.” Watch “Playing God” Video: https://orcd.co/octoberplayinggod October is no newcomer to music – despite only being 23, she has been involved in musical pursuits since she was a child. She taught herself how to record and produce her own music at age 12, locking herself away in her bedroom for hours on end. Having moved halfway across the world to her new home in East London, October has remained true to her traditional isolated writing style by holing up in her East London flat for several months and writing a small collection of songs that can be described as dizzying, darkly kaleidoscopic, and dauntless above all. October produced the Dogs and Gods EP herself, creating a sonic universe that heralds her heroes of yesteryear. She describes her musical style as ‘collage-rock’ (not the be confused with college rock). Pulling musical inspiration from the likes of Bauhaus, Bowie, Siouxsie Sioux and Suicide, she then squeezes her influences through the gauze of modernity and electronics, creating something entirely her own. Watch “Playing God” Video: https://orcd.co/octoberplayinggod
Gabriela Jimeno, otherwise known as Ela Minus, doesn’t allow herself to make music using computers. Everything has to be made with analog gear to give it a human touch. Her sharp new record, Acts of Rebellion, is no exception. Despite its political and personal shouts, the album is intertwined with themes of love. Club beats and ambient waves mix like a two-colored cocktail served in a high-end club that’s located in an abandoned warehouse with sawdust all over the floor.
Opening track “N19 5NF” builds its synths like a Jon Hopkins track and then drops win Vangelis-like touches to immediately take you from the moment into a bright future you can’t quite make out but know is within reach. Her lyrics on “They Told Us It Was Hard, but They Were Wrong” encourage us to embrace compassion (“When you love, you love it all, and nothing seems impossible.” Her vocal stylings on it remind me of early Ladytron tracks.
The deep house bass of “El Cielo No Es de Nadie” instantly gets you grooving, and Minus’ native Spanish vocals move around you like a sexy spectre. “You don’t want to understand, you’re choosing to lead us apart. But against all odds, you still won’t make us stop,” she sings on the anthem-like “Megapunk.” Minus was formerly a drummer in a Colombian punk band, so standing up to The Man is par for the course for her. She now does it with analog synths instead of a drum kit.
“Dominique” is a bouncy, lovely track that has beats James Murphy would love to have written, but don’t let the peppy synths fool you. The song is about dark depression that can come after a lover leaves for good. On “Tony,” Minus gets out of the house and into the dance club to dance until dawn and break out of her funk. The closer, “Close,” features Helado Negro, and has Minus singing about keeping her lover closer, even when they’re apart. It’s a fun track that has some lullaby-like synths mixing with soft electronic beats that seem to come from a dream.
The album also has three instrumental tracks, which I always appreciate. Minus knows that sometimes lyrics get in the way of grooves, and it’s best to let the grooves stretch without them.
Love is an act of rebellion in this day and age. Acts of Rebellion is a delightful reminder of this.
Martin Thulin is part of the psychedelic / shoegaze band Exploded View, and his new solo album, Into the Light, is full of psychedelic and dreamy ruminations on death, life, impermanence, and presence.
Opening track “Not Afraid to Die” blends Velvet Underground guitars with 1980s synth wave keys to send you floating into whatever version of the afterlife you prefer – or at least out of your current troubled reality. “Here in My Room” adds some disco horns to create a cool lounge-rock track. The bass on “Amazonian Smoke” is post-punk, the synths are goth, and the drums are industrial. It all works. “Thin White Duchess” is, of course, a play on David Bowie‘s “Thin White Duke,” and Bowie touches are sprinkled throughout the track. I like the way Thulin filters his vocals to the low end when you think they’re going to come in at full volume and then slowly brings them back into the front.
The thick keys on “New Dawn Coming” start off side two of the record, and soft electro-beats slide into the room like a sultry lover. The smoky bass of “Day Out Day In” and Thulin’s echoing vocals bring Peter Murphy to mind, and I love the simple, clear piano compliments throughout it. They’re almost like drops of ice water falling onto you during a humid day.
The guitars on “Upstairs Room” sound like they have strings of taffy as Thulin sings about listening to the radio on a quiet, lonely night – even though he’s with his lover (who is mourning their mother’s death) in the same place. Church organ-like keys usher in “Silence You Forever” while Thulin’s vocals take on a raspy spoken word quality. “Your anger makes you so blind, you can’t see you’re being fooled. And when they finally take it over, you’ll have no voice at all,” he sings / chants. Good heavens, those are some prescient lyrics in 2020, aren’t they? The closer, “Amalgam,” sounds like a film noir score and brings to mind images of rain-coated alleys, shady business deals, femme fatales, and suitcases of money that needs laundered as soon as possible.
It’s a haunting record, a cool record, a smooth record, and an uplifting record. That’s a rare combination in any year.
Keep your mind open.
[Step into the subscription box while you’re here.]
In 1971, the Shell Oil Company sponsored Venezuelan poet and musician Chelique Sarabia to compose an album of traditional folk music updated for modern times. This album would be given as Christmas gifts to Shell employees, friends, and customers in 1973. Sarabia enlisted local musicians to play a host of traditional instruments so he could filter those tracks through synthesizers, sequencers, tape loops, and who knows what else. The result, Revolución Electronica en Música Venezolana, was an amazing South American synth-wave album that’s still ahead of its time.
Opening track “El Pajarillo” blends funk bass with traditional guitar arrangements warped by reverb, pan, and filter controls into a trippy, exotic vacation. “Maracaibo en la Noche” blends distant female vocals and birdsongs with the psychedelic guitar. “Polo Margariteño” has what sounds like a lovely clarinet piece throughout it, and the effects are taken off the guitar to let the traditional dance rhythms come to the forefront. “Cantos de Mi Tierra” has a bit of a spooky feel to it at first, which I love, and then it curves into a beautiful dream space.
“El Cumaco de San Juan” shimmers with an underlying brightness that eventually fades as the guitars come forward as snappy as Rice Krispies. “El Diablo Suelto” is as subtle and witty as Old Scratch himself. “Polo Coriano” sounds like it’s going to be a bold piano-led track at first, but then makes a left turn and becomes a toe-tapping track that brings a smile to your face.
The opening chants of “Mare-Mare por Comer Zopoara el Pájaro Guarandol” weave in and out of the track but rarely overtake the beautiful accordion, organ, and traditional guitar flourishes. “Somobra en los Médanos” reminds me a bit of Italian romantic comedy scores from the 1960’s, and Sarabia puts the filter effects to good use again on the guitar solos.
“Barlovento” gets off to a mind-warp start and continues spinning down a rabbit hole into a Venezuelan wonderland of guitar solos, traditional hand percussion, and echoing vocal sounds. “Rio Manzanares” brings in a hot saxophone riff now and then to mix with the traditional guitar strumming, producing a great effect. Not to be outdone, the closing track, “La Bella del Tamuangue,” adds a trumpet that drifts back and forth from leading with skillful zigging and zagging to hanging out in the back with long, soft tones to add more psychedelia.
It’s a sharp record that will make you want to bug out to South American for at least a few weeks, and, again, so far ahead of its time that it sounds like it could’ve been released last week instead of almost fifty years ago.
