#katie cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: American Football - American Football

“You can’t miss what you forget.” What a concept. 

The foursome from Urbana, Illinois who make up American Football vibrantly outshine their emo contemporaries by curating relatively spirited melodies instead of simply, and softly, contemplating their desolation. That’s not to say they’re not the best band to confide in when facing moments of despair. It takes the first forty-five seconds of album opener “Never Meant” to realize this. Even those who haven’t listened to much of the ‘90s emo, punk scene, it’s easy to detect a certain refinement and accessibility from American Football. The guitars effortlessly drift and find a way to gleam through all of the dreariness about which Mike Kinsella is singing.

There is a consistent contradiction occurring between the melody and the lyrical content in the lone self-titled release. Despite the majority of the tracks being played in a major key, the mournful dwelling that occurs makes the listener believe that what they’re hearing is not in celebration of a joyous occasion. This becomes most evident in “But The Regrets are Killing Me”: “Standing alone again / Distant and dissatisfied / These four years / And how we say goodbye to these four years / A long goodbye with mixed emotions / Just fragments of another life / I’m not dead yet / But the regrets are killing me.” These overly-dramatic phrases are backed by a minimalistic and repetitive riff that could easily be made into an uplifting number, but chooses to be more solemn.

The music video for “Never Meant” gives us an opportunity to see what brings about KInsella’s inspiration as a lyricist. Like most emo and slowcore bands of this time, nostalgia lies at the heart of it. The story follows the very predictable romantic relationship of a young couple. While the familiarity of the lyrics lends itself to many 20-somethings, it is the instrumental riffs that are the most emotive in the track, forcing even those who don’t admit to liking “guitar music” want to learn the instrument.

Shortly after the album opener, there is “Honestly” - the track you’ll be thinking about the night after listening through American Football. It’s the six-minute scorcher that’s almost entirely instrumental after two opening verses that reminisce about “teenage feelings and their meanings.” Supporting the lyrics is a twinkling guitar that is comparable to the two tracks that come before it. However, just before the two-minute marker, a power chord comes bursting through the guitar, shatters the melody, and takes on a life of it’s own through a monotonous journey that is interrupted by surprising shifts of the rise and fall.

“I’ll See You When We’re Both Not So Emotional” and eight-minute “Stay Home” is the essential pairing. It begins with an almost passive aggressive rant about human issues and transitioning to a state of contentment. American Football influenced more with the release of one album than other bands do with their entire discographies. They’re realists who see things for what they are, but still manage to help others ameliorate.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Still Corners - Creatures of an Hour

What an unusual start to the month of November. With a high of seventy degrees, clear skies, and a vibrant shade of green still peeking through the newly-formed shades of orange and brown on the leaves, it feels more like the turn of spring than the beginning of winter. After listening to the Creatures of an Hour, we can only hope to summon a snowstorm. 

The London-based four-piece melds together the haunting combination of being the most atmospheric of their dream-pop contemporaries and their fascination with Italian horror. “I Wrote In Blood” is Still Corners’ warm welcome to the b-side of the album. The band creates their own story line of a psychological thriller, one that tests the boundaries of front-woman Tessa Murray’s psyche: “Made a little call on the telephone / Tried to see if you're alone / I wrote in blood / Took a little pill to see your face / Fell asleep in your embrace / I wrote in blood.” All the while, a conjunct melody of the synths gives off the sense of paranoia - a reoccurring theme in the full-length record.

While the themes remain consistent, most of the tracks on the debut do not give off the same sense of urgency. In fact, the opening half of the album simply drifts along. The first time I listened to Still Corners, I was sitting on a couch reading a book. I was frequently distracted by the snow peacefully falling down outside. As I listened to the album and watched the snow, everything else grew silent and still. Melodies that sounded identical to a music box were plucked in unison to the rhythm of the snowstorm. “The White Season” is the final asset to creating such vivid imagery.

It could be argued that “Endless Summer,” the track that many consider to be the height of Still Corners’ career, is not only contradicted by its lyrics, but also by the musicality of the piece. Murray’s ghostly vocals are continuously mimicked by the dissonant chords of the organ and synths combined. As she sings about being “close to the end of time,” she seems frail, but content. This feeling of fragility is repeated a few tracks later in “Demon.” An acoustic guitar is a rarity for dream-pop and shoegaze-influenced bands. It forces the group to strip away the thick fog of reverb and allow silky vocals to stand freely. “Demon” is a raw showing within their discography, but still has the ability to send a shiver through your body.

Snowfall and a dose of French new wave; winter is brought to us via Still Corners.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Fleeting Joys - Despondent Transponder

The term “nu gaze” that has been pegged to the late-90s and early 2000s has a negative connotation towards the music produced at the time, suggesting a lack of originality. While most of the skepticism that comes with this particular classification of music isn’t misplaced, there are a handful of bands that heavily draw from the best elements of the shoegazing movement without completely mimicking or destroying the style. 

