Rina Sawayama: Sawayama
She proclaimed herself an “ordinary superstar” on 2017’s Rina EP; this time she conducts herself like one, producing perhaps the most High Millennial album to date. She charts her generation’s infatuations, progressing from nü-metal to R&B to Carly Rae Jepsen to, well, they’re still obsessed with her, but that doesn't prevent Sawayama from constructing a deeper statement than one could imagine from Jeppers. This takes a form not unlike a flashing neon Sonic the Hedgehog Saying There Is No Such Thing As Ethical Consumption Under Capitalism sticker, maybe with But That Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Going to Feel Guilty in smaller print. The challenge posed by the album is to love oneself when it’s trivially true that that’s easier said than done, more so for a goddamn intellectual who, aware how constructed her identity is, feels obligated to reconstruct it herself. Which, you will be glad to know, she’s more than capable of doing: she can choose new family while respecting her biologicals. If it takes a sample from extremely dead white male Beethoven to provide common ground for all her lives, that seems as close as one can get to ethical consumption to me.
Grade: A (“Bad Friend”, “Chosen Family”, “STFU!”)
I found Clean a tad schematic musically, but this one opened up with little effort on my part. (The label change might’ve helped: horrible melancholia is no excuse for cheaping out on production.) Her hang-ups stem in large part from the doubled travails of performed life and felt experience, today an issue not just for rock stars but for every sensitive young person with the self-awareness to realize they acquired a persona the moment they got their first social media account. Mixed in with the tightly-structured pop-rock songs about being depressed are free-form, image-rich songpoems about being depressed. While some ideas are freely lifted from the ’90s alt canon (there’s one called “Night Swimming” ffs), her knack for melody continues to develop—you can bet the seven-minute one about her dying mom is as consistently well-tuned as the three-minute one about her dying mom. But doing Sad Pavement is valuable, too.
Grade: A MINUS (“Circle the Drain”, “Yelllow Is the Color of Her Eyes”, “Bloodstream”)
In much the same vein as 2016’s self-titled (a Semipop Life B+), though, catering to my prejudices, the soprano sax is out and trumpet is in. The group plays tight on the heads, and members are given substantial leeway, notably on “Dansa Margit”, when Elin Forkelid goes off on her own while everyone else takes a weed break for a couple of minutes. Pianist Lisa Ullén also gets work done, pointing out interesting directions for the horns to follow up on and providing support should those offers be taken up. Alto Högberg is willing to play the deep-lying midfielder, willing to take a shot if it’s on offer but just as happy to play out her role in intricate set pieces.
Grade: A MINUS (“Dansa Margit”, “Pappa Kom Hem”, “Tjuv”)
Nona Hendryx & Gary Lucas: The World of Captain Beefheart (2017)
Dunno why I didn’t get around to this at the time, especially since I liked Lucas’s Max Fleischer goof. That one was funnier—no brass here—but Hendryx does bring a unique approach to the Cap’n’s classics, forcefully big-digging her way to its not-yet fossilzed bones. She handles Van Vliet’s logorrhea like she’s still singing “Lady Marmalade” en français: if in doubt, make it about sex. For his part, Lucas has no shortage of fretboard tricks to apply to the old material, though I appreciate the grace with which he plays it straight on the neither fast nor bulbous likes of “My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains” and “I’m Glad”.
Grade: A MINUS (“My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains”, “Her Eyes Are a Blue Million Miles”, “Too Much Time”)
Itzy: It’z Me mini-album
The most export-oriented of recent K-pop incorporations, with English titles and speech fragments (e.g. “Don't tell me what to do”, note G-rating) and production assists from Oliver Heldens and SOPHIE. The result is as palatable an unironic attempt to discipline EDM with pop structures as we’ve recently seen, with build-ups and pauses sometimes paid off by megachoruses and sometimes by bleepery. No mere cyborgs except maybe for retro purposes on the rocker, they’re just another bunch of sixteen-to-twenty year olds staking their claims to individuality while still trying to work out what that individuality consists of; they just happen to be doing so in an increasingly virtual era when wanting to be me-me-me requires microtransactions to make your avatar look just right. And then Sophie shows up and they go semi-avant, contrasting bright-and-tight harmonies with wubbing low-end. Now that’s weird.
Grade: B PLUS (“You Make Me”, “Wannabe”, “24HRS”)
Contra some longtime fans, to me this gets deeper the more directly she addresses her and her loved ones’ addictions. (The exception is “Witches”: she’s still unmatched at writing about sisterhood, whether biological or the hippie kind.) As someone who mostly likes her for Out in the Storm, the tempos and acoustic emphasis can be a drag, and as for the heterosexuality songs, well, one wouldn’t blame her partner for being jealous of her sisters. But pay attention to the likes of “War”, where she comes close to uniting her individual struggle with her sororal sense, and pray she and Marlee and Lindsey and Allison all win.
Grade: B PLUS (“Arkadelphia”, “War”, “Witches”)
Lahey/Beths fans should sample Lili Trifilio’s project, which has the power pop basics of quiet-medium-loud, strategically-placed ooh-oohs, and ever so slightly distorted melodic solos down pat. Despite mentioning Technicolor twice, her words aren’t yet as vivid as the Antipodeans at their best—her narrators could use a little more, uh, agency. At least on all the ones with her and Matt Henkel’s hard-clanging guitars, however, the music counterpunches against hints of doormattery. Whatever life throws at them, whether early-twenties romantic travails or having their George Floyd song get cancelled, the choruses’ lifts in pitch and volume at least theorize the possibility of eventual triumph.
Grade: B PLUS (“Dream Boy”, “Colorblind”, “Promises”)
Loud, fast, and catchy/annoying, which this is half the time, is still good enough for me, while loud, somewhat fast, and catchy/annoying, which this is a quarter of the time, isn’t quite enough. Tributes to Steven Gerrard, one of the few great players of his time not to have anything worse than fighting a DJ and two seasons of MLS on his record*, are welcome at any tempo. You could add the two sub-four minute songs from last year’s Wild Cobs, but that would be getting too long for a Champions League half-time. In any case, you don’t want to distract from the cool effects they picked up at a Doctor Who Supervillain garage sale.
Grade: B PLUS (“Tell Me Why”, “Rock ’n’ Roll Star”, “Stevie G King of Anfield”)
*I guess some of the Spaniards also meet the criteria of paying their taxes, not being habitually violent, and not loudly advocating for fascism.
I like your writing a lot, have you thought of making a RYM profile and posting your reviews there? I think you would be able to get a great audience there and your voice would be valuable; if you do get one feel free to add me as a friend my username is kevinsweg and I’ve made a system that translates Xgau-esque grades to the numerical system of the site if that’s holding you back and it show a lot of stats and insights about users which I think you’d like.