Death Grips Disappointment

There are some albums and songs that feel like events. They seem to carve out a place not just in the musical landscape, but in the personal lives of the listeners. I remember exactly where I was when I first heard Exmilitary. In hindsight I feel pretty naïve about this, but I truly felt like in a few years people could measure time by what came out before and what came out after. By now it seems pretty certain that, 2011 was not 1977 and Death Grips are not the Sex Pistols.

You could potentially blame this on external factors. Its obviously harder for anything to have such a large impact in the Digital Age. But I think the difficulty of this is overblown and I still believe that Death Grips could have spurned the 21^st century’s equivalent of punk (in fact, the first piece I ever wrote on music was about this very topic). The biggest thing standing in their way is Death Grips themselves.

For me, and many others, the group had an unexpectedly dominant 2011. Exmilitary came from pretty much nowhere. I listened to it more than any other album, and it was ranked highly on a number of year-end lists. They weren’t getting widespread radio play, but there was something for the hipster music press, hip hop heads, and college frat parties. Despite a sound that was brash and even nihilistic enough to put off many, it really seemed like they were one crossover hit from spreading like wildfire. Unfortunately, 2012 was full of disappointments musically and publicly.

The year started on an exciting, if unexpected, note as the band signed with the major label Epic and announced that they would come out with two albums. At the time, it seemed like they really could take over.

Their first album of the year, The Money Store started things off on an ambiguous note. There were positive signs: the cover was maybe needlessly crass, pornographic even. But it seemed to be the band’s message that their vision was singular as ever and that the major label signing wasn’t going to change anything other than how widely they would be distributed. It also contained some excellent songs, including closer “Hacker,” possibly their best song to date.

But as a whole, the album doesn’t work nearly as well as the debut. For one, while I wouldn’t remove a single thing from Exmilitary, there is a decent amount of filler here. On a few songs it sounds like the band is just going through the motions and following a formula without any real vision. The album also just isn’t that fun.

That may not be the first word that comes to mind when considering anything by Death Grips, but its a crucial piece of what makes them work. Exmilitary is downright vicious. At times it seems like they’re beaconing the apocalypse. But at the end of the day, you can sing along to just about everything. Perhaps the biggest difference between it and subsequent albums is the fact that they leave no room to breathe. Nearly every song is filled to the brim with a sonic assault. Admittedly, this is probably an intentional choice by the band and it does up the intensity. But ultimately, it just makes the listener care less.

Soon after the album’s release, Death Grips cancelled all dates on their scheduled international tour. They justified the cancellation by claiming that they needed time to finish their second album of the year, but this was the beginning of a frustrating pattern of the band’s disrespect towards both their label and their fans. In many ways, this fits the image that Death Grips cultivate in their music, but it’s a huge reason why they will never take off to the “next level.” In this day of Kickstarter and instant information transfer it is necessary for bands to cater to their audience, at least to some degree. Maybe this is a bad thing for music on the whole, but it’s a fact and it likely won’t be changing any time soon.

Perhaps if the band’s next album had been a huge success, all probably would have been forgiven. Unfortunately, No Love Deep Web committed a couple of sins. Its sound was unremarkable and it brought with it even more off-putting controversy.

In isolation, it is a very good album. I prefer it to its predecessor, though broader opinion seems relatively split.

The worst thing about it musically is that it sounds pretty similar to The Money Store. It’s far from an exact copy and for a lot of bands this wouldn’t be a problem at all. But Death Grips has always promised innovation, and putting out a recycled album is one of the least innovative things a band can do. In the long run, it probably would have been better for the band if they put out a horrible album that sounded nothing like their previous recordings.

Perhaps even worse was how the album was released. Epic wanted to push back the release date, but the band refused and after some squabbles leaked it on their own. In a nearly unprecedented case, public opinion seems more in favor of the label than the artists. This was likely because of the band’s earlier poor PR. And the fact that the cover was literally a photograph of a penis only reinforced their image as childish wannabe punks.

After this fiasco, Epic unsurprisingly dropped the group from their label, and 2012 ended on an unsure note. To be fair, the band is still in a pretty strong position. Both albums were critically acclaimed and the Epic stint did raise their profile somewhat. And they are still one of the most unpredictable groups currently working. But their potential to be a landmark group is quickly fading. Its hard to see them putting out anything better than what they’ve already made, or at least anything more exciting.

Worst of all, at this point its hard to divorce Death Grips from their non-musical stunts. For many listeners they’re defined by obscene album covers and petulant whining. When Exmilitary first came out, the group was shrouded in exciting mystery. Outside of drummer Zach Hill, the members were unknown, furthering their “coming out of nowhere” aura. It seemed like they could do just about anything.

But by now the curtain has been lifted. Unless they turn around and do something completely different (which, as stated, is entirely possible), the rest of their career will likely be a series of pretty good to very good albums that don’t really mean anything.

