Spectreview 2/18/19 – Florida Georgia Line, Ladytron, Hello Meteor, BLOOD RELATIVES

For a guide to the color rating system, click here.

Welcome for Spectreview! Boy have we got some treats for you. Maybe. Here’s the review roundup for the week of 2/18/19:

-MAROON-

No, Tyler Hubbard and Brian Kelley, despite your roguish claims we can absolutely say that you aren’t country. Or rather, we can say that the genre of country is ill represented by your auto-pitched vocal fifths and caricatured tales of rural living. We are now almost 25 years since Shania Twain kicked a hole in the ol’ barn door of yore, and what was once the arena of humble folkish giants is now firmly aligned with the outdoor patio heaters of your local big-city barbecue joint, the one with the $30 truffle-oil mac-and-cheese. Country as a industry enterprise has done phenomenally well for itself since it mutated into its modern pop variation, but barring some actual talent (e.g. Kacey Musgraves’ resplendent Golden Hour) the vast majority of modern country pop is like frozen mozzerella sticks: brainless, phallic, stuffed with cheese and sold to the masses. There’s a reason “I like everything but country” has become a parodied mantra for music lovers.

Florida Georgia Line have been decried as cardinal sinners of old country, being too blatantly image-focused and too processed to sell the folksiness of their songs’ subject matter: Johnny Cashs they are not (Johnny Cashing In? ah well). The two bros are all winks and grunts, distilled obnoxious masculinity, the kind of fantasy with a close cousin (ironically) in gay porn. Can’t Say I Ain’t Country has some levity and a playful sense about it; it’s supposed to be dumb fun, so in that sense it works fine. It’s also produced clean as a whistle. But a lot of these songs have been done many times before, and that’s the pigskin kicker. When Tyler drawls about coercive sex (“Talk You Out Of It”) or rattles off every cliche in the bro country songbook (“Sittin’ Pretty”) or sings, seemingly, about nothing (“Colorado”) it starts to melt together because it’s all so tired. Against that monotonous backdrop there are some pleasant surprises: the call for unity that is “People Are Different” comes out of nowhere and is certainly welcome, and in “Y’all Boys” the two actually come off as…funny? At least, I chuckled at the line about not having a buddy named Buddy. But on the whole nothing’s really different, it’s just pap. Hey, if you’re in the mood, strap on your cowboy boots and slide your blue jeans over your white briefs and pour yourself a glass of Maker’s and reach into your pants and grab your erection and wait what?

Not recommended (except for sentient short shorts and pickup trucks.)

-SPRING GREEN-

Ladytron’s been around forever, and almost two decades into their career they’re back with a collection of lurching, doomsaying electropop numbers. These songs don’t let up; it’s a wall of sound built on low-end frequencies, saw-tooth waves and shuddering 4/4 drums. As far as pop goes it’s fairly unsettling, like an old John Carpenter soundtrack desecrated by greasy fingerprints. No doubt the recent national attention toward climate change has influenced the foursome towards crafting an image evoking mankind’s inevitable descent into mass extinction. Vocalist Helen Marnie’s voice is starting to show its age at this point, but she solidly delivers her prophecies with the flatlined robotic candor representative of a band called Ladytron.

Recommended for people who compulsively watch The Weather Channel.

-RED-

Hello Meteor’s music evokes nature, but the kind of nature you see in old motivational posters. His approach to dreamwave combines Harold Budd’s new age rumination with the bougie glistening angles of 80’s Japanese city pop. Dusk Aquarium continues on the motifs he explored on last year’s Mu and Mea, this time replacing earth with water, time-worn hills for oceans and beaches. Much of that change is merely surface-level, but there are subtle yet noticeable advancements in craft. Nothing in his oeuvre seems as throughly propulsive as “Coral Blush” or as sweetly purposeful as “The Black Sphere,” and the slight improvement in production value helps. It’s an enjoyable listen throughout, even if at times it becomes easy to disengage and slip away into nullity (in a way, job well done).

Recommended for long car trips along the coast.

LOCAL SHOWCASE

-NAVY BLUE-

The term “power electronics” sounds somewhat innocuous until you hear it: distorted, disorienting electric currents, like a live wire connected to your brain, cut up and panned for maximum effectiveness. If there are vocals, they are usually intentionally hateful or violent, though not always for the sake of being hateful or violent. BLOOD RELATIVE’s origins are unknown, which makes assessing an album comprised solely of sharp disquieting frequencies and harrowing excerpts from Seattle’s homeless population rather difficult. DISPOSSESSION, for its abrasiveness, is an accomplished listen for those already used to industrial’s metal clamor. The final track, “Lights Out (Sanctuary Means No Enforcement)” is particularly effective, building tension from a steady hi-hat gallop and light wisps of bitcrushed audio as opposed to the full-frontal assault of the album’s A-side tracks.

The intention according to the bio was to evoke the unique horrors of living on the street, where one is robbed of safety and hope. Yet how much of this project is elucidative, and how much is blatantly exploitative? The problem, I believe, lies in the vocals. Procuring your samples from helpless, mentally unstable people who are incapable of providing lucid consent for their work is in its own class of perverted ethics. Hopefully the proceeds from the album’s cassette sales (these cassettes, by the way, each contain a “pinch of dirt from the ‘Jungle’, which was Seattle’s largest homeless encampment”) goes to a shelter or charity, instead of into the pockets of an artist intending to benefit directly from the less fortunate.

Recommended for people who pretend they don’t have any cash on them.
(Also, not recommended).

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