Fluxblog 417: JACK ANTONOFF UNIVERSE
Plus new music by King Krule, Whyte Fang, The Scary Jokes, and Little Dragon, and old music by Michael McDonald
This week’s playlist is JACK ANTONOFF UNIVERSE, a career retrospective to date for one of the most successful songwriter/producers of the Millennial cohort. This set follows his path chronologically through his work as part of the bands Steel Train, fun., and Bleachers, alongside his collaborations with Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, Lorde, St. Vincent, Carly Rae Jepsen, Sia, P!nk, The Chicks, Kevin Abstract, and many more. This one is fascinating to me in getting a sense of his strengths and weaknesses, and how he elevates some artists just as he’s elevated by others. [Spotify | Apple | YouTube]
Here’s the track listing…
I interviewed AC Newman of The New Pornographers about his songwriting and arrangement process and working with Neko Case through the years, it’s posted as a podcast to the Fluxblog Patreon now. Go check it out!
Fist In The Drywall
The Scary Jokes “Uzumaki”
“Uzumaki” is a song set in awkward stage of a break up when it’s clear that things are getting close to ending but there’s still some good will and kind feelings in the mix to keep things from tipping fully into acrimony. The song does get there, but on a swirling tangental path. There’s only a matter of seconds between Liz Lehman singing “all I want to do is be your friend” and “God, I hope I never see you again” and as the song shifts into its finale she’s settling into chanting “no forgiveness” and embracing her rage. The arrangement reminds me a bit of the more recent No Joy material in the way Lehman harmonizes with herself over a very late 90s beat and riff combination. The distorted guitar has a nice ambiguity to it – a little aggressive, a little cathartic, but mostly signaling exasperated frustration.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
Smile Without Concern
King Krule “Seaforth”
I like how Archy Marshall’s lyrics often grasp at romanticism while grounded in a dingy reality of blank walls, low ceilings, bad lighting, train stations, mini-markets, and other assorted liminal spaces. He’s always yearning for something transcendent and seeking it out anywhere he can, and finding it in the bleak or mundane only makes the feeling more profound. “Seaforth,” named for a largely derelict waterfront in England, is one of Marshall’s lightest and most relaxed songs. It’s a breezy jangle-pop song that trades sunny clear skies for a more overcast vibe, perfectly evoking the sort of spring or summer day when the weather is technically nice out but the light is so grey it puts a damper on your energy. The dazed, languid feeling suits the sentiment of the song, in which Marshall reflects on small moments of love and connection in the midst of a “world that falls apart.” Their love is more precious for serving as an anchor amidst chaos and decay, it’s basically “I Melt With You” for a world that’s already halfway melted. At its core, it’s a song about how love and connection make material conditions bearable, or even something to be ignored in the background while you engage with something that makes you feel truly alive.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
Endless Ecstasy Craving
Little Dragon “Slugs of Love”
I like the lyrical idea of writing about a search for love, lust, and joy and having it personified by slugs, a humble and kinda gross creature that it’s hard for humans to relate to in terms of biology. It’s easy to imagine being a dog, a cat, a monkey, or a bird, but a slug? There’s not a lot of shared attributes there. But in the context of this song focusing on the humble and the gross is part of the idea, to bring it down to earth so much that you’re just this slimy thing crawling around, devoid of any majesty or grandeur. But that’s the freedom of being weird and silly, right? It’s a very childlike and playful song, one that bounces on a punky groove and adds a little bit of dubby echo to bits of the vocal for a little style and spice.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
Not Just Dreaming
Whyte Fang “Deep End”
“Deep End” basically sounds like it should be a heavy dance remix of an Adele hit that’s never come out, a banger-ballad hybrid with serious vocal firepower. Whyte Fang is another name for the Australian musician better known as Alison Wonderland, an artist who has typically placed the emphasis of her work on DJing and production with the vocal aspect of things not necessarily downplayed, but not exactly foregrounded either. Which is kinda funny when you consider how few star EDM DJs can credibly serve as their own house diva. “Deep End” is a dynamic and incredibly earnest song about trying to live to your fullest potential, it’s all sung as though “becoming what I want to be” is a life or death circumstance, which it often is. That do-or-die intensity is what pushes this song from good to great – if this was merely “inspirational” it would feel more narcissistic and less dramatic.
Buy it from Amazon.
I’ve been listening to this Michael McDonald song a lot lately and remembered that I wrote a post I like about it back in July 2021. Here it is, just for fun!
The Light Of Tomorrow Is Right Where We Are
Michael McDonald “Sweet Freedom”
“Sweet Freedom” requires a contemporary listener to surrender to the extreme ‘80s-ness of it all. Even relative to the most egregiously corny ‘80s pop this song is a bit extra with its relentlessly perky funk and a recording style so precise and heavily synthesized that the percussion, bass, and keyboard tones all sound rather uncanny. The song was composed by English songwriter Rod Temperton – if you don’t know his name you’ve certainly heard his music as he’s the sole writer of the Michael Jackson classics “Rock with You” and “Thriller” among other late ’70s to mid ‘80s post-disco hits – and everything about the track is basically the Temperton aesthetic pushed to an auteurist extreme.
“Sweet Freedom” is basically a crew of studio ringers executing Temperton’s musical ideas, unfettered by the creative whims of a client artist. The track is dense with intersecting rhythms and melodies without feeling too heavy, and Temperton is so effective at directing your attention to the lead melodies that more the more rhythmic keyboard elements like the galloping chords on the chorus can feel relatively subtle in the mix. The song wasn’t written specifically for Michael McDonald but it’s hard to imagine it being better with anyone else at the center as he matches the track’s odd blend of primary color boldness and easy-going breeziness. Who else can seem to bellow like a grizzly bear but make it feel like a whisper?
Temperton was such a genius of funk and composition that his lyrics can seem purely functional, accessible and inoffensive phrases that simply carry the melody. But as I’ve obsessively listened to “Sweet Freedom” over and over in the recent past I’ve inevitably paid more attention to what McDonald is actually singing and I can’t help but imagine it as the ramblings of a very earnest guy who has just done enough cocaine to feel like he’s grooving on some deeper truths and clicking into some new, vague ambition. The whole song exists in the moment of epiphany – inspirational and aspirational, but also irrational. It’s a moment of intense self-belief and optimism extended, amplified, and frozen in time. McDonald sings “there’s no turning back from what I’m feeling,” and while he very well might come down from that feeling within an hour, he sings it like there’s no chance he could be wrong.
Buy it from Amazon.
LINKS LINKS LINKS LINKS LINKS
• Andy Greene at Rolling Stone published a terrific interview with Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins that really gets into how much he’s changed over the years and has let go of a lot of the anxieties and attitudes that have spoiled his reputation over the past 30 years. Corgan is very thoughtful in this conversation and honestly I find this very inspiring.
• Also at Rolling Stone, EJ Dickson wrote about the perverse girlboss worship of Sarah Snook’s character Shiv Roy from Succession.
• Molly O’Brien wrote about going to see Bruce Springsteen in Brooklyn with a crowd that was apparently even more white than a U2 gig.