It’s not just you. We’ve all got blackened hearts. We’ve all got saddened parts. And they don’t know this play, they don’t feel the bass. No happy endings, no soothing chords, more like a fist on the piano. And I’m happy that we’re always offbeat. “...the best minds of my generation, destroyed by madness ... burning for a connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night.” They sleep while they count the days. They fear the moment when they part their ways. Heads in cement, knees to the ground. They loathe the beast they’ve crowned. “they broke their backs lifting moloch to heaven.” We are the sea and all its sickness, just as blue and equally still. Like the other sore lips that are swaying with us, we’re all still ill. Brothers, sisters, reap what you sow. God is dead, we’re alone. The city’s howl never felt so loud, but we’re never quite mute.
This one also took me a while to get into. It strikes me as less HC than Untitled and less poppy than Ultrapop (stupid I know). Let's call this the No Wave record. Its musical (and amusical) density is matching the persistent sound in my head right now. barnaby nygren
The Minneapolis band add a horn section, a running surrealist allegory about walls, and an occasional nod to the elegiac to their electroshocked post-punk. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 4, 2024
Just a beautiful jazzy rap album with buttery smooth flows versed with huge talent. It's not only lovely to the ears, but the lyrics are profound and empowering about the struggles that she faces. zhangtastic