Recorded Thus Reported
Jenny Hval - Apocalypse Girl (Sacred Bones) “Think big girl, like a king” begins Jenny Hval’s latest album Apocalypse Girl, a mix of the surreal and the sullen, a view of a world through the eyes of a woman within herself in the apocalypse or possibly as the apocalypse. “The Battle Is Over” can be taken as many things, the battle to be the everywoman, the fight against the internal and external ideas of womanhood “Am I loving myself now, Am I mothering myself, Am I taking care of myself now?” only to surmise “I can see you doing the same holding on to your soft dick.” These songs strike within the space of sparse soundtracks, each song presenting and unfolding, illuminating Hval’s visions of the creation and absolve of the self, the exploration and examination of creating one, or the aversion to the creation. “Sabbath” is the first view of sexuality and gender from the eyes of a child, is it about a girl being with a boy, or wanting to be a boy, it is difficult to tell, but this record is meant to arouse conversation and thought. In the song she muses “It would be easy to say that it’s about submission, but I don’t think it’s about submission; it’s about holding and being held.” Go here and hear this.
Meg Baird - Don’t Weigh Down The Light (Drag City) Meg Baird manages to consistently represent beauty in its many manifestations, the beauty of the unknown, the understood, the forlorn, belief and delusion. Her voice is a revelation, the most important instrument on the album, the sun rises and falls around it. The album opener is the kind of psychedelic folk rock that evokes mountains and moonlit stars, “Stars Unwinding” is an abstruse work, you can see the thin sheet of fog brimming from a cave, you are in the place, lost, following the distant torch. As many of Baird’s albums have been in more of the singer/songwriter vein, beautifully picked guitar and voice, this album harkens most to her work with her former band The Espers—not a revisit, but bigger instrumentally while still within the vein of what we have come to love from Meg Baird.
Jamie XX - In Colour (Young Turks/XL) The difference between producer albums and singer albums seems to be the establishment of aural versus vocal theme. If one listens to a rapper or singer, the words and melodies are the narrative, the beats are the setting, but in setting a tone without the reliance of lyrical narrative, the palate seems to expand since the listener is not relying on words, but more sound for story. Jamie XX understands this well, album opener “Gosh” begins as almost a grimy reggae joint only to because something brighter and more pop in its conclusion. It is the kind of album where the songs are not immediately established but rather become as they play. “Obvs” starts with tropical steel drum that soon dissolves into an almost trap pop ballad. “I Know There’s Gonna Be (Good Times)” is the most clear I’ve ever heard Young Thug and also the most tuneful, it is masterful in its use of old soul, reggae and pop, and when Thug claims to “ride in that pussy like a stroller” it doesn’t break the breezy vibe. The colors are apparent all over this one.
Cayucas - Dancing at the Blue Lagoon (Secretly Canadian) California, in some ways, is a sound: it evokes images of beaches, breezes and the American ideas of freedom and escape, so that is what dictates (my) thoughts of the latest Cayucas album. Not that that is bad thing, Dancing at the Blue Lagoon is an easygoing tuneful indie rock album that cabannas its way along. Zach Yudin’s vocals are pleasant enough to push these songs through, though I must admit it may be a little too lambent for my tastes. The summer is full of beaches and drives and margaritas and these songs compliment all those things.
Smokey - How Far Will You Go (The S&M Recordings 1973-81) (Chapter Music) The unearthed, the lost recording always hopes to illuminate some period of music that fell through the cracks, highlighting the forgotten or barely known. Smokey has a story that incorporates an album that features members of King Crimson, The Stooges, Quiet Riot as players on an album that was deemed to be “too gay” for the time, and unabashedly so, there is a song called “Strong Love” that proclaims you need a “strong man” to make you feel right. All of this is well and good because the music is pretty good, disco-ish, weird Talking Heads-y r and b rock. “Topaz” is damn near Smokey Robinson; “Million Dollar Babies” porn funk is maybe a high point on the album. In these days, the “shock” of it may be lost, so it can be appreciated as a musical document more than some sort of mouth covering moment, and in that respect, I am with it.
The Weather Station - Loyalty (Paradise of Bachelors) The Weather Station exist in that place of non-assuming great music. There are no more ambitions for these songs than for them to be great songs, illuminating the human experience. On “Floodplain” the song even says “I don’t expect your life to be like mine, I trust you in your own mind, as I own mine.” The songs come from the place of Chrsitine McVie or Steve Gunn, it is not the bombast that fosters the connection, it is the subtle wisdom. “Tapes” is a brilliant and delicate, divine and bewitching, a song about the memories the realization and interpretation of a friend or lover, the examination of based on the found or left document possibly without the intent of wanting to be exposed.