Fleeting Joys’ 2006 debut, Despondent Transponder, is a staple within the modern ‘gazer discography. Beginning with a punch, “The Breakup” leading into “Lovely Crawl,” the two sound like tracks off of a My Bloody Valentine album. It’s drenched in a thick reverb that tends to mute the melody at times, while the soft, ethereal male-female vocals gently rest on top of it, creating real Kevin-Belinda moments. The group receives a lot of critique for ripping off Loveless, and while there are evident similarities, as the album continues on, Fleeting Joys morph and expand to create an unpredictable tracklist that creates more substance than other modern bands trying their hand at the same style. 

“Go and Come Back” is arguably one of the best shoegaze-inspired tracks written in the past fifteen years. A drifting guitar gradually builds as it is quickly joined by an assertive drumbeat to kick the song off. The drums quietly add texture during each verse, leaving the vocals to stand beautifully lamenting alone. As each chorus approaches, the drums team up with the explosive guitars to create a drastic contradiction between the two parts of the song, both equally as compelling as they create the rise and fall.

Nearing the end of the album, Fleeting Joys begin taking notes from Ride, another early-90s band that incorporated much less reverb than its contemporaries, creating an alternative sound. “Where Do I End” and “Patron Saint” mirror this concept as the vocals begin overpowering the distorted guitars. Sending a message out to those who easily classified them as MBV-knockoffs, they have more creativity to offer.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Julie Doiron - I Can Wonder What You Did With Your Day

The effects of time on an artist’s composition can show their growth of maturity and the inevitable obstacles that come with growing older. A lot has changed in Julie Doiron since the early ‘90s when she was creating luminous fuzz with her bandmates of Eric’s Trip. In her 2009 release I Can Wonder What You Did With Your Day, she writes poetic scenes to which she has fallen witness, making us all nostalgic for something that we can’t quite place. 

Doiron quickly becomes a friend to the lonely hearts by the second track of the record, “Spill Yer Lungs.” While her songs have become more of a folk-fusion than alternative rock, she refuses to let go of the roots that brought Eric’s Trip to the notorious Seattle-based label Sub Pop, at a time when Nirvana and The Vaselines were hitting their peak. The gritty, lo-fi guitar and bass lines open the track, but softly drop off as she sings the first line “Well I would walk with my hand on your back / And you would walk with your hand in my back pocket,” but they never leave completely; sporadically chiming back in as she finishes a phrase. Doiron may be sixteen years older than she was when Love Tara was released, but her reckless desires and reach for carelessness is at the heart of what she writes as she repeatedly sings “We’re going to chase each other around this town / For nothing.”

Unlike most singer-songwriters, Doiron doesn’t rely on an acoustic guitar; instead, she continues to experiment with electric. In “Lovers of the World,” she creates an intricate and twinkling guitar line that compliments her words. In just under two minutes, she has the ability to create vivid imagery. On a peaceful night, with only the sounds of fireflies lighting the sky, Doiron realizes that she was suddenly forgotten. Instead of letting this thought create a dark spiral, it quickly leads to drinking an entire bottle of wine, conversing about working overtime, and “letting our hearts do the talking.”

The minimalistic “Blue” hits hard, tapping on any emotional scars. With ghostly vocals she sings: “I decided long ago / Never to laugh again / I decided long ago / Never to cry again,” immediately silencing the room. In earlier themes, Doiron subtly mentions a longing to get back to the country, to spend more time in solitude. With this song, it’s clear that she achieves that. When she hits the chorus repeating, “I’m blue,” her vocals layer each other, sounding like a siren on the cliffs of the seashore. The optimal soundtrack for lying on a grassy hillside in the summer watching the clouds slowly drift by, covering up different parts of the blue sky. Good for contemplating.

Tracks like the hard-hitting “Heavy Snow” make us wonder if anything can be more beautiful, and then she sings “Je Le Savais,” proving that things can, in fact, become more beautiful. The only issue with Doiron’s music is that it ends all too soon. After listening to three songs, it feels like you could listen to her forever. Constantly yearning for more beauty, which she has given the world. 

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Total Control - Typical System

Pulling from their fascination with the eighties, the five Melbourne natives introduce themselves with an angular synthesizer that lies at the core of the album opener “Glass.” It embraces a minimal sound, comparable to their contemporaries Lust For Youth, and melds it with the peppiness of Devo. While they give off the impression of being a synth-based group, this thought is quickly dismissed when “Expensive Dog” comes ripping through. The vocals no longer glide smoothly over synthetic beats; instead, they are gritty and abrasive as they spit out nihilistic lyrics. This appears to be a recurring theme in Typical System, regardless of how optimistic the instrumental melodies sound.

