The Bullpen 008

Diverse aesthetics, indefatigable optimism: too much to ask?

Astrophysics: Hope Left Me (2022)

Brazilian EDMer who’s made twentysomething albums of synthwave or coldwave or something of that ilk. This is reckoned a peak, and I was excited enough by it to try and fail to get through a later, Gothier record, so I’ll believe that. This is as if New Order added breakbeats, kept bass and guitar about the same, and heavily treated the vocals to make sure the lyrics aren’t easily comprehensible, which is as beneficial here as it would be if Bernard combined his poetic skills with Ian Curtis’s indefatigable optimism. Yet there are moments of uncanny beauty that arise when different sources of melody interact amidst the desolation, like “Shadow Being”, where the propulsion of trance synths and a nagging guitar belie the song, the album title, and the producer himself. Deserves an audience outside of clinically depressed anime fans. (“Shadow Being”, “A Cold Room”, “You’re Killing Me”)

Carly Cosgrove: The Cleanest of Houses Are Empty

Philly Midwest emo (hey, I don’t name the genres) trio’s second album after a Nickelodeon-themed debut. This is more mature, I guess: “gonna sleep off the headache that I got ’cuz I slept too long” is a not-unrelatable problem for those learning to adult. They have real tunes and singer Lucas Naylor isn’t too annoying by Midwest emo standards. Still, their strength is in the way they construct somewhat awkward catchphrases that nevertheless cut to the heart of their angst—“I wish I could love the way you test me”, say. That over the course of the record they learn to stare down their ennui is slightly inspirational; next up, the passage of time. (“Fluff My Pillow”, “Here’s a Fork”, “You Old Dog”)

Christopher Dammann Sextet

Dammann’s a bassist based in Chicago; not sure how old he is, but given the central suite here is called “No Hope at All Other Than I Don’t Want to Die Today” I’ll assume he’s a millennial (seems too optimistic to be a Zoomer.) That one has plenty of high points, with trenchant trumpet from James Davis and Jon Irbagon soloing more traditionally. The closer is even better, with drummer Scott Clark working overtime to achieve liftoff and the band going for high-concept broke for ten minutes. (“When I Was Young and My Heart Had Windows”, “No Hope at All Other Than I Don't Want to Die Today, Pt. 1”)

DJ Travella: Twende EP

Via Nyege Nyege of course, this is not quite nine of the year’s best minutes of Tanzanian singeli at its fastest and silliest. The lead keyboard on “Trust” sounds like a leftover from the ringtone era, waiting for a frog to declare itself crazy over it. “Believe” is similar but deeper, with the syncopation of the 170 bpm programming a little more insistent. “Mchakamchaka” shows a melodic connection to soukous and maybe a structural connection to ’90s schlock-trance, and is thus the best one; the synth sweeps accent the half beats until the drums are ready to take over. “Vumbi Vumbi” has Afro-percussion samples that go dong dong di-di-dong and di-di-dit di-di-dit and is thus also the best one. Did I mention it’s under nine minutes? (“Mchakamchaka”, “Vumbi Vumbi”)

Ex-Vöid: In Love Again

I prefer this to either Tubs album, and it’s not simply because Lan McArdle is a much better singer than Owen Williams: it’s because in the absence of a commanding vocalist, you’re almost always better off doing harmonies (just ask Richard and Linda), albeit with one participant mixed higher than the other. “You are a nightmare, a nightmare”, they croon, but not at each other; the particularities of their bad break-ups dissolve in commiseration. The jangle peaks on “July”, on which they have second thoughts about ending their relationships (that’s why jangle’s dangerous.) The best thing on the record is Lucinda Williams’s famously minimalist “Lonely Girls”, though they omit the punchline lest you mistake them for a song band. Wisely, the guitars-bass-drums arrangements are more reminiscent of “Passionate Kisses”. All that’s missing is a single on which six subtle hooks are replaced by two big ones. Is that too much to ask? (“Lonely Girls”, “July”, “Strange Insinuation”)

