Dear Blog,

Ever since I started college I’ve really been neglecting you. I’m sorry, but this just isn’t working out anymore. Sure, we had some great times this summer, but I can’t quite keep this up, I’m moving onto something a little different. I hope you don’t feel too bad, just remember that you will always be my first. 

With Love, Zaniar.

Julia Holter | Try To Make Yourself A Work Of Art from Leaving Records on Vimeo.

Please read Hippolytus while listening to this.

Donald Glover aka Childish Gambino and I at a party after Bruin Bash.

St. Vincent’s new album is wonderful amazing.

I am convinced that Arrested Development is, without any reasonable doubt, the greatest show there has ever been. 

So when singer-songwriter St. Vincent, in an interview said, “My favorite TV show right now and for all time is Arrested Development,” “It’s the best thing that ever happened to television,” and “I named my album after it,” I knew that she would be a very interesting artist to look into.

Recently featured on the cover of both Spin and Under the Radar, St. Vincent’s upcoming album, Strange Mercy, which will be released on the 13th of September, is turning out to be one of the most anticipated albums of the year. Lets just hope that it lives up to our expectations.

So far, we have two songs from the album:

1. “Surgeon”: A track filled with subtle sexuality, starts out with beautiful vocal work and slowly morphs into an anxiety ridden melodic roller coaster. A pure joy to listen to. Listen Below:

2. “Cruel”: Personally, I found this song to be rather mundane, but I loved the music video that was released alongside it which consists of St. Vincent being abducted, tied up, and literally buried alive by her family. These scenes are juxtaposed with very comedic scenes of her family quietly disapproving of the smallest errors she makes as a housewife (think of these as scenes of her being metaphorically buried by her family.) I wonder what motivated her to make this video; as far as I know, she isn’t even married; is this her greatest fear? To be abducted by some man and end up living the life of a housewife? Or is this a tribute to all of the housewives in the world who feel like they are being buried alive by their family’s silly expectations? Here it is below:

Prior to adopting the stage name of St. Vincent, Annie Clark was a member of The Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens’ touring band. She gathered a cult following with Marry Me and Actor, two albums that redefined what a contemporary indie singer-songwriter is capable of. Today though, she’s on the verge of “crossing over.”

But there’s more to Annie Clark than her music alone; she’s interesting, sophisticated, and complex. She carries herself with grace and an air of classic beauty that goes beyond her picturesque wide eyes and sharp facial features.  

In the most recent issue of Spin where Julie Klausner and Annie Clark discuss identity, gender roles, sexuality, societal structure, and patriarchy. Clark comes off as well read, sophisticated, and even aware of her own pretensions. Klausner, having clearly fallen fallen in love with Clark’s charming personality, writes that “Annie Clark is so porous and intuitive that her sensitivity is comparable only to her talent and commitment.” And leaves us with an endearing image of Clark as “a tiny silhouette in the distance. Her silk shirt and skirt [billowing] in the hot breeze.”

A good friend of mine asked if I could review Portugal. The Man’s latest album. My friend, I must apologize for my honesty and the review’s lack of quality.

When I was much younger, and still acquired the majority of my music from radio stations playing major label artists, I thought Linkin Park was one of the most brilliant bands. For those who justified their personal tastes with value judgements regarding an artist’s vocal capacity, lyrics, and musical virtuosity, Linkin Park’s case was not too difficult to justify. Looking back, I realize that Linkin Park’s popularity stemmed from their marketability toward those who enjoyed their musically mixed nature - an alternative metal foundation mixed with elements of rap and hip hop (see Hybrid Theory) which later transitioned into the emerging cultural fads of “emo” and “scene.” (see Minutes to Midnight) Just as Q Magazine wrote of Linkin Park’s album Meteora, it was ”less an artistic endeavor than an exercise in target marketing.”

With seven full studio albums and five extended plays in just under 8 years, Portugal. The Man is, relative to their musical peers, one of the most prolific bands around. And of course, with any band that spits out so many albums so often, there’s bound to be a jewel somewhere among the piles of repetitive fluff. Sifting through Portugal. The Man’s work, though, is a bit different. Portugal is an interesting case of a band that successfully developed a marketable sound, garnered some interest with a major label, and then released an album that, for those who justify their musical tastes with value judgments, is an easy case to justify. I can just hear it now, “The lyrics are so deep… the guitar is so… the drums… his vo-“ 

But the truth is that In The Mountain In The Cloud is a standard intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, chorus album that takes no risks. And so, if you enjoy that, then there’s not much to criticize. While moments within certain songs such as “Once was One” have the capacity to captivate anyone with their psych-pop wonder, they generally become overtaken by Portugal’s mundane rock anthem tendencies. It is a disappointment that the only redeeming song of the album, “Sleep Forever,” is placed at the end - too late to save the album, which, as a whole, lacks variety and vision.

When “Go Outside” first came out more than a year ago, I didn’t even bother to write them down on my list of bands to follow. Yes, I did enjoy the heavy reverb, delicate xylophone, and sing-along feel, but as far as internet hits go, this was just another one of them.

Two weeks ago, the above video, from director Isaiah Seret (other videos include Devendra Benhart -Foolin) made me think twice about having passed them off so quickly. The video unified the band’s concept with actual content. Go Outside’s inclusion of lines from Jim Jones finally felt less like a pretentious embellishment and more like an artistic message. I felt obliged to give the album a few more spins, and the romantic duo, another look.

