Album Review: Volcano by Jungle

Jungle has erupted onto the music scene with their trending song “Back on 74” off their 2023 album Volcano.

Album cover: Volcano by Jungle. Via Spotify

British electronic music project, Jungle, first appeared on my radar last summer, when I stumbled upon their song “I’ve Been In Love” in my Spotify recommended songs. I was instantly hooked, as it matched the mood of summer perfectly with its easy-to-move-to-beat paired with the smooth and nonchalant vocals from Channell Tres. It became my summer anthem, and it is a song I will never get sick of. I would spend the days lounging near the river with my sister listening to this song on repeat, shocked that I had never heard of this group before. Their sound was right up my alley, with the transformation of older disco/funk beats into modernized electronic dance music; the perfect blend of relaxed yet exciting, old yet new. It wasn’t until a little while after I started diving into their music, personally, that “Back On 74” went viral. 

The group was first conceptualized in 2013 by producers Josh Lloyd-Watson and Tom McFarland, who are both based in London as well as childhood friends. The goal of the pair was to create more of a musical project in which lots of collaboration was necessary to produce artful music, videos, and performances. They have released four studio albums, Jungle (2014), For Ever (2018), Loving in Stereo (2021), and their most recent album Volcano (2023), which has recently gained internet fame due to the virtually iconic choreography within the music video released for it. The videos are a large part of what has launched the group to the current center stage. The songs off of Volcano each have their own visual pairing with a music video that follows the same formula and style, often featuring the same dancers, choreographer, cinematographer, and is directed by Josh Lloyd-Watson. The “Back on 74” video captured the internet’s attention, as it became a trend to replicate the unique and fluid choreography of Shay Latukolan that is included within it. With this fascination with the video came extra attention to Volcano, as people came to realize that they enjoyed the music paired with the dancing. 

 As an album, Volcano plays it safe, and it is apparent that much of what Jungle are doing is not pushing any sort of boundaries musically. They know what they are good at and stick to it, and the songs that are on the album can be put into sort of categories based on what sort of sound they are trying to emulate. 

“Us Against The World” opens the album up, and is one of my least favorite on the album, which is disappointing. It is one of the songs on the album that is more overtly designed to be more of an electronic dance song. For me, it is repetitive and boring with the same sort of vocals blasting atop a thumping and overly rhythmic backtrack, repeating the same lyrics over and over. “Holding On” and “You Ain’t No Celebrity” follow a similar formula, which produces a similar reaction from me: I am not as impressed with these songs. They sound too poppy, as if they should be in the background of an Old Navy commercial. “You Ain’t Celebrity” is too stripped down for my taste, with the falsetto vocals peaking out against a blipping beat full of beeps and boops that sound more like a confused robot than an actual beat. This is a rare occurrence where the contrast of soul/funk does not mesh well with the electronic beats designed to get people moving. These songs miss the mark by a country mile, focused as they are on formula rather than musical experimentation. 

Another genre that is heavily interwoven within Jungle’s music is disco. Songs on Volcano that present these influences are “Don’t Play,” “Problemz,” and “Palm Trees.” My favorite among the three that I just mentioned would be, “Don’t Play” as it has a nostalgic house feel. The repetition of the lilting vocals along the top of the groovy backtrack creates a visual that the song is almost sparkling with a playful innocence as the lead vocalist croons “Baby/I don’t know what I would do without you.” While it is repetitive in its own right, this type of music tends to be that way. The beauty in that, though, is it is so easy to get lost in the groove that you forget nothing else but the need to move along to the music you are hearing. 

The songs that are the most musical and make the album worth listening to are “Candle Flame,” “Dominoes,” “I’ve Been In Love,” and “Back On 74.” These are songs that I would characterize as having a more modern funk/house feel with influences of soul and R&B. They are the most musically diverse and genre-bending, combining a number of different styles that result in some masterpieces, “Candle Flame” has an ethereal opening of harmonizing soulful voices paired with a soaring string section, until it launches into a 1-2-3-4 count beat drop that drops you in the middle of an absolute jam, giving the audience no choice but to bounce along. It then features the rapping of Erick the Architect, adding some modern swagger and providing the listener with words to sing along to. The stark contrast from the beginning to the rest of the song is what grabbed my attention and kept it. 

