This writer is still stuck in "2020 Year In Review" mode because this writer refuses to believe that 2021 has even begun yet. Let’s agree this past week was merely the afterbirth of 2020 and move on to the real start of the year next week mmm’kay? And let’s pray we’re not dealing with evil 2020/2021 twins because I’m guessing they’d make those twins from The Shining look like nothing more than the "cousins…identical cousins" from The Patty Duke Show. Anyway, here’s one of my fave rekkids from last year I mean this year:
Imagine if the Manson Girls had talked Charlie out of that whole Tate-LaBianca nonsense and instead wrote a bunch of cool songs and talked Mr. Helter Skelter into murdering his guitar parts instead of writing drivel like “Look At Your Game Girl” and then enrolled as a group in some EST seminars and you may have ended up with something like this album rather than a bunch of dead bodies. On the Death Valley Girls’s fourth full-length, frontwoman Bonnie Bloomgarden and company subtly expand their sonic palette with a mix of funhouse organ and guitar, fevered sax squalls, motivational mantras (a children’s choir is even brought into service!) and a clutch of songs that put the “mesmerism” back into “mesmerizing.”
Opening track “Hypnagogia” sets the tone with its cascading layers of sound enveloping the listener in the liminal state of its title–a word for the twilight consciousness between wakefulness and sleep–a state that holds sway more or less to the last track with its declaration that “life is but a dream / that is really happening.” A kinda concept album about joy made by a gothy garage-psych band previously drawn to all things dark and spooky it’s unsurprising that DVG doesn’t offer up too many bromides here–”You will survive / while you’re alive” is pragmatic uplift–but the joy on offer *is* unhesitating and unadulterated. Best of all UTSOJ manages to capture something akin to the blissful state I’ve experienced alongside many others at DVG’s incredible live shows. And that’s a joyous thing indeed. (Jason Lee)
Vital stats: EDS is an inyourface, unapologetic, all-womxn alt-punk trio…preparing for the end of the patriarchy (source: official bio)
Latest release: Five-track “Eat Snacks and Bleed” EP released on Christmas Day, no doubt sending Hallmark movies everywhere scuttling into the shadows and hiding for the rest of the winter
One sentence EP review: EDS have taken their scrappy punk tunes into new territory with injections of doom metal, power pop, and psych rock which should provide listeners with years of immunity to all things lame and oppressive
Two songs & music videos that a generation ago would be all over college radio and 120 Minutes and Alternative Nation and probably would have the band opening for L7 by now: “Hard To Hold On” and the non-EP single “Subdivision”
First track of the new EP described in real time in one long run-on sentence: The opening minute of “Rank Heavy Metal Parking Lot” certainly lives up to its name, or maybe it’s more like the sound of rifling through an older brother’s or cool uncle’s record collection: starting with some lighter-waving Eddie-esque Eruptions and soon switching over to some Paranoidish head-banging power chords before settling into a more typical mid-tempo Sabbath stomp, but then when the vocals enter the song goes a little bit sideways into spacey psych-rocklandia with lyrics about hands and eyes and heads and beds shuffled into unlikely configurations ending with a repeated refrain about “waiting a lifetime” and seriously this song is starting to remind me of the Breeders’ “Safari” with its righteous riffage and brief bout of shreddage (Tanya D!) and hypnotic reverb-laden Deal sister harmonizing (a song whose music video is an homage to Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” hmm…) and then finally we’re back to the faster second riff and it’s all done in less than three minutes—all of which reminds me of the brace-faced redhead with the red cup in the actual movie “Heavy Metal Parking Lot” (go out and track down a bootleg copy on VHS if you haven’t seen it already) who says she wants to jump Rob Halford’s bones—purr purr sweetly deluded and extremely wasted feathered redheaded girl—and really when you think about it this song seems like it should be her soundtrack what with its frenzied hormonal drive and addled thoughts and unfulfilled longings, with our hero bravely making her way in the boyzone of the rank heavy metal hesher parking lot on her own terms and with unrestrained agency; I’ll bet that the red cup girl turned out just fine even if it took a lifetime. (Jason Lee)
