Tunisian Nu-Metal, Swedish Freak-Folk, Chaos Pop
Has a bass line ever broken your heart?
I had to get out of the house. Took the car out to a brewery an hour away just to pick up a case of nerdy beers, including a Japanese-inspired lager brewed with rice, green tea, lemongrass — I feel obnoxious typing that, but it’s pretty much my ideal bev.
Heading back home on MD-650, And We Washed Our Weapons in the Sea soundtracked the drive from Maryland farmland to D.C. Frodus’ final album — recorded in 1999, partially leaked in 2000, released posthumously in 2001 — has, despite its post-hardcore rage and Shellac-ian punk puzzles, a delicate desperation. From a band once obsessed with a capitalist dystopia — in which we currently live — Weapons is awash in personal grief.
There’s a moment, though, starting around 4:15 into “Out-circuit The Ending,” that overwhelmed a tender state of mind.
Guitarist Shelby Cinca and bassist Nathan Burke alternate melodic and decorative roles throughout Washed, breaking into a brazen front of razor riffs when needed. That dynamic rings true here, but on this track, Burke sets up a series of bass harmonics as Cinca leans on sustained notes. It’s a beautiful turbulence, but as Frodus quiets the moment and Burke sings, “Your arms are strong, but they do not find me,” he steadies his bass as if to bear the brunt of his friend’s mourning — long, strong notes climbing atop a trembling melody.
It’s an intimate conversation I’d never noticed and perhaps wouldn’t have unless not in a similar, but different state of grief — for, well, pick any of our collective tragedies. I nearly pulled over to the side of the road to catch myself, overwhelmed by the moment’s musical empathy — no words, just movement. — Lars Gotrich
Bandcamp 6-Pack
Znous, Znousland 2 زنوسلاند (A World Divided): All hail our new Tunisian nu-metal god! I don’t remember when, but likely some combination of Turnstile, Vein and Code Orange got me over my long-held nu-metal hang-ups. (Korn still sucks.) Znous writes riffs dumber/as awesome as a studded gas mask and anthemic metallo-pop hooks wider than a pair of JNCOs, but possesses a NYC hardcore ‘tude. I miss the African guitar melodies that dotted Znousland 1, but the singer growls and shouts in Arabic over polyrhythmic percussion that’d make Slipknot sweat.
recovery girl, recovery girl (Deluxe Edition Cassette) (Orange Milk): Chaos channeled into a major key (mostly). As someone drawn to musical cacophony and pop music subversion, 100 gecs should 100% be my thing, but something’s always felt off to me, and I think this tape partly reveals why: recovery girl’s overstimulated pop music explodes with light. These ultra-hyped, neon-alien, Auto-Tuned delights achieve the same epic energy and positivity of an Andrew W-K rager. Remixes on the B-side illuminate the noisier and emo shades.
Old Nick, The Vanitous Specter (Grim Stone): Someone really said, “Let’s start a raw black metal band, but toss in some blown-out fantasy RPG keyboards like some deranged fairies with bat wings.”
Nadia Struiwugh, Analog Dream (Longform): It takes about 16 minutes, but there’s a transition from an underwater synth fantasia to an arpeggiated glimmer that quietly took my breath away. A subtle, but crucial moment.
noemienours, Unquestioning unrequited (self-released): Sometimes I forget how much I love Finnish freak-folk or the Jeweled Antler drone-folk weirdos that clogged up my college radio DJ days with some real bare-ass-feet-trompin’-through-the-woods-on-shrooms shit. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect Venn Diagram of those interests than in these apparently drug-free Swedes (or just one Swede?). Scaredy-cat falsetto, hang-dog guitar noodlin’, spare drums, droning pump organ and strings, and an overwhelming sense that they really need a hug.
Sweeping Promises, Hunger for a Way Out (Feel It): If both Turntable Report and Abundant Living hype it, I’m gonna listen. And I am here to tell y’all this is the minimalist post-punk dream that folks are joyfully squealing about. Sure, it scratches a certain itch, recalling a time when best pop songs of the ’80s were actually on college radio. But mostly I’m charmed by the Boston band’s punkish playfulness, like, really daring you to love something so twee and pop.
The Playlist
28 tracks. Two doses of Thou: a monumental collab with Emma Ruth Rundle and a blasted-punk Pearl Jam cover. Bass-chugging emo from Barcelona’s Nueva Vulcano. A firestorm of jangle from The Goodbye Party. Deconstructed electronics & flute from Christopher Cerrone and Tim Munro. Gunn-Truscinski Duo’s latest slow burner. The Native Cat’s Chloe Alison Scott sings over a piano shorty. Spirit Adrift conquers mountains with riffs as Deftones surfs pretty sludge. Wendy Eisenberg tosses a twisted pop song into avant-rock oblivion. Throwbacks to The Knife, The Van Pelt, Manilla Road, Erase Errata and Big Black.
Stream the playlist via Spotify. Did you miss a previous playlist? Get thee to the archives.
RIYL plot twists that make ya wanna yell
What: True Story by Kate Reed Petty (novel)
Why: 2020’s a constant garbage fire, but at least my friends are publishing cool books: Robin Ha’s touching graphic memoir Almost American Girl, Maria Sherman’s delightful history of boy bands, Larger Than Life (which should really have a coloring book component!), and now Kate Reed Petty’s debut True Story. This really is a novel where you don’t want to give away too much of the plot, which follows four high schoolers into adulthood after a traumatic sexual assault. A thriller/mystery that blurs reality and fantasy with horror, told in college admission essays, diaristic first- and third-person and tween-penned movie scripts. By the end, it forced me to interrogate my own assumptions about its characters, where my sympathies lie and why. For someone who has a hard time getting through fiction unless in comic-book form, I just devoured this thing.