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Kim Gordon In Focus: Inside the Mind of the Art-Rock Enigma

Kim Gordon’s 2015 Girl in a Band  chronicles her artful life in vivid vignettes. 

Coolness, mystery, and artfulness create curiosity; Kim Gordon’s allure and opaque persona unravel as she documents her life. Known for her taciturn nature in Sonic Youth band interviews where her now ex-husband Thurston Moore would domineer the conversation, there is now only one voice across these pages. Her west-coast upbringing and New York evolution are told with precise, visceral recollection. Kim Gordon’s writing is mostly straightforward, so the poetic flourishes she describes performing with are bright and enchanting:

“I wondered if they were like me and craved the feeling of electricity and sound mixed together, swirling around my head and thru my legs. I always fantasized what it would be like to be right under the pinnacle of energy, beneath two guys who have crossed their guitars together, two thunderfoxes in the throes of self-love and combat, that powerful form of intimacy only achieved onstage in front of other people, known as male bonding.”

Throughout her memoir, she mentions the feeling of performance and pure expression, threading the serendipitous moments and frayed relationships into one form. In the first chapter, she documents the last Sonic Youth show. The shared history is over within an hour; Kim disenchants the reader, pulling them closely inwards. This is her life, the strangeness and betrayal of failed marriage, young-girl idealism shattered, a triumphant leap into another phase of life.

Kim launches us deeply into her childhood, writing in a hyper-sensory, poetic way, transporting us to 1960’s Los Angeles: “Eucalyptus bathed in the haze of ambition.” She parses apart the darkness beneath LA’s allure, the specific dichotomy of academic and showbiz families. Along with the ever-changing, turbulent 1960s culture of beatniks and political bedlam, Gordon gives an intimate recounting of her relationship with her brother who eventually was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Keller Gordon, described as a “hyper-verbal troublemaker,” created Kim’s icy demeanor that the media is so tantalized by – a woman with quietude is inherently shocking, especially in a musical scene with loud rockstars such as Courtney Love and Kathleen Hanna. Now the press can go home, the mystery has been unlocked.

Kim details her teenage escapades and bullheaded desire for a life in art. Her tiny wonders are sprinkled throughout the book, details like jewels. The serendipity of encountering bandmates at small, crowded city clubs where groups would perform and disappear shortly after, similar to her initial bands that formed and dissolved quickly, leaving room for Sonic Youth.

She often brings up her past relationships and attraction to intellectual renegades, the minds with nuance who supported her artwork. Kim credits them with shaping her fearlessness in art. Her affinity for men devoted to art led her to one of the most innovative guitarists  in rock history, Thurston Moore.

Since Girl in a Band was written in 2015, Moore is slyly mentioned most of the time, as she admits that her heart is still broken following their divorce. Some of this commentary comes off as truly snide; digs against cultural figures such as Billy Corgan, Jeff Koons, and Courtney Love almost feel too personal and unnecessary in paragraphs. However, this is Kim’s life, and her unadulterated opinions. Moments of brashness are juxtaposed with her day-to-day self-consciousness.

Sometimes it is difficult to discern whether her judgments are drawn from the media or her own mind. Phrases littered with “maybe that’s why,” “probably because of,” and “I think,” skew the reality of the book. One could suppose that her life is as she sees and experiences it, however, the voice of judgment appears often, never quite clear if it is just her thoughts or something that has been said to her. Her heartache is palpable especially towards the end of the memoir when describing the cataclysmic discovery of texts and emails from the “other woman.” The reader gets vicious insight into a shattering marriage and how Kim’s daughter, Coco Gordon Moore, was hope incarnate. Maternal love and instinct is a natural concoction of determination. Even before her divorce, she undertook the balancing act of rock stardom and motherhood. Kim sweeps the disillusionment that the public has of musicians in her own words. Sonic Youth’s 1988 album Daydream Nation may be in the Library of Congress for its imprint on American culture, yet her stories of divorce and insecurity all ring with the same melancholy of the human experience.