Alex Shera places a soft touch on the hurt: his new single “Fire” is cool and soothing, reminding us that self-love is the first step towards loving others. With emotional vocals that sway to a background of immersive introductory clean guitar chords, a futuristic beat, and sizzling effects that add an edge to a love piece, it all is easy to take in. Shera may be playing with modern pop elements, but it is his emotion that carries his music above the fray and allows a connection with the listener that is the mark of a great upcoming artist. “Fire” is a declaration of love no matter the circumstances, always on its way to triumph; stream “Fire” below. – René Cobar
You would not say that there is much of 2020 one should bring into the new year, but few exceptions exist, among them is the year-end single by L.A.’s The Dumes titled “Ok.” The new track is power rock at its best: reverb-soaked guitar solos, a trashing drum beat, and distorted bass-powered breakdowns led somewhere heavenly by the confident-elegant vocal delivery of front-woman Elodie Tomlinson. The title expresses something simple, but upon examination, and in the context of the year behind and the work ahead, lyrics like “Can you try to find your hand in mine/And you’ll be ok when you find a match in the dark” there is a depth so relatable. As we move forward, The Dumes invite us to rock on, with a head held high, shaking to a quaking beat. – René Cobar, photo by Emma Cole
DURING THESE TIMES when most of us are feeling more than a little disconnected, New Myths‘ “Bad Connection” hits some kind of sweet and sour spot. And while virus as metaphor does feel a little on the nose–alongside mentions of being “frozen in time” and “folded inside”–I can attest to the fact that although New Myths put out the song (just barely) post-pandemic it was written and performed well before any hint of what was to come existed. Anyways a slightly closer listen to the lyrics, and a viewing of the video, reveals the song to be more likely about the foibles of mass media and modern tools of communication and disturbed mental states. But what’s crucial on another level is how it throbs with a nervous energy and a forward momentum that’s sorely needed–I remember seeing them live a couple times in the beforetimes and when drummer Rosie Slater belted out her banshee wail on the song’s hook while still rocking out behind the kit it was pretty damn energizing–so consider this single a shot in the arm.
Because the people demand it: here in one convoluted, name-dropping sentence is how I’d sum up New Myths. Neon-hued both visually and sonically, this power trio’s combination of intense electro-rock sonics, pop savvy, punkish energy, glam theatricality, and occasional gothy moodiness is something like the lovechild of Shirley Manson and Marilyn Manson who’s now all grown up and going to her first orgy with a guest list that includes the Hanson brothers circa “MmmBop” and the full cast of the Josie and the Pussycats movie during which a DJ is slated to spin tracks by Republica, Elastica, and Veruca Saltica to set the proper mood. (If there’s any major label reps out there looking to hire a professional blurb writer just slide on into the Deli’s DMs and I’ll hit you back.)
Speaking of all things neon-hued, New Myths released their music video for “Bad Connection” last month and true to form it’s pure adrenaline. I mean, sure, maybe you’ll never get to see Christopher Nolan’s Tenet in a movie theater. But this video contains enough video-within-a-video high concept moolah shots in the span of five minutes to fully scratch your meta movie itch. In a clip directed by prolific music video director and underground filmmaker Dylan Mars Greenberg (her filmography includes 2016’s Werewolf Bitches from Outer Space starring Janeane Garofalo) the trio of Brit, Marina, and Rosie take on roles ranging from a ‘40s Andrew Sisters style singing group (makes sense given how they can rock those three-part harmonies) to an ‘80s Pat Benetar type band to a Beastie Boys "Alive" homage all in convincing and rapid fire form.
The vid also features a substantial cameo appearance from Tish and Snooky, the legendary sisters on the scene who were active in NYC glam and punk circles in the 1970s. Tish and Snooky aka the Bellomo Sisters took on backing vocal duties in a Blondie-adjacent band and co-formed their own group known as the Sic F*cks (standout track: “Chop Up Your Mother”) and right around the same time in ‘77 they opened the first punk rock fashion store in the country, on St. Mark’s Place, called Manic Panic. And if that name sounds familiar you’re not mistaken because out of the store came the Manic Panic assortment of hair dyes that blew up big time and helped turn many once-average local mall rats into insta punk rockers and new wavers (and goth-ers and ravers) in the ‘80s/‘90s/2000s which is what DIY is all about after all. Power to the Peroxided People.
