Fluxblog Weekly #62: Jay Som, Melkbelly, Pip Blom, Margaret Glaspy
June 27th, 2016
Shake When The Lights Go Off
Jay Som “I Think You’re Alright”
“I Think You’re Alright” stars off in a way that does not signal in any way that a good guitar solo will come later on, and when it does come it’s slightly startling even after hearing it a few times over. It feels small and intimate in a way that doesn’t often result in wordless catharsis, but the decision to switch gears like that at the end is satisfying and refreshing. It also feels right as the aftermath of lyrics that express great affection for someone, but seems to be dialing things back every step of the way to avoid sappiness and vulnerability. She’s laying out a fantasy of love and intimacy, but it’s full of fucked-up bits, and the “I love you” is downgraded to “I think you’re alright.” That solo lets loose all the buried feelings. It’s not especially graceful, but it’s exactly right. If only we could just blurt out wordless feelings in regular life, right?
Buy it from Bandcamp.
June 28th, 2016
The Boy With The Square Eyes
Melkbelly “Elk Mountain”
Melkbelly is remarkably fully formed for a band with only a couple singles out: a very defined guitar aesthetic; good melodies; a strong sense of urgency in everything they’ve produced. Guitar parts in Melkbelly songs are constantly moving – snaking around the beat, scraping against the groove, making hairpin turns just after you’ve settled into a rhythm. “Elk Mountain” does all of those things and more in four minutes, setting up a tension at odds with the vocal, which is basically a one-sided stoned conversation with some weirdo kid named Rusty. The details of the lyrics are surreal and unsettling, but sorta deadpan and matter-of-fact. By the end, she’s singing in this soft wordless angelic tone, and it’s hard to remember exactly how you got there because everything else went by in a blur.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
June 29th, 2016
A Little More Like You
Pip Blom “Truth”
There’s a part of my brain that hears Pip Blom’s songs and starts running a scan of my memory to figure out where I’ve heard her rhythms and chord progressions before. It’s all Alt-Rock 101 stuff, so it’s like — is that “Polly”? is that “Song 2”? is that some PJ Harvey thing? But this doesn’t get in the way of Blom’s songs, which all have immediate earworm hooks that benefit greatly from the blunt force of these simple chords. There’s a physicality to this music that you get from all the best ‘90s rock – she makes you feel the gestures and movements of playing the guitar, the impact of a snare hit, the raw sensation in your throat you get from using your voice the “wrong” way. She puts you right inside the anxiety of the song, and keeps her language as blunt as the rhythm so all the lust, confusion, self-doubt, and resentment in the lyrics are delivered to you entirely undiluted.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
June 30th, 2016
Don’t You Dare Pity Me
Margaret Glaspy “Situation”
It feels strange that I haven’t heard more songs about resenting unsolicited advice in all these years. Margaret Glaspy’s guitar parts in “Situation” are wiry and tense, and seem to tangle around the melody like string becoming a knot. She doesn’t sing so much as spit out her words, and the lines are blunt, confrontational, and completely unambiguous: “You don’t know my situation / we’ve had at most one conversation / you haven’t got a clue / so don’t tell me what to do.” It’s a perfect little dagger of a song aimed at the neck of some condescending even if potentially well-meaning person who doesn’t have the self-awareness to realize how insulting they’re being. When I hear it, I wonder how often I’ve been that person, and feel guilty for it. I can’t imagine what this song must feel like for the person Glaspy wrote it about. You just know they’ve heard it and felt the sting of recognition, right?
Buy it from Amazon.