The most bemusing stretch of her autobiography is the tale of her own art history. Her vivid descriptions of New York City in the seventies and eighties elucidate its non-stop energy. A life in pursuit of art is seldom talked about in detail. Usually interviews deal with the content of albums, but Kim walks us through the cheap foods and menial jobs, and most importantly the steadfast desire to stay in New York. These pre-Sonic Youth are redolent of Patti Smith’s memoir Just Kids. Pure artists live in squalor in the pursuit of self-expression. Gordon remarks “everyone says they knew at age five that they wanted to be an artist.” New York is the quintessential art city, an eternal buzz of restlessness beckoning for more ideas in the air. She leaves LA knowing that she “had to in order to become who she always wanted to be.”

After becoming a member in Sonic Youth, her story takes off. Chapters rush by like their seven-minute noise-rock jams. Kim captures the flashing punk rock touring scene with old diary entries from a collection called Boys are Smelly. Typical diary entries are prosaic and confessional; this collection teems with rock-and-roll history and gender study. She writes that “For many purposes, being obsessed with boys playing guitars, being as ordinary as possible, being a girl bass player is ideal, because the swirl of Sonic Youth music makes me forget about being a girl. I like being in a weak position and making it strong.” Male bonding is a curious thing for her; touring, performing on stage, and creating music allows her to enter the male dimension, or in her ideal case, the genderless art realm.

The halcyon days of Sonic Youth are laced with her current heartbreak as Kim recalls her past with Thurston. She intersperses the golden past with ultimate betrayal, winding in and out of positive so he never comes off as lovely as he once did. I found that these moments of mentioning the present broke the transported nature of Kim’s writing; her sensory details and city context are lush but turn sour when the present is threaded into the story. She begins with a self-quote from therapy:

“The codependent woman, the narcissistic man…It’s a dynamic I have with men.”

A relationship centered around art is a recurring theme for Kim, as most relationships in her life in this memoir are linked to or are purely art-based. They are also numerous in the beginning, giving insight into her development as an artist through supportive relationships. As she moved around the country from LA to Chicago and ultimately New York, she encounters brilliant minds along the way. It’s a joy to see who she gravitates towards; they’re all unique creators such as Mike Kelley who later designed Sonic Youth album artwork. The budding romance between her and Thurston shines with their old passions to create something new in the music world; this part holds some of Kim’s best passages in the book – when she’s not including the future mess. I found myself smiling when turning the page. Vignettes of holding hands and waltzing into a movie theater or conversations about “reclaming the term ‘noise rock’” warmed my heart. Their initial union with Thurston’s confidence and Kim’s quieter ambitions shine with potential that eventually materializes in the album-by-album rundowns.

Throughout the memoir, Kurt Cobain’s story waltzes through. She describes him as having an otherworldly kindness and sensitivity. Soft details of Cobain are seldom shown in media. Usually one sees his punk rock stage-self and tragic stories. Gordon humanizes him, transports the reader into a moment with him. He wasn’t tall, he was a rather meek, sensitive figure off-stage. She noticed his self-destructive tendencies and even leans into the writing to tell us that making a home with Courtney Love was a quicker path to darkness. Gordon describes the immediate kinship she felt with Cobain, the intuitive sense of meeting another emotional and sensitive person. She never fluffs up the narrative, admitting that they weren’t best friends, but that the connection was strong. Gordon’s stories of the enigmas of the nineties rock world give insight to a place no journalist could ever go.

Distilling the unique feeling of creating and performing music is no easy task. Kim Gordon reminds the reader throughout her memoir why she loved the heart-racing lightning strikes of on-stage moments. She even makes a jovial comment that if she couldn’t express herself through music that she’d probably just be a sociopath. The act of creating art fuels her, never demurring. Her first and only solo record thus far, No Home Record, was released in the fall of 2019. It recalls the noisy, art-rock of Sonic Youth, but melded with new futuristic-sounding percussion and electronic embellishments. She admits in Girl in a Band that she always had a cloud of insecurity even in the more confident moments; No Home Record is the few-years-later coalescence of growth. Kim Gordon never stops creating, whether it is visual art or music or poetry – her mind has always been a tender yet forceful one in the art-rock scene.

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Where to Start by Bully: Fiery, Catchy Modern Punk

Where to Start is the first single and music video from Bully’s third studio album SUGAREGG, exploding with melody and singer and songwriter Alicia Bognanno’s passionate screams. 