So suffice to say, New Myths cover a lot of ground in their "Bad Connection" music video. Now if only they’d made some references to the Roaring Twenties and dressed up as flappers it’d be the complete package but I suppose it can wait until the next video. Just so happens I’ve got a side hustle as a music video consultant so maybe have your people call my people… (Jason Lee)
Jam (noun): a sweet, sticky edible substance made of fruit and sugar, boiled to a thick gelatinous consistency that’s yielding and spreadable
Jam (verb): to push, shove, squeeze or otherwise manipulate an object into a constrained space, often implied to be aggressively or even forcibly realized
Contained in this little three-letter word are at least six or seven distinct meanings according to this thing once referred to as a dictionary (it’s like a papery blog). And while we’re talking semiotics it’s interesting to note how the two definitions above are on opposite ends of the spectrum in some ways: yielding vs. forceful, sweet vs. aggressive.
Another meaning of jam: “An extended, semi-unstructured musical passage, or entire musical work, in which synchronized, partially improvised interactions between musicians are of key importance–often with the objective of achieving a concentrated, intensified, and/or ecstatic state of perception among both musicians and listeners. The formal properties of the jam (aka “jammers”) tend to revolve around an optimal balance between repetition and variation; and on the macro level, a continuous ebbing and flowing in terms of tempo, dynamics, and/or texture before ultimately reaching a climactic release, with the notable exception of “mellow jams” or “droney jams” where such macro-level formal developments are de-emphasized or not sought at all.”
The long-running bands Woods are masters jammers (but not a “jam band,” you won’t find too many patchouli-besotted noodle dancers at their shows). And in their jamming they capture all the dictionary meanings of jam described above–playing music that’s alternately and sometimes at once both sweet and aggressive, ethereal and ferocious, disciplined and sprawling.
Besides their proclivity for jamming Woods are master songwriters as well with a musical palette stretching from pastoral folk rock to driving alt-pop to resplendent psychedelic rock. If you need proof of any of this I’d recommend spending New Year’s Eve and Day listening to their eleven albums (the latest being Strange To Explain released earlier this year) plus the compilation released out in October called Reflections Vol. 1 (Bumble Bee Crown King) that brings together rare and unreleased recordings made between 2009 and 2013. One standout on the latter is an early demo of “Bend Beyond” that’s a good deal more jammy than the version on the Bent Beyond album (2012). And below you can hear how they stretched out the song even more when they played it live.
Strange To Explain is a fitting epithet for the year that just passed, featuring songs that act as a gentle balm for dreamers (“Where Do You Go When You Dream?”) and insomniacs (“Just To Fall Asleep”) alike. Here is an album that puts the “vibey” back in vibraphone and the “mellow” back in Mellotron, both instruments featured heavily on the album.
The writing of Strange To Explain overlapped with the band’s Purple Mountains project, a collaboration with Silver Jews’ frontman David Berman. The reclusive songwriter and genius poet came out of a decade-long retirement from music to record the album with Woods. Sadly, after a life-long struggle with depression, Berman committed suicide in 2019 just weeks before a widely-anticipated Purple Mountains tour.
And so as we say good-bye and good riddance to 2020 let’s pay tribute to those we lost and those among us who feel lost. And give thanks for the transcendence granted by the music that we love–whatever it may be–more important than ever this past year. Personally I’ll be riding it out with “Weekend Wind,” the mellow jammer that closes Strange To Explain. (Jason Lee)
Imagine if a parallel-universe version of the band Television wrote songs about actual televisions with lines like “tell me all the things that you see in me / can it be explained through the TV? / cuz that’s all I know.” Now listen to “Ridden” and imagine no more.
On Hypoluxo’s third album which is A) self-titled, B) self-possessed, C) self-reliant, or D) all of the above the Brooklyn-based quartet makes the kind of post-punk-inflected guitar-oriented music that critics love to refer to as “angular.” It’s a fitting description but let’s face it there’s lots of different kinds of angles. Any geometrist worth her weight in protractors will tell you there’s acute angles and right angles and obtuse angles just for starters. On Hypoluxo, Hypoluxo has all these angles covered and more.
For sharp-and-severe acute angles take a listen to “Night Life” with its martial drum beat, slithering bassline and twin-guitar sheer heart attack. The song’s ricocheting melodies (headphones recommended) capture something of the anticipation and the anxiety, the potential desperation and potential catharsis of its subject matter, culminating in a frenzied freakout on the dancefloor.
