Fluxblog #283: Pop 02-07 + Obscure Indie 04-07 Playlists | Suuns • Sault • Oh Sees • Bonobo/TEED
Two new playlists this week, both exploring the 2000s and the different facets of Fluxblog in that era.
The Other Pop 2002-2007
This set explores pop-as-genre in the wilderness years prior to the arrival of Katy Perry and Lady Gaga and before artists like Robyn and Carly Rae Jepsen became mainstream cult stars. It's mostly songs that were actually big hits in Europe, but were things you'd have to seek out if you were a fan of this sort of music in the United States. It's a situation that created a new type of pop fandom, but the people who engage in that fandom today tend not to actually know this music.
[Apple | Spotify]
Lost '00s: Excellent Obscurities 2004-2007
This is a collection of indie music that was all featured on Fluxblog in this era, but either never caught on in any meaningful way or is generally forgotten today. It's a lot of music that's very dear to me, a real treasure trove of songs that woulda coulda shoulda been beloved hits. But you know what? It's never too late. Pass this one on if you like it.
[Apple | Spotify]
And now the regular posts...
September 21st, 2020 4:28pm
You Forgot Me
Suuns “Pray”
“Pray” is the type of song that’s built like a ride, like you’re moving around a rollercoaster, gradually gaining momentum and being brought up to a peak so you can have the experience of suddenly dropping down. In this song, it’s all about building up tension until you finally hit the 3:15 mark and a screeching solo kicks in. It doesn’t fully register as music – it’s more this extremely loud and cathartic sound that rips through the composition. It’s strange how this shrill, shrieking metallic sound can alleviate the tension while sounding like something that should actually make you feel more tense. I think it’s that it gives you this satisfaction of destruction, like this place you’ve just escaped is now being burned to the ground.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 22nd, 2020
Don’t Need A Hero Anyway
Sault “Free”
Sault’s second album this year is directly inspired by Black Lives Matter activism, but as much as the lyrics feel very of-the-moment, there’s not much said on the record that couldn’t have been said at any time in the past few decades or probably also the decades to come. Even a track like “You Know I Ain’t,” which specifically mocks the dubious surface-level support of white people in terms that feel particular to 2020, is still pretty much evergreen. A similar theme is explored in the lyrics of “Free,” which questions the arrival of supposed saviors a bit too late to change much of anything. The implication in both songs is that while support and awareness is appreciated to various degrees, the strength that developed in the absence of that has become more important and reliable. Whereas “You Know I Ain’t” is snarky, “Free” is more gracious and overtly spiritual – and not simply for invoking God’s love in the chorus. As the music shifts from breakbeat funk to an up-tempo gospel feel, it feels like ascending towards a more “galaxy brain” state of mind and perspective.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 23rd, 2020
A Gruesome Tale One Text At A Time
Thee Oh Sees (Osees) “Red Study”
“Red Study” has a sinister but playful groove, bouncing along on a bass line that’s quite perky but also sort of unbalanced and seasick. John Dwyer runs with this vibe in the lyrics by singing from the perspective of a modern trickster figure who openly tells you that he will lie to you and ruin your life, and you’re left to wonder whether that’s just another one of his lies. (It’s not.) It’s not hard to get why Dwyer would write this song now – if anything, the tricky part is figuring out which demonic presences in culture preying on rubes specifically inspired this song. It could be anything, but this one feels particular to Q for me.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 24th, 2020
You Leaving Me Again
Bonobo & Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs “Heartbreak”
“Heartbreak” pulls its vocal hook from Class Action’s “Weekend,” a classic from the early ’80s NYC club scene that’s probably best known now as a remix by Larry Levan. Bonobo and TEED use an odd bit of the song – half of the first line of the first verse – so its relationship with that song is more abstract, like it’s a talisman or some ingredient for a spell to conjure up the spirit of this era long before most anyone that would be at a club today was born. The music itself is more rooted in ’90s house music, with its fast breakbeats and constant push towards ecstatic heights. It’s built to be a highly efficient jolt of energy and joy, and even if it’s being released a time when dancing in public is more or less forbidden around the world the emotional and physical effect of it is very welcome.
Buy it from Bandcamp.