Quarantine-induced music has ribboned magic into the strangest of times. Artists free from the endless rush of tour are allotted unorthodox amounts of time for their minds to unfurl. Alicia Bognanno, known to the music world as Bully, returns with her third record SUGAREGG, released August 21st, 2020. “Where to Start” launched the project into cyberspace with raspy vocals, indelible bass-lines, and guitar riffs full of fun fury. This bouncy, cathartic punch of a song begs to be played live in a room of sweat-dripping, raucous punks. It is riot grrrl with the heart of a poet. “Where to Start” chronicles Bognanno’s bipolar II disorder, and her strife reflects artfully in the lyrics and accompanying video. The video is a frenetic colorful rush that feels like the inside of one’s brain, a dream visualized. Colors splash one after the other on screen, superimposed with footage of Alicia singing, playing bass, playing guitar, performing wildly in her home. We follow her on a journey of whim, desperation, and anger. Aligning with “I live for you to tear me apart,” three separate shots of Bognanno are shown of her holding a knife to her palm, undoing her braids, and wailing on guitar. The music video is a prism of mood. There is a grunge-like nature to the visuals; film grain, smudges, and distortion. From electric blue to deep red, the aesthetics give off a synesthetic quality. Vivid abstract flares and textures render the song a moving painting with Bognanno superimposed like a modern-art exhibit. The juxtaposition of color and Bognanno’s home feels like an autobiographical dreamscape. It is her likeness, her scrunched expression, guitar playing, and a bloody nose in the shower that feels incredibly personal, but dreamlike due to the ever-changing colors. Alicia splatters paint on a canvas while the lyrics “You turn me back into a child / erratic, desperate, sad, and wild” ring out. The agitated, manic nature of the lyrics and overdriven guitar melt perfectly together.

SUGAREGG is a capricious whirlwind of an album in rock music today. “Where to Start” is brimming with emotion, the fast-pulsing punk that one can lose themselves in, whether in a bedroom alone or on a run. The song is multidimensional, any mood (except for bedtime wind-down time) can enjoy this song. Now is the time to rock out. There are few artists who swell with the howling emotion of Bully in 2020. SUGAREGG demands a listen.

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Sonic Reducers: Chill Punk Kids

Cornell-hailing punk band Sonic Reducers tap into a vibrant and genuine art form in a DIY fashion.

 

The weather outside is far too warm for an autumn day. Sonic Reducers begin appearing on my screen, smiling. Everyone appears to be in the serene moods. It may be virtual and my glimpses of body language are terribly limited, but the aura radiating from Sonic Reducers casts a comfortable feeling into the air. Their music is punk yet not riotous; their sound sits in an eclipse of punk and indie fuzz rock. The chillness of Sonic Reducers is warm, welcoming, and the delegation of answering questions is natural. No one appears hindered by the influences of any great city. Floating in cyberspace now, we delve into the intricacies of the band. A mere year-and-a-half-old, Sonic Reducers have a full-length out, and it’s self-titled.

Ayta Mandzhieva, a junior architecture student and native Russian, began dreaming of forming a punk band after she had read Percy Jackson & the Lightning Thief in Russian. One of the main characters mentioned Green Day, she googled the moniker, and shortly thereafter began learning guitar. Somehow it was her first time telling this story as her bandmates replied in wonderment that they had never known the genesis of her musical passions. During the Cornell Orientation Week (the first week before school for freshmen to mingle and acclimate), Ayta met her future bandmate and drummer Jackson Rauch at a collegetown party. They dove into a conversation about music and agreed to play together, getting ideas flowing already. Since Orientation Week brims with activities, all four members found themselves at the same event.

Luke Slomba, the lead singer and guitarist, arrived a half-hour late to a half-hour long radio open house and serendipitously met Ayta and Sebastian at the Cornell radio station. The inevitable freshman mistakes and college radio encounters all follow in the jagged way that punk kids meet. Luke recognized Ayta as she was in the same architecture major, and introduced her to his roommate and future bassist of Sonic Reducers, Sebastian Fernandez.

Ayta casually mentioned to Luke that she was in a band to which Luke replied “That’s so cool! I could show up if  you have a practice or something!”