“Back On 74” has more of an acoustic feel, which departs from the rest of the album, and includes the rhythmic and repeating strumming of a guitar. The main focus of this song is the vocals of Lydia Kitto, which are utterly whimsical and breathtaking, flitting effortlessly above the groovy baseline. She is supported by strong backup vocals that emphasize her well, providing a vocal masterclass in harmony and cohesiveness. 

Volcano as an album has its strong points and its weak points, but the strong aspects are heavyweight champions. With songs such as “I’ve Been In Love,” “Back On 74,” and “Candle Flame” carrying, it is hard to label this as anything short of great but I am afraid I may have to. It is clear that Jungle has gone a more commercial route, but I still appreciate some of the jewels that they have put out into the industry and I am looking forward to what they release next, as well as seeing them live this summer (hopefully!) at the music festival Osheaga, in Montreal! 



Alligators, Heartbreak and Jesus: Robert Finley’s Latest Cruises Black Bayou

In his 4th studio album in seven years, Finley isn’t slowing down. His latest could be his greatest.

Finley performing at Indra Club 64 Hamburg in 2018

Slow, heavy winds rustle the cypress trees rising from deep, murky waters. There’s a warm, dampy stillness. Even the air waits to be nudged along. Sunlight flitters through the trees, alligators hide beneath the surface of the muddy water, and expectations are subverted with the bubbling, bursting energy in the depths of the swamps and rivers in Louisiana. 

Age Don’t Mean a Thing for the swaggering baritone Robert Finley, in his fourth studio album Black Bayou. Combining a gravelly gravitas with an unyielding ebullience, Black Bayou mixes rage with contemplation, sorrow with zestful vitality. The album is deliberately rough around the edges, flooded with fervor and throbbing funk grooves, quiveringly intense guitar solos, and a rugged, humid vocal texture that Louisiana’s Black Bayou shares. 

Acclaimed producer Dan Auerbach, guitarist and vocalist for the Grammy-winning Black Keys, continued his multi-album collaboration with Finley for this album. First introduced to each other after Finley’s debut, Auerbach’s label has released all of his albums following. Finley toured across the country to sold-out rooms as part of Auerbach’s Easy Eye Sound Revue and it’s easy to see why. 

The former military helicopter technician turned carpenter turned musician turns 70 this year but sings with a hypnotic fervor that’s gonna get me out of bed in the morning. With a story that’s just as charming as he is, Finley is a case-study in defiance. He’s not new to music, purchasing his first guitar for $19.95 instead of shoes at age 11. After his dad died in a car-crash at 17, he joined the military and was stationed abroad. In a twist that feels like folklore, he received a secondary MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) and became the director of his own band and toured across Europe. After he was discharged, he played in prisons and in churches, in bars or wherever else he could in his hometown of Bernice, Louisiana. 

“Been around the world, and I seen some of everything,” Finley raspily croons on “Livin’ Out a Suitcase” over a grungy strutting bassline, the bluesy harmonica intertwining with hypnotic utterings by a weeping guitar. Finley’s power is unadulterated, guttural and unabashedly honest. He rumbles softly,  “My best years are behind me / Because of my age / But I won’t quit living ’til I’m dead in my grave”, ending the line with searing falsetto harmonies, a lifetime of wisdom and experience encapsulated in every line, within each breath that ends each triumphant vibrato.  

He lost his wife and home at 60, yet here he sings at 70, basking and sometimes busking in the warm glory of a strong Louisiana summer day. His music is a celebration, each song wringing life out of each second, dropping it straight to the soul, making its way out in golden whisky tones. His lyrics mirror his spontaneity; both messily improvised and profusely profound. 

“Alligator Bait,”about Finley’s grandfather taking him hunting in swampy waters, using boy Finley as (you guessed it) alligator bait is more story, less song. A single guitar strums quietly, the drums and bass work together to create a propulsive groove, Finley narrates this in an earthy voice as deep as the river. The first line is all you need to hear to be utterly convinced that this is going to be a good one. “I stepped on a log and the log moved // And I didn’t know what to do, so my Grandpa said // Boy, you stepped on an Alligator back//Lotta kids got ate like that.” You haven’t heard of anything like this before, yet it’s no surprise. 