In “Flesh War,” Total Control morph the two styles of new wave synth-pop and post/garage-punk into one. The glistening synthesizers soar over top of the robotic percussion and trickling guitar riffs, creating the most accessible song the group has released. It sounds like something New Order would write if they ever tried to record a garage rock track.

The last three tracks are a pivotal exhibition of Total Control’s musicianship. All parts of this closing trifecta take off in a different direction, proving once again that the group cannot be defined by a specific music scene or limited by the straining barriers that the ideas of genre create. “Black Spring” is the seven-minute poetic escape from heavy electronics. Stewart sings his words rhythmically over instrumentals that sound as if they were inspired by the growing Copenhagen post-punk scene. Not only are the lyrics themselves poetic, as Stweart sings, “So the rot set in / Green turned grey and dead / And I know you’re to live / Thrive, and lick / The rot is not the end / The bough was weak / Tired, and broke / Defeat / Now is the spring / Cold bones / Mass graves / Ice age, Nice age, Polar dissuade / The bough was weak / Tired, and broke / Defeat / Now is the spring,” but his delivery makes it sound like words spoken at a poetry reading, or maybe even a riot with his quick, biting words.

“Hunter” and “Safety Net” take on a softer approach than what comes before it. “Hunter” is haunting and almost monotonic, with a low, pounding synth setting the pace that stays consistent for the entire three and a half minutes. Meanwhile, “Safety Net” returns to a similar accessibility as “Flesh War,” with a bright melody in the guitar and synths combined. When the band hits the chorus, it almost explodes with a shimmering light, singing, “you don’t need a safety net.” Much like the rest of the record in its entirety, Total Control forces us to take a look at society, the system, and the authorities, questioning their roles and importance.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Lilys - In The Presence of Nothing

The Lilys perform as a chameleon, constantly transforming. With each album they have released, they express different developments in their career, which move with the trends of the time. Their most notable release is the one in which the Lilys completely immerse themselves into the shoegaze movement: their debut, In the Presence of Nothing. Much like every other band within the movement, this album was the Lilys’ response to Loveless. However, it only takes a few riffs and vocal harmonies to realize that the majority of the tracks sound like they’re off of a Swirlies album.

“There’s No Such Thing As Black Orchids” welcomes us to the album with a robotic, steady pulse of the guitar, moving in a very synchronized fashion. When the vocals enter about a minute into the song, everything bursts apart. The guitars suddenly become atmospheric with no sense of rhythm; they’re instead only used to fill the room with noise. “Black Orchids” is well written, but something about it doesn’t resonate; perhaps the lack of originality. The seven-minute follow-up, “Elizabeth Colour Wheel,” defeats this notion. The opening sound effect is comparable to that of a lawn mower, with a gentle guitar line flowing above it. The song is quite desolate. As Kurt Heasley sings the second stanza, “With your head full of sorrow / You go your way / All your life I can follow / And I’ll lose you all the time,” it is hard to make out his muffled lyrics, but the sullen guitar melody speaks enough for itself.

“Tone Bender” is the aggressive climax. Even though the guitars sound like three black bears growling at the same time, Heasley’s vocals stay calm, almost lackadaisical, and sweep over the fuzz, making for a nice contradiction. After many brief attempts throughout the track, the instrumentals get to take the song away for the thirty seconds, moving swiftly, beautifully, and chromatically through a stream of notes, while never failing to keep the pounding of the opening guitars alive. “Collider” and “Periscope” fall on either side of “Tone Bender.” They successfully build up to the momentum and gracefully allow it to fall back down.

A low point of the album is the long-winded instrumental “The Way Snowflakes Fall.” While there are really nice moments that simply display what the title conveys, it is a bit too meandering. After a short twelve minutes, “Threw a Day” enters, showcasing the more “alternative” side of shoegaze, something Ride is very familiar with, and shows early signs of what is to come in later Lilys’ albums. The group never really mastered a specific style. However, regardless of which direction they attempt to go, they somehow make a traditional sound seem unbelievably exciting.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: John Maus - We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves

John Maus has a fixation with vintage synthesizers and hates the ‘90s.

As he tries to defy commodification, Maus has found himself at the heart of the American avant-garde. Despite his work with acts who have already found success through their innovations, Panda Bear and Ariel Pink included, Maus’ solo project has allowed him to take his flourishing ideas and display them as his distinct vision. Oftentimes, we find ourselves pondering over the possibilities in which an artist finds their inspiration. When it comes to John Maus, he makes it evident: music serves as an outlet for him to express his theories that have stemmed from his studies in philosophy. 