At the heart of punk is a keen messy candor. Add college students to the mix and you end up with frazzled and genuine art. They also carry a quirky performing history, with the guitar and bass player shotgunning La Croix seltzers throughout the intro of their song return to ithaca. The half-wild nature of Sonic Reducers manifested naturally, a bunch of passionate college students existing creatively together.

Their first practice occurred at Cornell’s program housing dorm called Just About Music, JAM for short. Afterwards, the unnamed quartet sat at a table in the dining hall, pining over name ideas. There happens to be an extraordinarily compelling class (to me) offered at Cornell  – during  Ayta’s freshman fall, she enrolled in MUSIC 2006: Punk Culture: The Aesthetics and Politics of Refusal. She suggested the title of the Dead Boys song, Sonic Reducers. Sebastian clarifies today that the name is sort of a joke, prodding at the comments they receive about being a Sonic Youth pastiche. Jackson expresses a different sentiment of the name, calling Dead Boys a huge inspiration. Sonic Reducers explain that they aren’t actually  Sonic Youth fanatics, remaining unfamiliar with their greater work. Teen Age Riot is a cool song though, Sebastian concedes. Luke’s father held nothing back in telling him that their song everything i hate about american cities sounds exactly like Kool Thing. Though maybe it’s better to be compared to Sonic Youth’s second most famous single than a Blink-182 cover band.

 

Sonic Reducers’ influences are a mix of rock sub-genres, melting together into the shape of their sound. Jackson’s drumming history is a colorful one that permeates the Sonic Reducers’ sound. As a fan of reggae, he borrows reggae drumming patterns and places them in a punk context. Having also played blues rock in high school, he affirms that his favorite music is old-school punk. Ayta japes, “What about Brand New?” He stands up to show his shirt, blushing in embarrassment because of the  singer’s scandal. Known today as “cancelled,” Jackson claims he doesn’t want to give them a platform, but Sebastian interjects with more banter, “Yeah just wear their sweatshirt!”

 

Sebastian confesses, albeit with pride, that he began learning the bass after agreeing to be a member of Sonic Reducers. He crafted the basslines for the debut album first on MIDI, almost as one composes music, and then purchased a bass over winter break 2018 to learn it on the instrument itself. The prominent, melodic bassline of Is This It? by The Strokes is his primordial inspiration for writing.

 

Luke Slomba stands as the main songwriter although each member adds to the sound. One song from his high school demo archive, cool hair, is on the record. Once a drum-machine and acoustic guitar diaristic indie song, now a ska-punk dynamic, throttling banger. The reworked final version combines Jackson’s eclectic drum style with the punk influences of Ayta. The combination of sounds and ideas shows the DIY harmony of Sonic Reducers. Luke did not name each song that was a demo of his, but expressed his wonderment with how the songs effloresced when they were revisited and recrafted.

The do-it-yourself atmosphere of Sonic Reducers coalesced through the recording process. The music program housing had several spaces for practicing and recording, however, time was precious and often, rooms were full of other students ribboning together their own creative endeavors. Once Sonic Reducers realized that they had a catalog of tunes, the next step was to begin recording the album. Some vocals were recorded in unorthodox spaces, such as those for supermarket, recorded at a desk in a tiny dorm room. Free time for Cornell students is sparse during the semester, so Jackson and Luke crafted a system of quick-learning. Luke would have an idea recorded from a drum machine, play it for Jackson, and after five minutes of listening they’d record takes for about an hour.

“We’d mic the drums, press record, put a metronome in, and record a song” Jackson and Luke detailed the simple process of drum recording, but perhaps the swiftness of learning relates to Jackson’s immense talent. Usually Luke would mic all of the instruments and record, but Sebastian took to the computer to produce and mix the record.

The recording process was wildly rushed, Luke joking that he didn’t really know why they were so adamant about mixing it by a particular date. They speak about this frenetic, frazzled time period with chuckles, Sebastian nonchalantly saying that he mixed the entire album for eight hours straight on a random Friday, not knowing anything that he was doing. I asked him how the experience felt, and he responded ironically with “I was just pretty tired after it.” There is a small jovial note at the bottom of their bandcamp page that reveals it was uploaded at exactly 3:22 A.M. The ungodly yet fairly normal hour for college students adds to the punk clumsiness and charm. Everyone agrees that the rushed mixing process gave the record a distinctive sound.