Cults is Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion. They dress in all black and make really upbeat pop music. They like Giny Arnel, Yuck, and Timber Timbre, but don’t really get James Blake. They just dropped out of NYU and are working on a rap mixtape. At their best, they are brilliant, but at just over half an hour, often overly simplistic, and with lyrics like these: “Oh my god, I’m stuck inside the same position/I’m so tired of sitting around here with my boring life,” Cults (the self titled album) feels rushed and lacks substance.

It all leads me to wonder if they’re just another buzz band… I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Play this amazingly soothing crap while you read:

Like most people, I can’t remember the first time I heard any one major genre of music. I can’t remember the first time I heard someone rapping, or the first guitar solo, or even the first pop tune. But for some of the more specific genres, I distinctly remember the firsts.

I can remember that first kiss with Jazz in the back seat of a family friend’s car. I was 8 years old and I had the strange notion that i should be enjoying it, but it was years before I was be capable of experiencing its true pleasures.

I even remember my embarrassing fling with Heavy Metal in middle school. How drawn I was to the dark eyes, long hair, and black clothes… to the epic glory of the soaring guitar and the racing drums. Looking back, I’m sure glad I didn’t go too far with that one…

And among the hundreds of minor encounters, I remember courting Opera, flirting with Folk, and spending a few warm summer nights with Surf Rock. 

My most memorable encounter, though, has been with Ambient Music. Since my first listen, I’ve developed a very problematic, on and off relationship with it.

The first truly ambient album I listened to had been Brian Eno’s Ambient 1: Music for Airports. I picked it up after having read a glowing review in which a critic had more or less agreed with the claim that Brian Eno had invented ambient music.

Invented ambient music?

“How in the world is that possible?” I thought to myself.

I was very familiar with the meaning of the word. Even in musical terms, I knew that ambience was a characteristic of music. It was something mostly unidentifiable that was there in varying degrees. Some songs are more ambient than others, just as some songs are more melodic or rhythmic. The term “Ambient Music,” at the time, made as much sense as someone saying “Melodic Music.”

I began listening to contemporary ambient works, but I just didn’t get it. It was a genre far too limited in scope and capability. It was unable to portray the unspeakable mass of emotional subtleties that other genres where all perfectly capable of expressing. And some of it so blatantly limited the listening experience that it required active listeners to sit down in a quiet place and even close their eyes. 

You’re so demanding!

Soon I discovered that there were hundreds of artists who just worked on ambient music. And this led me to wonder if there were people who just listened to nothing else all day, and told their friends about some really progressive new artist who was pushing ambience in “all the right directions.” Did these people go to ambient concerts? Was there even such a thing? What would they do there? Sit quietly? Lie on the floor? Trip out? 

For a good while, I really hated you.

But I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed listening to it every now and then. And much of Eno’s work, in particular, was absolutely brilliant. Eno describes one of the vocal pieces from Ambient 1:
 

One of the notes repeats every 23 seconds. It is, in fact, a long loop running around a series of tubular aluminum chairs in Conny Plank’s studio. The next lowest loop repeats every 25 seconds or something like that. The third one every 29 seconds or something. What I mean is they all repeat in cycles that are called incommensurable — they are not likely to come back into sync again. Your experience of the piece, of course, is a moment in time, there. So as the piece progresses, what you hear are the various clusterings and configurations of these six basic elements. The basic elements in that particular piece never change. They stay the same. But the piece does appear to have quite a lot of variety. 

And once I really got to know you, I began to understand you.

With further reading, I realized that Eno hadn’t “invented” the form per se, he had merely given a name to a musical form he was experimenting with, just as minimalists had done.The name simply emphasized the music’s main characteristics for which he had laid out a goal, a purpose, and a definition that future artists to make use of. Particularly, that definition had been music “designed to induce calm and space to think.” It was music that could complement its surroundings or heighten the experience without being intrusive or demanding. Or as Brian Eno said, it could be either “actively listened to with attention or as easily ignored.”

By now, I had fallen in love, and before I knew it, we were doing everything together: studying, reading, walking in the park, watching the sunset, and we… we even slept together a few times.

But the fact that ambient music had a use that was separate from merely existing as an art piece, or for the sake of expressing some message a musician hoped to express, or capturing the breadth of the human experience, or for whatever other reason that most non-commercialized music exists, bothered me. Ambient music’s purpose had cheapened it to the level of ninety nine cent discs of “relaxation music.” Purpose was antithetical to the very idea of music, and sometimes, frankly,  I couldn’t tell if I was just listening to a few bass notes and some clinks here and there or if I was listening to carfully composed masterpieces. 

I hated how elusive and unsatisfying you were at times. It was like I couldn’t do anything I wanted to with you anymore! You were never up for a morning jog, you were never there at any of my celebrations, and you hated to dance! 

As each encounter’s romantic fire dies, I am left with a clear understanding of the genre’s scope and capabilities, an ability to appreciate its qualities when appropriate, and of course, friendly boundaries. And just as I eventually realized that Gangsta Rap’s lyrics didn’t apply to my relatively perfect life, I eventually got over the fact that ambient music had a purpose.

So of course, you may still find me, lying down, eyes closed, and playing OOBE in the dead of night… falling in and out of love again and again.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean all those terrible things I said about you…