Fluxblog Weekly #68: Wild Beasts, Britney Spears, Tennis, Thee Oh Sees + Belly
August 8th, 2016
I Will Not Hold You Back
Wild Beasts “Alpha Female”
The major through line of the Wild Beasts discography has been Hayden Thorpe and Tom Fleming’s deeply conflicted relationship with masculinity – their own, mostly, but also in broader terms. Sometimes it’s a critique, and other times it’s a celebration. Thorpe’s early vocal performances would toggle dramatically between masculine and feminine extremes, as if different parts of himself were struggling for dominance, which would sit in contrast with performances by Fleming that exaggerated his handsome, deeper voice to the point of sounding like he was playing a knight in shining armor type.
Wild Beasts were becoming steadily more subtle, cerebral, and sedate over their past two albums, but have abruptly shifted gears with Boy King, their fifth record. They’ve eliminated all subtlety and delicacy in favor of thrusting, throbbing electronic grooves and lyrics that directly state much of what had been gently implied in their words on the past four records. I appreciate the blunt approach, though I don’t think a lot of this record stacks up with their best work. That said, they do sound liberated and reinvigorated, and that confident energy makes a song like “Alpha Female” much more powerful. I mean, would a song declaring admiration for and subservience to a powerful woman be as potent if the guys performing didn’t sound like strutting, virile rockers? The song is making an important point: Giving power to women does nothing to diminish the masculinity of men.
Buy it from Amazon.
August 9th, 2016
Dripping In Smiles
Britney Spears “Private Show”
Britney Spears has been mainly singing like a horny cyborg for nearly a decade, a move that originated in necessity circa her public breakdown album Blackout but has persisted as an aesthetic choice ever since. It suits the sort of electro pop that she’s focused on over the years, and can be read as a commentary on the public perception of her as a zonked-out yet hypersexualized person who has lived most of her life as a heavily mediated product. Less charitable people would say that it makes up for her limitations as a vocalist, but I think “Private Show” ruins that argument. Her voice is processed but she’s singing the hell out of the song, and veering into an adventurous R&B space that has more to do with Beyoncé/Destiny’s Child or TLC than anything Max Martin has ever done. The lyrics aren’t especially noteworthy – it’s basically her singing about doing stripper moves for her dude, which seems like exactly what you’d expect of her even if she’s never done it before. But the track, which is produced by T-Pain protégé Young Fyre, is exceedingly slinky and falls in the same odd zone between classic soul and clipped robotic pop as her vocal performance. It’s traditional but slightly off, and makes something that might otherwise seem a bit trashy sound genuinely sweet and wholesome.
Buy it from Amazon.
August 10th, 2016
Maybe We Can Play Pretend
Tennis “Ladies Don’t Play Guitar”
I’ve never had a grasp on Tennis’ identity as a band. I’m not totally sure if they do either. They definitely have an aesthetic – very clean and glossy, but also refined and not particularly flashy – but their personality is rather vague and seems to shift with whatever their inspiration happens to be in the moment. This is a good moment for them, though. “Ladies Don’t Play Guitar” has a sexy but understated late ‘80s/early ’90s groove – think “Justify My Love” by Madonna or “Back to Life” by Soul II Soul – and lyrics that are considerably more pointed and direct than you’d expect from a typically quite mellow and agreeable act. Alaina Moore’s vocal part isn’t particularly aggressive, but it’s clear that she’s pushing back against a lot of aggravating assumptions in her own way, and probably also challenging herself to say a bit more with her music. This is certainly the best song I’ve heard by them, so it’s a move in the right direction as far as I’m concerned.
Buy it from Amazon.
August 11th, 2016
How Much I Don’t Need You
Thee Oh Sees “The Axis”
Let’s skip ahead in this song and focus on the ending, in which John Dwyer plays a guitar solo that starts off as compelling yet fairly standard shredding, but gradually shifts until it sounds like the notes are literally shredding. It’s a beautifully ugly sound, and it’s the perfect, magnificently cathartic conclusion to a song in which he spends a lot of time moaning questions like “don’t you know how much I don’t love?” in an uncharacteristically inert voice. You don’t really ask a question like that if it’s not at least somewhat untrue, and that guitar bit at the end is like him saying “You know what? I do love you, but fuck that and fuck you –– I’m outta here!” and slamming the door behind him.
Buy it from Amazon.
BONUS!
I saw Belly on Wednesday night, and it was very good. I don't have much to say about it other than that it's just really nice to see another beloved female-fronted band from the '90s come back and get a lot of love after many years of being led to assume they weren't as big a deal as they actually were because the record industry and critics of their era were biased against them after 1995 or so. Tanya Donnelly and Belly deserve a lot of credit, and have a lot of great songs. Here's something I wrote about one of them, "Puberty," a few months ago.
March 2nd, 2016
Covered In Honey, Showered In Beer
Belly “Puberty”
I have long associated the sound of this sound with the beginning of spring, and the first warmish, sunny days after weeks of winter greyness. The days when you see a lot of people willing the day into actual summer, and running around dressed like it’s the middle of July. There’s a sunny sound to “Puberty,” particularly in the chords and wordless vocal melodies, but there’s a slight chill to it too, and the rhythm at the start sounds slightly tentative, like the song is peeking out and looking for permission to gallop and strut.
Tanya Donnelly’s voice is what really makes this song, though. I love the way she sounds hopeful and a little coy on the verses, like she’s heading into some unknown situation with cautious optimism. I suppose that’s why it’s called “Puberty” – it’s the cusp of adulthood, and that all seems great except for everything that’s awkward and weird, which is a majority of it. The lyrics on the chorus and bridge are cryptic but lovely, with Donnelly imagines having deliberate control over some magical light. The contrast is clever – the rest of the song is about feeling uncertain, and the part that’s most emphatic is about imagining agency, power, and meaning.
Buy it from Amazon.