After the release of their self-titled debut album, Sonic Reducers played as many open-mics as they could. All of their eyes glow when Ayta mentions the Watermargin show of September 2019. At this performance lies the heart of Sonic Reducers lore; the candid, quirky, laid-back, fun vibe that radiates into the crowd. The cyber-chatter begins to overlap as each member jubilantly tells the story. This performance is luckily immortalized on Youtube, quickly discovered by searching Sonic Reducers Cornell. The video is recorded from a nearly front-row perspective, very close to the band. Everyone glistens with sweat, strumming with passion. The intimate camera angle never dips away to show the crowd, but the closeness makes you feel like you’re right there. About 11 minutes in is what the band calls their “legendary” moment: the La Croix supernova. Luke announces “now comes a special moment in our set.” Jackson brandishes the cans to the crowd well above his head and shouts jovially,“This concert is endorsed by La Croix! Zero calories!” The moment the cans pop and burst, Luke begins the intro to return to ithaca. Sebastian and Jackson toss the cans and join in. The timing is immaculate. Shotgunning seltzer and singing about the cold winter of Ithaca at a co-op on campus is a quintessential Sonic Reducers moment. It may have been their only full-band show, but it serves as inspiration for the upcoming shows once the world is not in a seemingly never-ending pandemic. Over this cloudy time they’ve done acoustic sets over Instagram live. The tantalizing, invigorating magic of live shows is a ways away, but Sonic Reducers continue to write punk songs that they wish to perform someday. The band admits that communication relating to the band has lessened over the past few months, even Sebastian joking “Wow we’re so good at being a band!”

Everyone has creative ideas brewing even though they haven’t met together in a while. Ayta actually announced an idea she hadn’t told the other members yet. An EP, tentatively titled 4D is a concept for four songs in the guitar tuning Drop D, a common tuning for punk and grunge music. Her bandmates are excited about this, mentioning ideas of including a cover they’ve done of a  Pavement song. It may be a triumph to get all of Sonic Reducers in a room together, but once they convene, punk magic occurs. The future is vast and welcoming to their passions, and so they will create and blossom.

 

 

 

 

 

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ARTPOP by Lady Gaga: Seven Years Later

Lady Gaga’s boundary-pushing album ARTPOP takes on themes of femininity and sexuality, still incredibly important to fans.

Gaga performing her song Venus at the ARTRAVE Tour, 2014.

Lady Gaga’s third album ARTPOP is a collection of eccentric, conceptual, and colorful songs. In 2013, it was a disastrous phantasm of experimentation. Charts donned singles but sales overall were timid for the super-pop-star at the time. ARTPOP was often deemed “highbrow” for a pop album, with many creative moments soaring above the public’s Katy Perry-fixated minds. It was a futuristic, camp narrative of a woman overcoming sexual trauma and exploring an artful landscape constructed by modern artist Jeff Koons.

Gaga’s baroque outpouring of creativity and experimentation was questionably and poorly received. Lyrics surrounding feminism are blown into grandiose pop songs, tilting the norms of a commercial album. I’ve selected standout tracks that never made it on the radio, but deserve a place in anyone’s ears.

TRACK ONE: AURA

ARTPOP opens with a plucky, frantic guitar sound and western-movie reminiscent tones. The distorted voice and eerie howls in the background that greet us with the deranged speak of a murder of Gaga’s “former,” and fall into a sitar melody with maniacal “ha ha ha’s” until we reach a very 2013-like EDM buildup. The drop launches us into spoken-word on top of a slimey, neon, bassy synthesizer. The lyrics are a feminist declaration of who she is, with camp undertones: “I’m not a wandering slave / I am a woman of choice. / My veil is protection for the gorgeousness of my face.” Originally titled “Burqa,” this song is an undressing; the chorus taunts the listener in a cosmic sea of starry synths if they want to “see the girl who lives behind the aura.” She calls herself an “enigma popstar,” mentioning that she may wear things not as a statement but just as a move of passion. It exhibits her true artistic spirit, to wear, dance, and create for the sake of creation. While it does not reveal what is behind the aura just yet, it sets a colorful scene for what follows in ARTPOP.