Capitalism has an undeniable effect on the music industry. Producers now care less about creating an individual sound, one that transcends what comes before it, and instead focus on music that will sell to the masses and generate a larger profit. A lack of originality and shallow consumerism develops from this system. This is exactly the type of behavior that John Maus fights. He sits along the border of pop music, without ever crossing over into a common conception that is so often displayed in top forty.

He searches for novel harmonies by stringing together sequences of chords that have yet to be presented in any other situation of its time, relying heavily on radical dissonances and focusing less on consonance. In his 2011 release, We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, he demonstrates this, creating the perfect pairing between his compositions and expressive live performances.

The release doesn’t move a step out of place, packing a punch right from the start with the first three tracks. The opener, “Streetlight,” consists of an almost constant, chromatic movement in the synthesizers, with Maus’ deep voice sporadically chiming in. “Quantum Leap” takes more of an assertive stance, with a surprisingly noticeable bass line that almost steers the track in its powerful motion. Listening to the track booming through the speakers, it becomes obvious why Maus so willingly and effortlessly loses himself on stage. “…And the Rain” reassures us of this three minutes later.

“Hey Moon” serves as a relief from its precursors, as Maus sings alongside Molly Nilsson in her 2008 composition. In interviews, John Maus consistently brings up finding that one moment when you feel completely at peace, letting everything that surrounds you disintegrate, leaving you alone to enjoy the music. For many people who have listened to this album, “Hey Moon” is a beautiful lullaby that serves this purpose, providing a sense of clarity.

Every track that follows only allows John Maus to expand even more. “Cop Killer” explicitly expresses his stance on the authorities as he sings “Cop killer / Let’s kill the cops tonight / Let’s kill every cop in sight.” It’s undoubtedly one of the best tracks in the bunch and is an essential in Maus’ live performance as he violently screams with his arms stretched out in front of him; the feeling he releases is overwhelming and entirely genuine. “Believer” closes the album, with the bass returning as prime instrumentation, the synthesizers twinkling lightly above it.

John Maus may become one of the most influential musicians of the current generation, even though it isn’t necessarily his intention. If he circulates his insight, he could potentially make a change within the culture industry, shifting the focus back on the art itself.

-Katie Cheyne

[930club]

NOSTALGIA, MY MUSE: Hebronix - Unreal

Daniel Blumberg has an abstract perspective made evident by his artwork and music alike. It inflicts a sense of bewilderment, a curiosity of how an idea can be sparked. It takes originality. And while Max Bloom’s songwriting talents are immense, it was the collaboration and this particular originality from Blumberg that made Yuck gain so much momentum from their self-titled debut. Yuck is not Yuck without Daniel Blumberg.

Hebronix is the side project that took Blumberg’s attention. It is a bit of a change in pace; one that you need to be in a particular state to grasp. The intense, high-pitched scream that is crucial in every Yuck song (“Get Away,” “The Wall,” “Holing Out,” etc.) doesn’t erupt in any Hebronix track. The second Unreal song, “Viral,” is probably the closest Blumberg comes, and is the only track that runs under seven minutes. 

“Unliving” is the ten-minute precursor to “Viral.” It kicks off quietly with Daniel Blumberg’s vocals whispering the opening lines, shadowed with a guitar that is so faint that it sounds as if he is singing a capella. When you hear a melody this somber and realize the track is ten minutes in length, it can be a bit discouraging. However, it is easily the most expansive and the optimum of the album. The length of the track allows Blumberg the time to experiment with his originality, and he uses it wisely. Between the opening vocal lines and the 5:20 mark when the vocals reappear for five verses, the instrumentals take over. It’s unpredictable as he moves from jangly guitar riffs layered with an unrecognizable droning amidst atmospheric reverb that swirls around every note to a softer and more refined sound.

“When all is unwilling / And all down the drain / And you’ve been unwilling / For another day” is the first of the five verses that begin at the halfway point of the song; the four that follow are all variations of the original. When you’re 24, the world is perplexing and new and utterly bleak, yet extremely exhilarating. This is how old Blumberg was when he released Unreal. The lyrics in “Unliving” place emphasis on the complexity of life, and how it oftentimes leaves us at a standstill. In the second verse, he creates the perfect imagery of standing in a puddle, watching as the rain steadily falls, making the puddle accumulate even more water. As you stand there with only the sound of the raindrops hitting the surface, it is easy to feel so far away from everything, in complete isolation.

The four tracks that follow are among the same vein. “Wild Whim” adds a little bit of a twang while the appropriately named “Garden” allows an opportunity for the flutes to take over, creating a scene quite idyllic. The title track separates the two and reminds us of the reoccurring theme of the album: curiosity of the unknown and the never-ending search of where we’re supposed to be at a certain point in our lives. As Daniel Blumberg repeatedly sings, “I’m not where I want to be -- I feel unreal,” he forces us to reflect and question ourselves. Unreal is the soundtrack to a quiet, rainy day.

-Katie Cheyne