Icona Pop: I Love It

I realize this is the second consecutive post featuring a synth-pop female duo. I'm alright with that.

Sometimes you hear a song at the exact right moment and any semblance of objectivity you have about it is thrown out the window. For a period of time, maybe just a couple of days maybe years, it belongs in a category of its own. It seems like the song was written for you and no one else. Right now, that song is “I Love It.”

Some Background: in about a week I'll be moving to a new city where I've never been and know absolutely no one within about 500 miles. I'll be starting my first “real job.” Until about a week ago I wasn't sure where I would live when I get there. Its hardly a unique situation but to be honest, I'm as frightened as I've ever been. And this song is the perfect fuck you to fear, particularly the kind brought about by the onset of adulthood.

I first heard the song through the I Love Music Best of 2012 Track Countdown. It was mostly met with a chorus of vitriol, which I can understand. Lyrically and musically its pretty straightforward. It definitely walks the line between catchy and obnoxious. And to be totally honest it comes off as bratty and melodramatic.

As is the nature with such songs, the sheen will probably fade fairly quickly. But right now I love everything about it.

I love how the muscly, post-dubstep beat gives way to ostentatiously peppy teen-girl voices.

I love the delivery of “You're from the '70s but I'm a '90s BITCH.”

I love the insistent repetitiveness.

I love how they sing about vehicular suicide in the same way they'd sing about going to a party on a Saturday night.

I love that I've listened to this about 20 times in the past two days.

I love how it packs such a huge range of emotions into under three minutes.

I love the desperate delusional cling to youth.

I love that if there's a punk for Swedish synth-pop, this is it.

I love that I'm still naïve enough that a pop song can change how I approach life.

I love how I've been singing “I don't care, I love it” to myself constantly for 48 hours.

I love how straightforward it is lyrically and musically.

I love that it walks the line between catchy and obnoxious.

I love how its so bratty and melodramatic.

New Material by Tegan and Sara

If you told me a couple of years ago that I would be excited about new music from Tegan and Sara, I'd call it a bad joke. To be fair, I never paid much attention to their early indie-folk material and its entirely possible that there's more than the one-note schtick than meets the eye, but to be perfectly honest I have very little interest in finding out.

My interest was first piqued by their recent single “Closer.” When I first heard it on the radio I had fleeting hopes that it was some previously-unrecorded Cyndi Lauper single (incidentally, between this and Bruno Mars's “Locked Out Of Heaven,” we may have to put off the 90s revival for another year or so). Its very well-constructed pop music, if a bit anonymous sounding.

Their newest single, “I Was A Fool,” explores the sound further. As with “Closer,” my first thought was that it sounded fabulous. Both songs have extremely full production. In each song, there are many sonic elements that blend together very effectively.

The most notable improvement is that “Fool” uses the vocals much more effectively. Its a bit more stripped back, with a single piano line prominent throughout much of the melody. But with powerful synth washes, its still very lush compared to their early material. This suits the vocals better and allows their personalities to shine brighter. On the previous single, there may as well have been one vocalist, but here the dual, almost dueling, vocals really shine.

Soundcloud Link

Overall, its a great balance of emotional resonance and pop theatrics. Most exciting, I still think they can do better. The sound of “I Was A Fool” is a relatively unique one, at least in today's pop landscape, and I look forward to seeing Tegan & Sara explore it further.

Everything Everything and Risk-taking in Pop

Later this month, Manchester band Everything Everything will release their second album, Arc. If the reception from their first album and early singles from this one are any indication, it will make a reasonable splash in the UK and have little to no impact elsewhere.

To be fair, their modest profile is understandable and there are plenty of downsides to the group. Most notably, singer Jonathan Higgs’s voice is objectively bad. He has limited range, often sounds off-key, and is at times barely even comprehensible. His only real saving grace is an excitable charisma that truly shines about every third song, though to Higgs’s credit he imbues those songs with a remarkable amount of life.

Perhaps even more damaging to their success, the band doesn’t fit into many niches. They are highly unhip, even in this geek-chic era. Also, their sound often occupies an awkward space, too leftfield to be immediately catchy but also too pop-oriented (read: fun) to be fully embraced as “serious” independent music.

But despite their faults and lack of viability to many listeners, Everything Everything shouldn’t be ignored. They are one of the more musically daring groups around. More specifically, they’re one of the most inventive bands in their generation to use traditional rock instrumentation.

One demonstration of their creative vision is their name. For how generic it comes off as, it is a near-perfect description. Their songs are packed to the brim with well, everything: sounds and words all come at the listener at a breakneck speed. They’re the rare band that talks about having an endless list of influences and have a sound that lives up to that: their music frequently displays signposts from alternative rock, 90s pop, modern R&B, and more. And yet despite their myriad influences, the band has managed to carve out a fairly distinct and cohesive sound.