TRACK TWO: VENUS

Produced by Lady Gaga herself, the sonic palette that follows is cohesive with the previous track. The EDM sounds are melted into a pop atmosphere, not overwhelmingly wubby or deterring. Venus is an intergalactic love song, weaving space with hot love. The repeated “Venus!” reminds us of the goddess of love throughout the entire track The overarching sublime hedonism lyrically is juxtaposed against a camp, electronic instrumental, resplendent with synthesizers. The bridge is an homage to the planets, and especially after listing Uranus, she shouts in a semi-comical, semi-powerful yell “Don’t you know my ass is famous?” The track is an ode to a cosmic lover, one who’s “out of this world, galaxy, space, and time.” The theme of Venus is baroque, alluding to the world of ARTPOP that Gaga affirms in the titular track. One can create anything, and this is one of many fantasies of art that occur on this album.

TRACK 3: G.U.Y.

G.U.Y. is an acronym for ‘Girl Under You.’ It opens with a spoken word passage that continues the Greek god theme established in Venus by mentioning Himeros, the god of sexual desire. G.U.Y. is a nuanced view of feminism over a frenetic dance beat. The riff in the background has a gritty, aggressive quality, which is a reason why one could have been dissuaded from this song, but it bursts and breathes in the chorus. It is pop experimentation with the EDM trend of 2013 with lyrics that take decoding and ultimately becomes a frequent relisten. Lyrics such as “I’m gonna wear the tie / want the power to leave you / aiming for full control of this love,” assert power, but then in the chorus she decodes G.U.Y. for us: she wants to be in power, but without the trope of being powerless when you’re underneath somebody, both figuratively and sexually. The message of being a powerful woman whilst not wanting the norm of submission to continue is a hefty feminist statement not made by any other pop artist at the time. G.U.Y. is Gaga asserting herself as the intense figure that she is. 5’2 and sure of what she wants in love.

TRACK 4: SEXXX DREAMS (or censored as X DREAMS)

Lady Gaga claims that this track was born out of a psychedelic trip and not until the last moment did it coalesce. A shimmering, 80s inspired instrumental glows as Gaga has almost a conversation with herself. One is talk-singing, the other replying in song. This song is a full admission of illicit thoughts to the lucky person, so candid in nature that she even includes a clip of her talking that mimics the confession that she’d genuinely make to the person at a party. The lines are a bit too raunchy to share here, but the message is a tongue-in-cheek due to how forward she is. This song was never likely going to become a radio hit as the FCC would have laughed at any attempts to censor the message. This song also speaks about Gaga’s bisexuality at a time when LGBTQ+ themes were mostly absent from mainstream pop music. In 2013, her blunt lyrics, subtle humor, and catchy melodies were overlooked.

TRACK 6: MANiCURE

MANiCURE experiments with a cocktail of classic rock guitar shredding and modern dancehall beats. Gaga’s energetic vocals are belted like an 80s rockstar with a hint of Kate Bush. The song begins with the private moment of getting ready to see someone, putting lipstick and perfume on but in a wildly flamboyant way. The bombastic nature of this song matches the ardent vocals, even though the subject is that of an insecure relationship, perhaps on both sides. The production is huge, with a booming drum beat, clapping rhythms, and synths that brighten the mostly gibberish chorus. Even though the chorus may be less literary than a song like G.U.Y., it is still ARTPOP to Gaga, meaning that it is her passion driving this heavy beat pop song. MANiCURE speaks about taking time to oneself perhaps by getting a manicure in order to cure oneself of the insecurity of a relationship with a man. The moment that one takes to focus on makeup, nails, or any type of self-care in that realm is a moment seldom spoken about in music, yet it can be therapeutic to have time alone to get dressed up and feel beautiful.

TRACK 7: ARTPOP

The thesis of the album blossoms in this track. “Come to me / in all your glamour and cruelty,” and “the melody that you choose can rescue you.” The funky synth in the background sounds like an intergalactic telephone, as Gaga sings “We could belong together ARTPOP.” This song is the most lyrically dense on the record, speaking of how art can withstand the capitalist nightmare of the music world we live in. Gaga paints us a fantasy that she manifests in this album. Art and pop can fuse in a colorful, experimental palette. Her creative side of eccentricity is not for shock value, rather for expression, echoing back to the line in Aura that “it’s not a statement as much as just a move of passion.” Her art flourishes in choice, sometimes cultural commentary, other times decadent, the idea that art for art’s sake is the soul singing through the medium of song. Immaterial, visceral passion is perfectly apt ground for art, as she says “my ARTPOP could be anything.”