Helene Cronin: Maybe New Mexico

My favorite recent recent Christgau blurb, digested: “A well-put-together middle-aged woman… So if you’re still unimpressed maybe that’s because you’re an asshole.” Sonically, it is very well put together thanks to an excellent production job by Mitch Dane, who balances her modest and fine voice with the guitars and the Americana-isms. Still, it’s a singer-and-words album, though I think more notable for its mises en scène than for particular couplets. “Rifleman” is one of the most sensitive PTSD songs in a crowded field; “Switzerland” doesn’t exist and if it did it’d get tariffed; the one about knowing the date but not the year of your death, well that’s weird, but not bad weird. This is music that processes some very personal feelings and bothers to turn it into art. And if you’re not impressed, well, maybe you have different aesthetic values from her. Among other possible explanations. (“Rifleman”, “Maybe New Mexico”, “Switzerland”)

IVE: Ive Empathy EP

High tier girl group, upper-mid tier product. The lead track “Rebel Heart” amplifies the Andrew WK stomp that’s long lurked in the K-pop palette, though a lazy chorus (whose lyrics are credited to “Nietzsche”) means it suffers in direct comparison with 2023’s great “I Am”. The rest is pleasantly familiar: Westerners might well groan that “Attitude” has yet another “Tom’s Diner” interpolation, but that one has one of the more creative arrangements, along with “TKO”. Good fun, though they should try harder to dig up a lyricist capable of formulating a koan as mysterious as “what’s after like?” Maybe they should give Wittgenstein a call. (“Rebel Heart”, “TKO”, “Attitude”)

Patterson Hood: Exploding Trees and Airplane Screams but mostly Patterson live at the Hi-Fi in Indy

I thought about no-showing his concert because there was a tornado warning and because, as with every new set of songs he’s collated with or without the Truckers for fifteen years, his latest album shows he can teach in an MFA program if he ever needs a day job and doesn’t do anything novel musically. And yeah, the here’s-a-Mellotron there’s-a-melodica instrumentation did threaten to distract from the songwriting, which remains the main point. Still, I was glad I showed up: the show kept my attention more often than not, with the dark woodwinds sonically useful and Lydia Loveless doing an admirable job playing Waxahatchee, Wednesday, and themself. And Hood’s possibly unreliable autobiographical banter did clarify a lot about the songs: that and the rain helped them grow into their Southern Gothic nocturnal humidity. (“A Werewolf and a Girl”, “The Van Pelt Parties”, “Miss Coldiron’s Oldsmobile”)

Turquoisedeath: Kaleidoscope

London teenager making “atmospheric drum and bass”, so the kids say. This 2024 album is more focused than the previous year’s Se Bueno; there isn’t too much wandering off into mathy stuff. Instead there are lots of loud breaks, lots of loud synth pads, a few soft synth pads, and shitloads of reverb, all with attention to detail to every sound. If you were raised by a Playstation that might be all you need out of music. If you weren’t, there are hints of melodic development, though still with a sense of eternal return to the title screen. (“Hold Tight”, “Limbo”, “Leviathan Sanctuary”)

Youssou Ndour: Éclairer le monde (Light the World)

With his late, great bandleader Habib Faye’s role now filled by non-Senegalese, however talented, the main thing he has to fall back on is merely his being the greatest male singer in the history of recorded music. And while he’s dealing with senior citizenship more gracefully than previous titleholder Sinatra, that doesn’t let him get away with, say, English lyrics (French fares better.) So after the initial relief and joy that he can still hit those notes subsides, it’s a good thing he can also fall back on the fact that everybody involved here absolutely loves percussion: trap drums, hand drums, a djembe player from Cleveland, the beat goes on. (“Tout pour briller”, “Say Thank You”, “Bul ma laaj”)

***

Looks like the make-or-break week for the US protest movement (or the first of several if all goes well.) My unsolicited advice:

1. Show up; bring a friend and a bottle of water.

2. It’s the rare time when yelling at the media about the tone of their coverage is actually useful and important; yell away.

3. If it looks like an op, stop.