His last album, Sharecropper’s Son, released in 2021, was an autobiographical, balladic work. “Souled Out On You” has Finley belting “After all we’ve been through/ I’m just souled out on you” with the horns, falsetto heartbreak accompanying a tragic minor piano accompaniment. Saxophone lines interject politely, the guitar riffs add a touch of the blues, but Finley’s rawness is the center of attention. Title track “Sharecropper’s Son” first hints at the style which we find rampant in Black Bayou. That is, a look inward to find the fire still burns fiercely, that 70 long years have yet to tamper the flame. An energetic spring away from the introspective, soulful ballads like All My Hopewhose chorus proclaims “All my hope is in Jesus / Thank god my yesterday’s are gone” in sweet and slow enveloping tones becomes the trembling “Gospel Blues” in the latest, where he exclaims frantically “But in order to get to Heaven/You got to go through hell every now and then”. The remorse and fear transformed to a welcome embrace of life (and god’s) ways. 

Finley’s energy is unfiltered and unmistakable, harshly tugging at heartstrings, deftly defying misfortune, age and expectations. Black Bayou delivers jagged melodies, creating deep bogs of the Blues, dark swamps of Soul and fens of Funk with a little bit of humor and a whole lot of swagger.

Putting a Shift in: Sam Smith Joins Long List of Iconic Tiny Desk Performances

NPR’s Tiny Desk Welcomes Sam Smith and their crew. 

Smith performs a Tiny Desk concert Friday, Aug. 4, 2023, at NPR’s headquarters in Washington, D.C.

The Tiny Desk Concert Series is a concept developed by NPR where the employees get to pick an artist to perform live within their office space. They have hosted a wide array of musical artists: from current pop-icon Post Malone to the insanely talented cast of The Lion King on Broadway. These performances are recorded and then put on YouTube, opening these wildly intimate and bare-boned performances for a virtual audience. When this video came up on my YouTube Recommended, I clicked on it almost immediately, as I was an avid fan of Smith when I was younger. I had the joy of watching them live in Montreal when they released their pop/soul album, The Thrill of It All, and was so excited to see what they would do in this type of setting, as there is no place to hide within these Tiny Desk performances. Smith’s music is almost made for this type of setting  

The video launches right into the performance with the unmistakable opening piano chords to Smith’s 2014 hit “Stay With Me.” Smith is front and center with a black choir at his back, all dressed in matching black sweatsuits. The sound they produce is purely angelic, as Smith’s very controlled, but almost nasally voice contrasts well with the smooth and full sound of their backup singers. As the camera angles zoom in to focus more on Smith, you can see their backup singers mouthing along to the solo parts of the song, making it clear that everyone in that room genuinely enjoys the music they are producing. This makes the overall performance that much more emotional and heartfelt. 

“This is quite mad… I’ve been singing on stage for too long, so this is crazy,” they chuckle as they sip from their water bottle. It is apparent that the intimate setting of the Tiny Desk is something that they appreciate but are a little intimidated by, compared to the huge venues that they have been so used to playing. “This next song… We rehearsed it the other day and this is 100% my favorite version of this song we’ve ever done so I hope you like this. Enjoy, move, get into it,” they conclude with a shimmy as the audience chuckles. Smith has a way of putting those around them at ease, and it is so evident by the way that their choir looks at them, with such adoration and admiration, and the way that the live audience responds to them. The group launches into an acapella opening, accompanied by snaps, of Smith’s popular pop single “How Do You Sleep?” Pianist and effects coordinator Ruth O’Mahoney jumps in with superb tone and timing, along with the subtle strums of guitarist Ben Totten. When this song first came out in 2019, I was not a fan. In fact, I am still not a fan of the recorded track, as it is very much a generic, over-auto-tuned pop song, but this live and acoustic version of the song stunned me. The chorus featured the choir in full effect, backing Smith up with interweaving harmonies that fill the room with a rich sound and energy. It had the opposite feel from the recorded track, given that it was a live, acoustic performance. It let the song speak for itself, and it shocked me to realize that I did actually enjoy the song, especially when it was performed in such a way. All I can say is that this version of “How Do You Sleep?” needs to be released as soon as possible on every streaming platform because I want to listen to it on repeat. 