TRACK 11: MARY JANE HOLLAND

Opening with a guitar riff written by a teenage producer from France, Mary Jane Holland is an avant-garde hyperpop song bathing in synths and unusual beats. Freedom from international fame is a fantasy for Gaga; she conjures a character named Mary Jane Holland, free from blonde hair and the “culture of the popular.” This track chronicles her time in Amsterdam with freshly-dyed black hair, in disguise for the first time in years. It’s a breathtaking song about Gaga having a breath of air unpolluted by paparazzi. In an experimental bridge, one cannot tell if the instrument in the background is an electric guitar or distorted synth. Theatre-inspired vocals create a strange narrative over an EDM beat that beckons her back into the last chorus, in which Mary Jane Holland is introduced as a star again with cameras clicking in the background. Her escapist dream is over as the show begins that night in Amsterdam.

ARTPOP was a wild art experiment in 2013, sonic palettes leaving listeners confused instead of bemused, but now one should relisten and swim in Gaga’s colorful world.

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Fetch the Bolt Cutters: We’ve All Been in Here Too Long

Fiona Apple performed three songs off of her newest release.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters Album Art (2020)

“This world is bulls**t; go with yourself,” Fiona Apple famously said during her 1997 Video Music Awards acceptance speech. In just a few dense sentences she established herself as willfully honest. The world from that moment on thought of her as a diva, insulted by receiving the award. She dissolved the pragmatic cleanness that the average popstar held. A year after her critically acclaimed debut Tidal, the American singer-songwriter and pianist, Fiona Apple shattered the fantasy of the pop machine. She implored everyone to do what they individually find cool, not what one would think that a celebrity would find cool. Pompous in 1997, revelatory in 2020. Fetch the Bolt Cutters arrived nearly a month into the strange in-between world that we call quarantine. Through cyberspace I experienced this album; in my bedroom, in my car, on walks, with my one friend down the block. My Spotify social tab for the entire month following the release was full of friends listening to Fetch the Bolt Cutters. This album was made in a reclusive swirl of creativity, all of the sounds and lyrics coming from the confines of her California home. Her five dogs are credited on the album for their barks at the end of the title track. This domestic atmosphere, however, is a limitless well of emotion and lyricism. The poignance Fiona Apple brings to the musical world is unprecedented; she writes with an acute vulnerability where her unadulterated thoughts and poetry coincide. There is no holding back from what should be said on any Fiona Apple album. For a woman who is known for her open and loud mouth, she sings with conviction and precision.

Apple performed three tracks on Fetch the Bolt Cutters live for the first time for the New Yorker Festival which was broadcasted online. She opens with Shameika. She begins by nodding her head, a knowing smile on her face, ready to enter the portal of her art. The song kicks off with a heavy drum beat then immediately rushes into the avalanche of melody played by Fiona on the piano. The notes rock back and forth on a scale that is tonally jazzy and dark. Each movement has purpose, as she dances her hands across the piano. Her voice joins in, enunciating each lyric as each line feeds into the poetry. She shouts “Hurricane Gloria in excelsis deo / that’s my bird in my tree / my dog and my man and my music is my holy trinity,” all whilst pounding rhythm and melody out of the piano. Her visage is strong; eyes shut, jawline taught, voice sharp. In several interviews she has described Shameika as a list of the things she likes about herself, finally. Compared to Fast as You Can, a single from her sophomore album, instead of calling herself crazy, she’s “pissed off, funny, and warm,” and “a good man in a storm.” There is sureness of self in a world where she has cultivated strength instead of weakness. There is less questioning; she takes an event that occurred in sixth grade in which a girl who was not her friend, Shameika, said that Fiona had potential. She sings the hook with unrelenting passion, and when her piano part fades out, she puts her hands to her hips and says it again. The message got through to her, and even though it’s over twenty years later, Fiona Apple knows she has potential. She faces her piano the entire performance, her band jamming behind her. She’s in her own dreamworld of art, closed eyes with intuitive hands nailing every note. The songs are so threaded within her, it feels as if she is performing alone at home similar to how she recorded the album.