Next, for some obtuse angles check out “Shock” which confronts the vague but pervasive sense of fear hanging in the air as of late. “Well it’s a SHOCK / working up / to realizing this is not a DREAM” is the immaculately articulated opening gambit, going on to describe a mind stressed and dulled by 2020 PTSD. Guitars circle overhead for much of the song, like a flock of angry-but-one-hopes-not-predatory birds, with the fog finally broken by the Rent Is Too Damn High refrain in the song’s coda.
And finally, on “Nimbus” Hypoluxo gives the listener the right angle (heh heh) on how weathermen (and weatherladies let’s be fair) are the scourge of humanity or at least one of them anyway. And wouldn’t you know it, the 1% own all the umbrellas. Michael Stipe once posed the question: “Should we talk about the weather [or] should we talk about the government?” But Hypoluxo make it abundantly clear that they’re one and the same thing. So let’s talk about both and hope for better weather in 2021.
(Jason Lee)
Maraschino, aka Piper Durabo, is a Los Angeles-based performing artist, songwriter, guitarist, producer, and radio DJ. So why cover her on the Deli NYC blog? Two reasons: First, having come across her music thanks to the gloriously askew “Synthmus” holiday special recently alluded to in this space, it turns out that Durabo started the Maraschino project while residing in the city in 2018 and had her live debut at a Red Bull Music Academy show in Coney Island; and second, because her featured performance on said holiday special, for which she also served as co-host, was a cover of Cristina’s “Things Fall Apart,” a song that’s New York City to the core.
Cristina, full name Cristina Monet Zilkha (1956-2020), was a massively influential but still largely unheralded New York City native whose handful of singles and two albums–released on ZE Records between 1978 and 1984–established a template for ‘80s downtown cool in terms of music and fashion and overall attitude that helped shape not only the early careers of mainstream artists like Cyndi Lauper and Madonna, but also countless others in subsequent years/decades who fused elements of pop, disco, punk, new wave, and avant-gardism as a sort of “Brechtian pastiche” in Cristina’s own words. Ms. Monet Zilkha sadly passed away on March 31, 2020 after suffering for years from autoimmune disorders and then contracting COVID early in its reign of horror. Obituaries can be found here and here.
The similarly single-monikered Maraschino is by all appearances a 21st-century inheritor to Cristina’s legacy. From her output with the Teen Vogue touted sister-act Puro Instinct, who were once described as “Stevie Nicks through a lens of chiffon and horse tranquilizers” (Isn’t Stevie Nicks usually already wearing chiffon? Oh well, nevermind!) to her several singles released under the new cherrubic rubric, Ms. Durabo is clearly an apprentice of Christina’s outsider pop art, or as she herself puts it “mystic disco-pop for introverts.” Along these lines Maraschino’s debut single “True Lover” (2019) must have had Martin Gore clutching his leather chaps in jealousy with its earworm fusion of boppy major-key synths and sadomasochistic subtext–a dynamic that’s effectively captured in the music video which itself matches the Mode for overall icy hotness.
Also not unlike Cristina, who recorded a clutch of memorable covers ranging from Prince’s “When U Were Mine” to the Beatles’ “Drive My Car” to Peggy Lee’s “Is That All There Is?” (the latter of which being one the greatest cover versions ever recorded in the history of humankind in the mind of this humble writer), Maraschino has likewise taken a shine to the art of the musical homage. To wit, this year she’s put out covers of both the Carly Simon/Chic collab “Why” as well as the aforementioned “Things Fall Apart.”
