For lovers of Talking Heads, Oingo Boingo, Devo, Brian Eno and many other 80s nerdy art-rock projects, Formal Sppeedwear have picked up the torch while creating something that feels like they’re on spin with any, and all, of those influences. The result is a weird, idiosyncratic, and at times abrasive sound that will test those not already fans of some of those aforementioned projects, but for those of us who thrive in this chaos, this is the answer you’ve been waiting for. The bass and riffs slink like a snake in “Hit ‘n’ Run,” as angular aesthetics explode in collisions with soundscapes ripped from noise-rock, creating beautiful collages of sound. The speed ramps up on the bubbling explosion of “Aardvark x2,” with some of the best, and honestly most frantic, percussion of the whole record, which itself reverberates back into the amazing electronic sounds of the track. Despite all the harsh tonal choices, “Wait (Hatchet Gets a New Hide)” is a perfect summation of Talking Heads-esque bridging of art-pop and funk, mixed with an 80s Brian Eno production grime to make a perfect trip through bouncy, muddy pop. There’s a more 2000s indie pop exploration through the quirkier funk tones on “The Ballad of DCB,” but they’re done with such an aggressive bass and guitar combo that it feels like the perfect mélange of 80s and 2000s tones.
Just when we thought there wasn’t more from the Chemical Brothers’ feature spin-off with Aurora, she and Tom Rowlands have returned with another triumphant, cinematic banger. The track takes you through phases like experiencing an entire season in a 4-minute track, with the opening overture hitting you with a wave of bass and brilliant sunny synths. Just as that weight feels too immense, the track opens into a sprawling vista, with lush synth tapestries and Aurora’s vocals echoing out on the horizon like the winds coming alive. Bright lights in the synths join her as the track rolls along, building a sonic momentum that feels like it’s on the brink of an explosion. The song also leaves you in a final-feeling emotional place, like you’re watching the credits roll on a phase of your life. Every line celebrates the joys of life and getting caught up in your emotions to enjoy that feeling of being alive. And just when you think the track can’t get any bigger, it sends you off into a cataclysmic beat combo that makes you want to sprint to the hills and shout.
Though they undoubtedly know their niche and sound, there’s always a hunger and urgency to Protomartyr’s approach that keeps their music so current and powerful. While their sonic onslaught is still at full power, their increasing use of symphonic arrangements in this latest record shows a band ready to use every tool at their disposal to expand and conquer the sonic landscape. “The Old Hotel” sets things off with a frantic drum barrage, set against a wondrous wall of saxophone and glistening guitars, leaving you feeling caught between battlefields and the waste left in their wake. This war-like malaise washes right over to “Sounds We Cannot Hear,” with the horns rising even higher to create a sonic dissonance between a lot of military-adjacent instrumentation and violent-sounding melodies that they would never play. Plus the jagged swirls they get out of these orchestrations are too mesmerizing to ignore. With castanets flaring on “Exalted Eagles,” there’s a more desert-y flavour to the percussion and sound as a whole, with the track feeling like a journey through the bowels of politics and the pain it wreaks on the world. There’s no doubt in the point of view on “Feed the Sewer,” as the face-melting distortion throws you around in your head to match the filth of the politicians they skewer within the track.
There’s a sense of theatrical drama to Perfume Genius’s latest single that makes it easy to forget that harp and steel drums collide with his already heavy, shadowy harpsichord-sounding keys. The song crawls, almost to a dead stop at times, amping up the melodrama, perhaps in a method that feels more suited to a live performance, but works within a solitary listen, at times. When it evolves into its rave phase, that’s when the track makes it all worthwhile, shedding all that uncertainty and misery to lose oneself in a glorious dance.
Sabrina Teitelbaum is clearly on a red-hot writing streak, going from a dense record to one that takes her knack for kicking open the door on a track and adds more nuance to the colours in between. This record is deeply personal, and you can feel it in every intense guitar note and lyric that cuts your heart to ribbons. Teitelbaum quickly sheds the simple acoustic sadness as the album blooms into a cascading fireball on “Violins,” letting all the anger and exhaustion rip into a punch as she sings in neon hues over the manifestation of her feelings. You can feel the whole spectrum of a strong friendship or even romantic love in the ups and downs of “Heart Has to Work So Hard,” giving each chorus an even bigger heft, and the echoing of lyrics about bravery into being brave to even live a deeper wallop to your senses on the second round. There’s a pop-infused rock power to “Stone Fruit,” that sheds some layers of the sound and lets the dynamic drops of her thick guitar tones amplify lines like “Stick to you like a clot.” Following her already dazzling power to push a song to a fiery degree, “Fur Elise” closes the record by enhancing these roars with strings and some of her most dire, intimate lyrics that send the pyric to a sheer cosmic level.