Shameika fades out in a funky, bassy trudge and we cut to a black screen. “FETCH THE BOLT CUTTERS” flashes on the screen, and Fiona is now sitting at a small drum set. She plays the opening beat of the title track, a stern look on her face. One can see when she is passionate about a particular line, slamming the drum harder, wincing in artistic truth. The talk-sing cadence of this song combined with the intimate close-ups of Fiona at the drum set feel like a conversation one could have with her. Remarking on a friendship with candid lyrics of what tumult happened, she launches into the titular chorus: “Fetch the bolt cutters, I’ve been in here too long / Fetch the  bolt cutters /whatever happens, whatever happens.” It’s a freeing motif; knowing when to let go, and finally doing it. She jovially talks about how judgments and comparisons affected her in the past, now embedded and understood. The comparisons were shallow and those judging her truly never knew her. She even references Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill,” as the freedom from the searing douleur of judgment: “I grew up in the shoes they told me I could fill / shoes that were not made for running up that hill / but I need to run up that hill / I will, I will, i will…” She shouts the last line, knowing her goals now and the distorted mess of the past.The shuffling rhythm of the drums melds gently with her voice, the xylophone shining in the background. She continues to shout “Whatever happens / I will” with wild power. She is a woman who knows where to go, her decisions informed by the splendid chaos that is living.

The last track we are presented with is the opening track of the album “I Want You to Love Me.” Fiona plays the opening melody on the piano, a glistening, wistful line. The piano receives the camera’s close attention, each key and peg firing off into musical bliss. Fiona leans into the mic, prophesying her life, wishing for love. The second verse is the most potent lyrically; it’s almost naturalistic. She describes time as elastic, and that when she goes “all my particles disband and disperse and I’ll be back in the pulse.” She flows through life in a verse, at the end yearning for love. She knows that during the short span we all have, it’s critical to create the indelible connections that make the incessant questioning of existence worthwhile. We see her band sway in the background, taking in the heavy poetry of the song, dominated by her sweet, meandering piano. She holds out the “You” for several bars, breath-draining to most singers, capturing the longing for somebody in the line “I want you / to love me.” She adds vibrato not present on the album making for an even more visceral experience. The next verse is a drum-filled passage where Fiona amplifies her voice, belting her love and strength to this person. She peels back into the last chorus that waltzes into a falsetto and then into absurdity. She reaches the top, making hysterical high pitched sounds as the drums crescendo, one hand furiously tapping out a chord. Then it ends with a single “ah.” The performance is a whirlwind of yearning, power, sureness, and musical ingenuity. Fetch the Bolt Cutters is an album of honest precision by one of the most outspoken women in music. The lyrics are complex yet resonate immediately. This performance may not have been live but the emotion conveyed to the viewers is ethereal.

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a musical summer of my own

In order to dispel my insomnia, I had to craft a nightly ritual that fed and soothed my running mind. Predictably, I turned to music, my eternal plane of comfort. Each night, usually around 12am I’d turn my lamp off, allowed my purple string lights to be the sole source of illumination save my lavender candle punctuating the air with calmness. Then, I’d open my laptop and scour the internet for a new album I had not yet heard. The discoveries I made in my nighttime dream world before sleep colored the entire strange summer. I fortuitously met bands such as Animal Collective, Bully, Galaxie 500, DJ Shadow, and Dinosaur Jr, to name a few. Prior to returning home to endure the pandemic in Long Island, I felt dissonant from myself. As someone who has always been individualistic and extremely passionate about music, art, books, and anything creative, living in a sorority house demurred my vibrancy. I suppose summer in my mind began mid-March, so the timeline begins there. I realized how futile it was to care what these girls thought as I didn’t even like them in the first place, so I dove headfirst into the magic of avant-garde music as well as acquainting myself with classics I should have listened to years ago. I finally felt reacquainted with my own inner world, the magic of music propelling every bit of healing. I started writing my own songs and researched fervently each day to expand my breadth of musical knowledge. I continue to indulge in this routine of mine, ensuring creativity in each day. I also started collecting vinyl again, as I often take a hiatus from its financial burden. But the best thing about collecting vinyl is that you can hug your favorite album!