While technically a Christmas song, “Things Fall Apart” is one of those rare instances of a seasonal song that transcends its trappings–a tale of struggle and perseverance in the midst of poverty, perversion, romantic betrayal, tree murder, and motherly love. To her credit Maraschino pulls off a beautifully streamlined synthpop version of the song, capturing the melancholic yet oddly hopeful mood of the original (see the top of this page for the video) and Cristina’s finely-honed deadpan yet fully engaged vocal delivery:
The party was a huge success "But where should we go next?" they said They killed a tree of 97 years And smothered it in lights and silver tears They all got wrecked They laughed too loud I started to feel queasy in the crowd I caught a cab back to my flat And wept a bit And fed the cat
Most widely known from its inclusion on Cristina’s swan song Sleep It Off (1984), “Things Fall Apart” was first released on ZE Records’ 1981 LP A Christmas Record which also introduced the world to the Waitresses’ now perennial “Christmas Wrapping” (by far the most quasi-cheery song on the album). The Xmas comp didn’t shy away from the avant-pop experimentalism and No Wave severity that were ZE’s stock in trade (home to releases by James Chance and the Contortions, Suicide, Was (Not Was), and Lydia Lunch/Teenage Jesus and the Jerks among others) and has been called “the first alternative Christmas album” and “the darkest Christmas record of all time." So now you know where to go for one last dose of holiday weirdness this year. And should you go there (trivia alert!) you’ll also learn where Madonna found inspiration for the hook on her first hit single. (Jason Lee)
You better look out / you better decide
If Santa’s your man / or patriarchy must die
Lady Bits is coming to town
He stalks you when you’re sleeping
Gaslights and violates
He thinks he knows what’s bad or good
So be bad for goodness sake
You better look out / you better get wise
Cuz yr gonna find out / that being naughty is nice
Lady Bits is coming to town…
Lady Bits’ new single “Look Out” is out so give it a listen, grab a beer and have a happy new year. And for the stocking stuffer, check out their Lose The Thread EP below!
We all know that Mariah Carey is a lovely and talented woman but let’s face it if you hear her singing “All I Want For Christmas Is You” just one more time you may end up bashing in the head of the nearest reindeer with an oversized candy cane and no one wants that for Christmas. So, in the interest of concerned reindeer everywhere, we suggest that you scratch that XXXmas lust song itch with a new cover version of “All I Want” by Black Marble instead.
Replacing Mariah Carey’s whistle tone and Tony Mattola in a Santa suit with Casiotones, Korgs and a synthetic cowbell and sleigh bells disco groove–and a music video homage to Paul Simon’s "You Can Call Me Al"–is a stroke of genius and feels about right for Christmas: The 2020 Edition and plus it’s a perfect coda to Black Marble’s covers EP from earlier this year entitled I Must Be Living Twice(which is well worth checking out on it’s own merits–surely the first covers album ever to features songs by both Wire and Robert Palmer).
And if that’s not enough, and why should it be, you can also find “All I Want” on the hour-long Synthmas: A Holiday Special featuring performances from the likes of The Space Lady, Neon Indian, Mac DeMarco, Dam-Funk, Drugdealer and more, so many many more. Hosted by Maraschino and Jimmy Whispers–truly this generation’s Donnie & Marie Osmond–with an assist by a sardonic, chain-smoking magical talking Christmas tree, no one has seen holiday-themed musical numbers like these since Bea Arthur serenaded a giant extraterrestrial rat in the Star Wars Holiday Special and that’s been over 40 years ago. And yes, I mean that as a compliment so check it out or else you may find some coal in your fishnet stockings. And while you’re at it click those links and spread some holiday cheer to Save Our Stages and the Alexandria House. (Jason Lee)
People don’t often mention classic country and darkwave in the same breath but Tempers make me think of what would happen if Hank Williams and Patsy Cline were simultaneously reincarnated, went out and bought some modern-day gear and settled down in Brooklyn to write electro-tinged laments and darkwave floor-fillers. Electro-pop is the new honky-tonk after all.
Here’s a game to play called "Is This a Tempers Lyric or a Hank Williams Lyric"?
There’s a space in the night
where I tear a hole
the moon just went
behind the sky
to hide it’s face and cry
Trick question. It’s both. And speaking of both, Hank Williams and Tempers are both adept at taking inconvenient feelings like loneliness, heartbreak and longing and making something beautiful out of them, while each wisely throw some love songs and dance songs into the mix too because we can’t be So Lonesome We Could Cry all the time. A couple caveats to these parallel tracks: Hank Williams never made a concept album based on a German intellectual’s essay on shopping mall architecture and, to my knowledge, Patsy Cline wasn’t ethnically half-Iranian/half-Latvian and nor was she born in Florida and reared in England.
Tempers are the mixed-gender duo of Jasmine Golestaneh and Eddie Cooper and they started putting out singles together in 2013, with their first full-length arriving in 2015. The full-length in question is called Services and just this month they reissued the record on their current label Dais Records–seeing as the original was released on a German label (one factor in their sizeable European following) and only 500 copies pressed on vinyl. Vinyl festishist alert: the re-release can be had in clear vinyl, pink, marble smoke, or plain ol’ black plastic while supplies last.