The next song that they performed was “Lay Me Down,” another early career Sam Smith classic. Pianist O’Mahoney and Smith are a well-oiled machine when it comes to the reading of each other in the pacing of this slow opening, as it is just the two of them to start. After the first chorus, LaDonna Harley-Peters joins Smith on the main mic for the next verse, where they put their arm around her. It is a truly touching scene, and it is clear that they have a very special bond. Her voice is such a contrast to Smith’s, with a very full, steadfast, smooth, and versatile range. In the second chorus, they turn to look into each other’s eyes as if they are signing to one another, as Harley-Peters takes the higher harmony to Smith’s melody. Their voices combine to soar over the piano chords, crescendoing beautifully as they get to the bridge of the song. This is where the rest of the choir joins in to create a powerful and almost chilling effect as O’Mahoney hammers away at the keys. This all culminates at the end of the song where it is just Smith and Harley-Peters once again, cooing the heartfelt lyrics: “Can I lay by your side?/ Next to you,/ You.” They hug, and you can feel the love radiating from the screen. This number extracted such an emotional catharsis from me, so much so that a couple of tears were shed. “Lay Me Down” is such a painfully vulnerable song, one that has been one of my favorites of Smith’s ever since I was a young girl, and to not only hear but to see this performance in such a stripped-down setting only emphasized the talent that Smith possesses. It was truly captivating. 

“Ok, let’s get saucy,” Smith says mischievously, as the overall vibe of the show takes a turn. They conclude their concert with a performance of their new controversial hit single, “Unholy.” It begins with acapella clapping from the choir paired with fun vocalizations that loosen up the crowd. The piano enters with heavily low and staccato chords, thumping along to the rhythm. While the performance of this song did not lack in fun energy, this was my least favorite part of the concert. This may be due to the fact that I do not like this song and was hoping that they would play more from The Thrill of It All, but I also feel that it was an interesting song choice to close out the concert as a whole. I think that “Unholy’ would be a great opening song to set the tone and get the audience at ease, and that it would have been more impactful to end with a song that is more emotionally hard-hitting and showcases Smith’s singing and songwriting talent.

This video was one of my favorites released from NPR in their Tiny Desk Concert Series, and it only left me wanting to hear more from Sam Smith and their incredibly talented group. Twenty minutes was too short, but they did amazing with the time that they had and I sing enough praises for them.  

 

A Portrait of the Producer: Vegyn

The illustrious British producer’s latest releases highlight their creative streak, with a diverse array of electronica

The surrealist cover of Vegyn and Francis Hornsby’s new spoken-word album

“When the hell is Frank Ocean releasing a new album?” I don’t know, but Vegyn might. The 31-year-old UK-based glitch-hop and prog-house extraordinaire, best known for producing Frank Ocean’s Endless and Blonde, has been steadily pumping out projects over the past four years. Now having made his own label, 3 albums, 3 EPs, and 2 mixtapes—with one a staggering two-and-a-half-hours long—it’s safe to say that Vegyn’s taken Frank Ocean’s silence as a message to double down on his sound. Admirably, Vegyn isn’t simply copying the same production formula across all these projects. Ranging from ambient house-thumping ragers to his own disconcertingly minimal (yet melodic) take on intelligent dance music, Vegyn’s unabashedly pushes his songwriting in new directions. In the last two months alone, he’s ricocheted between avant-garde poetry to prog-house with surprising dexterity.

The Head Hurts but the Heart Knows the Truth—the aforementioned ‘avant-garde poetry’ album—is perhaps the biggest change in sound Vegyn’s made to date. The trip-hop-driven album unleashes a hurricane of melancholically booming synths yet is calmly centered around the narrator’s psychosis-propelled spoken-word poetry. The stream-of-consciousness lyrics, written by Francis Hornsby and delivered by AI, revolve around sardonic stories about the narrator’s past lives, detailing their thoughts on music, love, spring onions, and everything in between. “I used to take my breakfast off of a mirror / Now I just walk around and stare at people at the park” are the unwelcoming first two lines in the project. The surrealistic implications of ‘staring’ juxtapose the familiarity of simply people watching. It’s clear the narrator is unwell.

The album also marks Vegyn’s departure from minimalistic-glitch-hop-inspired beats, though he makes his ambient influences clear: “Truisms 4 Dummies” and “Bucket Listener” are Boards of Canada worship, with synth and guitar lines that ground the listener with the weight of emotional memory. This style of instrumentation lends itself perfectly to a spoken-word album. Cathartic strings and synths dot (and at times swallow) the instrumentation of “Business Opportunities,” giving the AI’s emotionless voice faux depth. Hornsby expertly weaves between stories of drug abuse and lost love in this track as well, making it easy to get lost in the narrator’s musings. “I felt happy in a secret way / Naked obviously, / Angry that I could hear voices / But really, / I was at peace with everything.” Some lines cut through the mix and demand the listener’s attention, like a stopped clock being right three times a day.