Even more importantly than their ability to effectively package sensory overload, Everything Everything isn’t afraid to fail and they don’t particularly mind being disliked. In an interview, Higgs was asked about his feelings on being panned quite thoroughly by Pitchfork (3.8). He jokingly responded that they were hoping for a 3.9 and then talked about how he would prefer to be hated than viewed as mediocre, citing his least favorite review as a three out of five. Of course, this isn’t an uncommon response to negative criticism, but I tend to actually believe it from Higgs for a couple of reasons. To be blunt, someone with his vocal limitations has to be ready to embrace vitriol.

Also, the band seems to almost court hatred. One of their biggest hits and best songs, “Photoshop Handsome” is a series of meditations on image editing. Musically and lyrically, the band dares the listener to roll their eyes at every turn, and a lot of listeners will do just that. But on this song at least, I think a significantly larger contingent will chant along and even join in with the band’s jerky dance motions.

This daring and almost confrontational approach stands in sharp contrast to many of today’s most critically lauded bands. Taking a look at Pitchfork’s list of the best albums from 2012, particularly what falls under the broad pop/rock umbrella, there’s nothing that I would blatantly object to, but there’s also not much that really thrills me. The albums are supremely crafted but generally in familiar ways.

Two albums in particular on the list, Bloom by Beach House and Tame Impala’s Lonerism are highly reminiscent of specific sounds: late 80s dream pop and Revolver-style psychedelia. While both albums update the production of their source material, the synth-featuring Lonerism in particular, neither make substantial departures from their source material.

This isn’t to criticize either band. They both made excellent pop albums with well-developed and singular visions. This is not easy and shouldn’t be trivialized. But it is safe. There is an unfortunate lack of truly daring albums that garner high critical acclaim. From the rest of the list, Grizzly Bear’s Shields is a step out of their own personal comfort zone, but that isn’t saying all that much. Visions is certainly experimental and Grimes’s sound casts a broad net. But she is also too stuck in the bedroom to make music that sounds great anywhere else.

Fiona Apple and Swans did make the top 10 with uncompromisingly creative albums. But that’s what we’ve come to expect from them both. Their albums stay pretty close to a well-beaten trail and for the purposes of this article it doesn’t really matter that they blazed the trails themselves.

The only possible exception is Chromatics, whose album Kill For Love features a diverse, expansive sound that doesn’t sound too much like anything else. But it still isn’t a particularly daring album. The group made an album that is interesting and enjoyable to listen to. But it doesn’t do much else.

In fairness to Pitchfork, some albums in the top 10 do what I’m describing. Both Kendrick Lamar and Death Grips released albums that are musically ambitious and completely uncompromising, but hip hop and however-Death Grips-wants-to-describe-themselves lend themselves to this more easily than pop and rock music.

It is only the rare group that has an adventurous, uncompromising sound that is diverse but consistently unique, isn’t afraid to take serious risks, but still manages to maintain critical and commercial success. Probably the last group to unequivocally meet all of the qualifications was Radiohead, but they have become much safer over the past decade. You can make a decent case that the White Stripes were such a band, though they never quite ventured out of blues rock far enough to be a safe bet. These bands should transcend categorization. Animal Collective flirted with being such a band in their early days, but they have since contented themselves with languishing in the indie malaise.

Several bands seem primed to take the step towards becoming such a band but are consistently held back. My personal favorite contender is Liars, but in over a decade they still haven’t accomplished much commercial success or a true signature Great Album.

To be clear, I don’t have any pretensions that Everything Everything is anywhere close to fitting in this category. The aforementioned bands took a lot of risks, but those risks nearly always paid off. They were willing to be hated but for the most part were widely loved. While its still early, Everything Everything’s hit to miss ratio will probably never be high enough. However, they give me hope that such a band can still exist.

Shut the Box: The Problem with Pandora-Style Listening

I’m far from opposed to technology in music. Far from it, actually. I fully embrace Kraftwerk’s idea of music as the product of a mechanistic process, and most of the bands that I truly love follow this model to some extent. Give me well-produced music over well-played music any day.

 
I want these feelings to be clear so that I don’t come off as a complete Luddite when I say that while I love technology’s impact on what we listen to, I have serious misgivings about its impact on how we listen. Perhaps the worst offender is Pandora, the Internet “radio station” which uses an algorithm that they call the Musical Genome to tailor the listening experience completely to an individual’s tastes. Many people will fail to see the issue with giving people what they want, seeing this simply as good business practice. This may be true for a restaurant or auto shop. But at the risk of sounding overly romantic, music isn’t just a commodity, it is an art form.