In conjunction with the reissue, Tempers recorded an aching, acoustic self-cover of “Bright Over Me” the original of which is on Services. Besides this one the other track we got from the duo this year is “The Use of My Belonging.” A bedroom production released over the summer, it’s got a reflective vibe (“Well I didn’t see it coming / now I feel so out of place / what’s the use of my belonging”) written as it was in response to the Black Lives Matter protests and lockdown in the city. And while these two singles are certainly representative of the Year From Hell that somehow still isn’t over, I would submit that Tempers 2019 LP Private Life captures the stupefaction of late 2020 just as well as these other two releases. In fact, I’d go so far to name it the best album of 2020 released in 2019. Read on for further explanation.
Take a song like “Peace of Mind” which both in mood and in lyric captures a familiar experience, especially familiar this past year, that’s rarely addressed in song–namely just f*cking staring at these four walls–where isolation or boredom or insomnia or quarantine or whatever causes your mind to be both dulled and sharpened to the point where you pick up nearly every surrounding detail of your internal and external landscapes: “Lying in the bath, it’s half past three in the morning / this time alone, this time I know, is overrated / my hand’s a wave, my hand’s a tide, my hand’s a flood / picking up the light, water makes shadows on the wall / my hands a sky, my hand’s a bridge, my hand’s a home / this time alone, I’m feeling now, starting over.” But who actually writes a song about this? Brilliant.
Private Life opens with a song that’ll make your spine tingle if you’re inclined to such feelings. It’s called “Capital Pains” and its opening line is “It’s just a way of killing time” going on to describe a strange but seductive mashup of longing, regret, determination, desperation, voyeurism, and maybe even some hint of fulfillment. These divergent sentiments are mixed-and-matched by a musical backing of danceable electro-rhythms, vocals bathed in wraithlike echo, and occasional waves of double-picked/double-tracked electric guitar that envelop the listener. It’s hard to tell if this is supposed to be the sound of “peace of mind” or the start of the breakdown and maybe that’s precisely the point.
The next song is titled “Leonard Cohen Afterworld” (*ahem* so I can sign eternally *ahem*) and by now you see where this is heading. Taken as a whole Private Life nails the general aura of this current moment in time (including the title) to the extent that I’m convinced Jasmine and Eddie recorded it in 2020 and travelled back in time to 2019 to release the thing and give us all a coping mechanism to deal with the upcoming year. I mean just look at the song titles alone: “More Than You Realized,” “Guidance,” “Daydreams,” “Filters,” and “Sleep.” And the cover image. It’s all so very 2020. Given this evidence, you’d be advised to seek out Tempers’ music released next year to see what’s on the horizon for 2022. (Jason Lee)
It’s 2020 roundup time, whereupon we cast our music blogging net wide and pull in releases that didn’t make it into our annals as of yet.
Slut Magic are a fulsome foursome who make music for moderns, especially those of the sex-positive and queer-positive variety. Their music and image are chock full of good humor, man, beautifully boundary-crossing but still humanistic. With songs full of strum und twang, imagine Orville Peck for the punk rock set (and many other stylistic hybrids besides) and you’re getting warm. They once you actually hear them you’ll be getting pretty hot.
Following up on 2018’s debut LP In My Mouth the Slut Magic crew pulled out Trauma Queen earlier this year, a full-length musical insurrection made up of songs that run the spectrum from expressing empathy for victims of f*ckery (see the title track) to healthy doses of "just don’t give a f*ck"-ery (fave lines along these lines: “maybe it’s the DayQuil / but you look pretty good tonight”) to righteous howls of "f*ck this sh*t" (“God Is A Bad Dom”) which are all quite appropriate sentiments for this dumpster fire of a year.
Nearly as exciting as the release itself is the reveal that the band have made full-on music videos for each and every track — ranging from a first-generation PlayStation homage to a Christian broadcast TV montage to a choreographed rooftop assemblage (which rhymes if you say it right). So head on over to the band’s SlutTube and Slutcamp sites and take their full load of content right into your earholes and eyeholes. (Jason Lee)