While Vegyn does demonstrate he’s able to produce a compelling album in this style, the narrator’s storytelling can be too cryptic at times, giving the album moments of embarrassing bathos. “Of all the onions in the world / I prefer spring onions,” the narrator interjects in “Truisms 4 Dummies,” right after discussing how life makes them feel “both dead and alive.” Contrary to its purpose, these intrusive comments don’t highlight the narrator’s deteriorating mental condition, they instead clumsily show that Vegyn has yet to find his footing in this sub-genre of trip-hop. Despite its kitschy attributes, there’s a lot to love about Head; it explores a style of electronica rarely indulged in. Forgoing his pattern of musical reinvention, I hope Vegyn returns to the album to smooth out its rough edges.

Less than two months after Head’s release, Vegyn’s new single “Makeshift Tourniquet” made for a particularly surprising listen given its lack of experimentation. It begins with spacey house-inspired synths pulsating in and out over a sample of a man discussing “the creative process.” His words are masked by the flow of synths, only discernible when they ebb back. As the synth’s reverb starts spiraling out of control, the song plunges the listener into the depths of a frigid and sparsely populated underground electronic venue; a crispy drum loop replaces the ethereal echoes which are now just a backdrop to the song’s new head snapping anthem. Where a lesser artist would have let the synths engulf the mix in a saccharine chant, Vegyn’s subversion of the dance formula forces listeners to perk their ears and focus on the production’s minute changes. 

Despite not seeking to redefine genres like Vegyn’s other works, “Makeshift Tourniquet” is an incredibly gripping track which sits right in the middle of prog-house’s oft-explored motifs–apart from its surprisingly minimalist drop. This, to me, is a welcome change. Partially as the result of his reinvention, Vegyn oftentimes struggles with developing depth to some tracks. Head’s small bumps in production and layout are clear growing pains from Vegyn’s introduction to the spoken-word sub-genre. Some sections of his other albums (Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds) are also so minimal, I can’t help but wonder if there’s supposed to be more to the mix. Sometimes reinvention is unnecessary. For Vegyn’s next release, let’s hope he continues his foray onto already-established sound.

Laufey’s Bewitched

Laufey’s newest album captures both her greatest musical strengths and weaknesses.

Icelandic jazz certainly hasn’t reached the same heights as New Orleans jazz. Despite this, the jazz-pop singer Laufey has managed to bewitch the world with her unique musical style. After her participation in The Voice and the release of her first album in 2022, Laufey has managed to carve out a cult-like following among Gen Z. Unfortunately, her newly released second album will be unable to hold the world’s attention.

Bewitched opens with “Dreamer,” a 60s-inspired jazz-pop piece, a song that begins with an acapella chorus of Laufeys, a chorus later reduced to one voice singing over a piano and drum. Although only three and a half minutes long, the song seems to last throughout the duration of the album. Every song following “Dreamer” sounds near-identical to the opening piece as Laufey softly sings about love over one or two accompanying instruments. She changes the lyrics and sometimes swaps out instruments, but the overall sound remains the same. 

Out of the fourteen songs, there are only two exceptions to this minimalist style: “Haunted” and “Bewitched.” “Haunted” contains a beautiful section of strings, which die out after the beginning to be replaced by a guitar and Laufey’s Fitzgerald-like voice. They return here and there throughout the song, adding a beautiful, complex, and, not to be too on the nose, haunted quality to the song. “Bewitched” is similarly structured. The piece opens with an grandiose, Disney-like orchestral excerpt in collaboration with the London Philharmonia Orchestra, one that reappears – much subdued in grandness but not in beauty – between sections of acoustic guitar. This departure from Laufey’s usual style is a resounding success. “Bewitched” and “Haunted” are not the only pieces that go in new directions; she additionally experiments with bossa nova in “From the Start,” a style of jazz Laufey once previously (and successfully) explored in her previous album with “Falling Behind.” While still simple and very in-style for Laufey, the piece has a degree of energy derived from the layering of instruments not found in the rest of the album.