While defining the nature of art is well beyond the scope of this article, I believe that one important function it serves is to offer a lens through which to see the world. Every song is a look into the artist’s perspective on the world. “The artist” can be a singer, instrumentalist, producer, an entire record label, or (most often) some combination of the above. The beauty in music comes from the combination of so many different visions into a cohesive and unique worldview. Seeing music in this way exposes us to a literally infinite number of perspectives. By sheltering the listener from all worldviews except the ones with which they are comfortable, Pandora-style listening only gives us one perspective.

It's possible that I am being too hard on Pandora. I am certainly not saying that anyone who ever uses it is “wrong.” There are positive aspects of the system. When learning about a new style or sound it is one of the best tools available to a listener. For the most part it is an excellently designed system. The layout is exceptional, allowing the site to be at once easy-to-use, informative, and attractive. And whenever I make a “station” for a sound or band that I like, the results are certainly enjoyable. If it wasn’t so effective I would not be writing this. Pandora is problematic because it works so well that it has engrained itself into our culture and shaped how we view music.

To be fair, catering to listeners’ sensibilities started well before Pandora. Radio stations have been analyzing markets and matching up their playlists with what their audience wants since long before the Internet Age. But Pandora-style listening takes this to a startling level and adds a number of troubling new elements.

One of the most important aspects of music-as-art is the synthesis of words, beats, melody, production, even packaging and distribution, into something that is greater than the sum of its parts. Pandora cares only about the parts. Their explanations for why a certain song is played on a certain station read more like a stock inventory than anything else. By reducing music to so little, Pandora strips it of all meaning. It is for this reason that I am far more critical of Pandora than I am of similar services such as Last.fm, which bases “similar songs” off of user tags rather than a formula. Many of the same problems still exist, but there is at least a human element and the sense of community that music thrives on.

The destruction of this community is another danger of Pandora. Perhaps music’s greatest strength over other forms of art is that it is so public. It pervades our daily life at every turn and can’t be dismissed by simply looking away. I have quite a few musical and ideological problems with punk, but it was excellent at confrontation. The Sex Pistols playing “God Save the Queen” at Elizabeth II’s birthday party is an excellent case. No matter how you feel about the statement made by the Sex Pistols, it couldn’t have been made by any other art form.

Unfortunately, insularity is more and more engrained in our musical culture. We are more capable of and eager to shut out what we find to be unpleasant. While personal music players are much older and more responsible, the effect of Pandora is still significant and perhaps more sinister. While iPods and Walkmen before them allow us to exist in isolation, we do so only temporarily. But with Pandora, each station serves as a miniature musical world that revolves completely around us. Further, we can truly make this world our own; fine-tuning it to encourage certain songs and banish others. If one is dedicated enough, they can make it perfectly mirror their sensibilities. It is exceptionalism at its finest.

This insularity puts music completely in servitude to the listener. Not only does this make for a profoundly dull experience, it simply isn’t how art works. It isn’t even how life works. Consider a world where people go out of their way to interact with music they find repulsive, whether that is bubblegum pop, twangy country, or the blackest metal. Probably it wouldn’t lead to many converts, but it might lead to understanding. At the very least it would help us contextualize just why we like what we do listen to.

Perhaps I’m going too far, but I think that it would also lead to more openness in other aspects of life as well. After all, the problem with Pandora-style listening is the exact same problem with conservatives who get their information exclusively from Fox News. As a whole, our culture is far too prone to sticking its head in the sand when confronted with anything unpleasant. By refusing to challenge ourselves we refuse to grow in any meaningful sense. The instant-gratification and individual-centered nature of Pandora encourages this regression. By refusing to consider anything that upsets our established views, we cheat ourselves both musically and personally.

An Introduction

Welcome to Chic Misery, a collection of my thoughts on popular music. As an introduction, I’d like to talk about my approach to writing about music. Hopefully it isn’t too dull.

To me, music criticism is vastly undervalued and misunderstood. Its role should go deeper than simply decreeing what is good and what is bad. Music is an art form. It is also deeply intertwined with social and political issues. It is at once deeply personal and capable of unifying millions. In my writing, I attempt to see how music plays all of these roles.

Music criticism has a deserved reputation for being elitist and pretentious. I try to stay away from this. There is much more value in celebrating what I love than picking on anyone's tastes. That said, if I come off as pretentious, it's because this stuff really does matter to me.

In my mind the best music writing is part explanation of sound, part cultural critique, and part personal account. With this in mind, the topics will at times be very personal. Several articles that I will post eventually even reveal information about me that even many of my family members and close friends don’t know.  

As far as styles, I have pretty broad tastes. Much of my favorite music comes from the late 70s and early 80s. In the past couple of years I’ve gotten more and more into hip hop, so expect lots of that. The only genre that I haven’t been able to set any real foothold in is metal, but I’m working on that. I also love finding new things, so send as many recommendations as you like.

Hope you enjoy.