These songs paradoxically highlight both Laufey’s talent and the underwhelming sound of Bewitched’s remaining pieces. It’s difficult to listen to pieces such as “Misty” and “Must Be Love” after listening to her stronger songs. The rest of the album is minimalistic, basic, and, at times, strongly ambient. None of these are intrinsically bad qualities. The choice to write these pieces in such a way is logical, as previous Laufey songs have found success due to these features. But after listening to one song in this style, listening to the rest of the album seems pointless, as each song sounds the same as the previous and following one.

Laufey certainly does minimalism well. However, this album makes listeners reconsider whether minimalism is the style best for her to pursue. “Bewitched” and “Haunted” strikingly contrast the rest of the pieces, almost all of which are simply ballads comprised of Laufey’s voice and an accompanying instrument or two. Although Bewitched has its moments – and strong moments at that – there are few highlights in the album. The majority of its songs are not distinct enough from one another to remember, or to even listen all the way through. Most listeners will leave thinking they just listened to an album created by an AI fed with Laufey’s music. But for die-hard fans of Laufey’s style, this album will be received with great blind enthusiasm and love. Hopefully the next album will be more deserving of that love.

yes! yes! a thousand times yes to Home is Where’s “The Whaler”

More than twenty years after the American tragedy that was 9/11, its echos continue to ripple across American culture. But no band has captured the post-9/11 world in the same way as Brandon MacDonald’s Home is Where. Their Summer 2023 release, “The Whaler”, is their crushing comeback from the already emo classic debut, “I Became Birds”. Her distinct screaming vocals cut through the cluttered but necessary instrumentals to reach directly into your soul.

The album ranges from the energetic highs like “yes! yes! a thousand times yes!” to the somber low reached in “9/12”, having only one line, “In dawn, September 12, 2001, everyone went back to work.” MacDonald’s vocals aren’t the only striking part of the ensemble, Tilley Komorny’s twinkly guitar lifts up the heavy vocals and provides a freshness in the bleakness of the lyrics. She also contributes kaleidoscopic texture through her various other parts, which her credits list as “piano, organ, backing vox, banjo, tambourine, jingle bells, mandolin fingers, tape loops, breaking stuff.”

MacDonald isn’t credited as the lead vocalist, but rather as a “tantrum” which accurately describes the purgative nature of this album. Her lyricism leaves you feeling raw, with her uncomfortable imagery sewn together to form lines like “spitting teeth into each other’s mouths back and forth until we make a smile” and “we don a regalia of useless genitalia.” This amalgam of bleak emo catharsis makes Home is Where’s first full length studio album, a bewitching sequel to “I Became Birds.”

End of the Day: An Experimental Album for Clarity and Relaxation

Courtney Barnett’s latest album leaves behind the catchy melodies and witty lyrics she’s known for and charts new territory with striped back sounds and hypnotic repetition. 

    Album cover for End of the Day

Courtney Barnett is no stranger to the soft strum of a guitar or a slow tempo. While she may be known for her indie-rock classics such as “Avant Gardener” or “Pedestrian At Best,” Barnett has been writing ballads since her first EP was released in 2014. But songs off her newest album, End of the Day, evoke a sense of peacefulness and wonder like no other song off her discography has before. Originally recorded to accompany her 2021 documentary Anonymous Club, this instrumental album found a life of its own when it was released earlier this month with a biophilic visual accompaniment. No vocals to be found, this album is carried solely by the aesthetic reverberations of Barnett’s guitar and the gratifying synth tones and percussion of Stella Mozawa, fellow collaborator on this soundtrack.

When heard in the background of Anonymous Club, the songs off of End of the Day fit almost flawlessly with the sensations stirred up by Barnett’s intimate video-diaries. In the documentary, fans are given a close up of her life on tour, her creative process, and the mental toll of having fame magnify her insecurities. The Guardian’s Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen described it as, “so intensely personal it almost borders on claustrophobic, as we enter the anxious mind of one of Australia’s most loved contemporary rock musicians.” There’s a reason that the soundtrack is able to authentically capture Barnett’s wandering, melancholy mind. It was improvised to a final-cut of the film, allowing the songs to evoke the precise emotions Barnett is feeling in each scene.

Just released on streaming platforms, the captivating power of the melodies maintain their weight even outside their original purpose. The opening track is “Start Somewhere.” It begins with a wavering yet ever growing pitch that sucks you in while simultaneously throwing you off balance. The guitar comes in and out, never acting as more than a hovering buzz or a wandering thought. The tune holds a distant feeling of longing when the texture thins to quivering chords, but keeps a sense of hope alive by never going fully silent. “Start Somewhere” flows effortlessly into “Life Balance.” In this song, each guitar note is accented and sustained, yet the space between them feels devastatingly empty. The pulses behind them are grainier and have lost the dream-like quality they held just one song prior.

Slight changes like these are able to completely shift the tone while keeping the songs minimalistic and cohesive. They fit so seamlessly that noticing a change in my own mood was the only signal that a new song had begun. Sustained notes flow from one song to the next, essentially making the album appear to be one forty minute song to the unknowing ear. This aspect makes the soundtrack perfect for meditation, the calming yet thought-provoking pulses and unbroken melodies make it almost inevitable to slip into deep contemplation. 

Shows on Courtney Barnett’s upcoming tour, beginning October 11th, will each feature two sets from versatile guitarist. One with the instrumental music from End of the Day and the other with songs from the rest of her music catalog. The two sets will be sure to provide both a holistic image of the musician as well as summon a contrasting set of emotions from its audience. The peaceful, spiritual moment brought on by End of the Day will give way to a rock concert that the crowd will have to quickly switch gears to enjoy.

Exploring Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘Guts’: A Pop-Rock Journey of Heart and Resilience

Sour,  the album written by Olivia Rodrigo after a publicized breakup, was a smash hit. It contained hits like “Driver’s License,” “deja vu,” and “good 4 u” that dominated social media discussions for months, something that still holds true today due to its solidity in the Billboard 100. I remained skeptical of the album’s popularity until I decided to give it a listen myself. Olivia Rodrigo, known for her role in “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series,” poured her heartache and pain into a ‘musical diary’. While the approach in the album theme isn’t entirely unique, she managed to create a distinctive sound by blending impassioned screeching and singing with the lyrical depth of a “sad girl.” While the lyrics might not resonate with everyone, the raw emotions are palpably woven into the music. This concoction catapulted her to the status of one of the youngest artists to achieve four times platinum status and amass over 50 million Spotify listeners.

That’s not to suggest Olivia Rodrigo falters in any way on this album. Her voice echoes even more powerfully in this record, bar none. Rodrigo has unearthed deeper heartbreak, more profound pain, and even addresses falling in love with gay men. Yet, the true essence of the album lies in her rapid ascent to fame and the emotions behind them. Lyrics like, “Got your whole life ahead of you, you’re only nineteen. But I fear that they already got all the best parts of me,” from Teenage Dream, hint at a sense of nostalgia for her earlier work, as if she believes her previous album was her pinnacle. She grapples with the fear that her current album won’t gel with anyone and that she has already peaked. This undercurrent of anguish entwines through every song, infusing the album with a sense of apprehension about what lies ahead. It transforms the album from a typical teenage “sad girl” narrative into a more universally relatable story of facing the unknown.

While Olivia Rodrigo undoubtedly strengthens the thematic thread running through her album, she also disrupts it. In her own words to the New York Times, “[I’ve] always loved rock music and always wanted to find a way to make it uniquely mine, to infuse it with femininity, and to convey vulnerability and intimacy.” Rodrigo’s  prodigious vocal talents serve her fiercely in her confrontation with the rock, even if she sometimes swerves  .‘Guts’ doesn’t quite veer into the realm of rock; it remains a pop album at its core. This longing for a rock-inspired sound does give rise to tracks like “get him back!” which, while a good song in itself, feels somewhat out of place and disrupts an otherwise seamless listening experience. It may sour some people looking to see her transform her sounds. Sorry to break it to those who want a rock album, you were given a great pop album.

Rodrigo has sharpened her voice, pinned down her emotions, vastly improved her song mixing, and hasn’t fallen down the sophomore album hole as many others behind her have. Even so she is fearful as many of us are. She wants to impress, she wants to scream, she wants to be heard. She doesn’t want to be held down by standards. She’s relatable, but yet intricate. Her feelings may feel conflicted, but her album is not. ‘Guts’, in its search to be something that it may not be, tumbles down. It gets back up each time, with new ideas and sounds that feel refreshing and different.