Twenty-six songs this month, running 107 minutes if you play them all through, and that’s after I cut a half-dozen tracks that would have pushed it past two hours. There are a few welcome returns here from old favorites as well as artists I just discovered myself, some of which are new to me and some just new, period. You can access the Spotify playlist here if you can’t see the widget below.
Death Cab for Cutie – Gold Rush. Ben Gibbard’s best song since … “You Are a Tourist?” Something off Narrow Stairs? I’m pleasantly surprised after Kintsugi felt like a holding pattern, this song has a clear, strong melody, and the repetition of the song’s title gives the music a vertiginous quality that keeps me a little off balance every time I listen to it.
Joy Oladokun – Sober. There’s almost nothing available about Oladokun, who calls herself a “soul singer from L.A.” and has released four songs to date but no album or EP. I’m calling it right now that someone will compare her to Tracy Chapman, for obvious if unfortunate reasons. She’s here because the chorus of this song is among the most memorable earworms I’ve heard this year and I think her voice, both literal and figurative, is incredibly distinctive.
HAERTS – New Compassion. HAERTS’ debut album came out in 2014, and since then we’ve had a handful of isolated singles, only one of which (“Animal”) was really up to the standard of their first full-length, so this powerful showcase of lead singer Nini Fabi’s voice is a welcome return for the group, now just a duo after two members left in 2015.
Stars – One Day Left. It’ll be hard for Stars to top their 2012 song “Hold On When You Get Love and Let Go When You Get It” for me, but this is their best song since then.
ZURICH – My Protocol. A big, bombastic vocal over a raw Matthew Sweet-esque guitar riff. I imagine the singer preening around the stage while he sings this even as the drums fill the room with sound.
Thrice – The Grey. Obligatory, but man do I love that minor-key guitar riff that opens up this song.
Iceage – Hurrah. I’m not a huge Iceage fan, although I think I fit their profile; this was the only song off the Danish punk-lite band’s latest album, Beyondless, that had a distinctive hook to it, reminiscent of the old Swedish act The Soundtrack of Our Lives.
Snail Mail – Golden Dream. Lindsey Jordan, just 19 years old, records as Snail Mail, and her debut album, Lush, is a surprisingly mature slice of jangle-pop, by turns delicate and potent. Her vocal style is an acquired taste, though.
St. Lucia – A Brighter Love. I thought St. Lucia’s debut album was one of the best records of the decade, but his follow-up had one great song, “Dancing on Glass,” with a lot of filler behind it. This feels promising, with a solid hook, more of the R&B flourishes that punctuated his first LP, but also a slightly more modern sound than the last record showed.
Interpol – The Rover. You pretty much know what you’re getting here, although I think the guitar riff at the opener, which appears throughout the song, gives it a poppier and brighter vibe than most Interpol songs feature.
Jealous of the Birds – Plastic Skeletons. Belfast’s Naomi Hamilton, who records as Jealous of the Birds, returns with this lead single from her upcoming EP, with a hypnotic vocal melody, thoughtful and clever lyrics, and a banging riff in the chorus.
Wild Nothing – Letting Go. This would fit well on Wild Nothing’s 2012 album Nocturne, which is a compliment after his derivative 2016 follow-up Life of Pause.
Sink Ya Teeth – Substitutes. Dark electronica from a female duo out of Norwich, with a bass-and-drum line reminiscent of early New Order. Their self-titled debut album came out on Friday.
The Charlatans – Standing Alone. I still love the Charlatans’ early output, but they fell off hard around 2001’s Wonderland and have never quite recovered their earlier verve. This track, from the four-track EP Totally Eclipsing, hints at their peak sound but never quite gets there for me.
Lokoy – Malibu. Lokoy is the bassist for Sløtface, who had one of my favorite albums of 2017, but this track – with a vocal from Norwegian teenager Girl in Red – is nothing like his regular band’s punk-pop styling, instead going trip-hoppy like early Gorillaz.
At Pavillon – Stop This War. I thought this was a Bloc Party track at first, between the music and the vocalist’s similarity to Kele Okerere. It’s a promising debut for the Austrian quartet (and, yes, their lead singer is black).
Beth Orton & the Chemical Brothers – I Never Asked To Be Your Mountain. I can’t believe “Stolen Car,” Orton’s biggest hit and one of my favorite songs of the 1990s, will be 20 years old in February. She still sounds great on this collaboration with the Chemical Brothers, with whom she first worked in 1995 on the electronic duo’s album Exit Planet Dust.
Indian Askin – BEAT24. This Dutch quartet put out a new single, “I Feel Something,” on June 1st, but I prefer what is essentially the B-side, “BEAT24,” for its driving guitar riff and an overall vibe that reminds me of Beck’s Mellow Gold.
Black Honey – I Only Hurt the Ones I Love. This British alternative quartet hasn’t really missed with any of their singles so far, and just announced their debut album, called Black Honey, will drop on September 21st.
The Joy Formidable – Dance of the Lotus. The Welsh alternative band has put out two singles already – this one and “The Wrong Side” – in advance of their latest album, Aaarth, due out September 28th.
Wooden Shjips – Golden Flower. I think at this point if I haven’t sold you on Wooden Shjips’ noodling art rock, I’m probably never going to.
Here Lies Man – That Much Closer To Nothing. All media coverage of this trio refer to their sound as “afrobeat stoner metal,” although I feel like it’s ’70s psychedelic metal with a heavy funk influence. I’m also not entirely sure what afrobeat music sounds like. This song is good, though.
Motorowl – Atlas. Motorowl’s members are in their early 20s but their sound is very 1970s, blending Sabbath/Candlemass doom elements with some faster and heavier riffing. This is the lead single from their second album, also called Atlas, due out on July 27th.
The Skull – The Endless Road Turns Dark. Fans of the 1980s/1990s doom metal and later gothic hard rock act Trouble should recognize the voice of Eric Wagner, who founded The Skull in 2012 with two former members of his earlier band. The sound is very similar to Trouble’s first two albums, Psalm 9 and The Skull, before they signed with Def American and pivoted towards more mainstream hard rock.
Leprous – Golden Prayers. Despite their name, Leprous aren’t a death-metal or goregrind act – they’re an avant-garde metal act from Norway who probably have more in common with King Crimson than King Diamond, using unusual time signatures and progressive elements along with traditional vocals that even feature harmonies. They just released a new album last August, but this surprise single appears to be a one-off for now.
Zeal & Ardor – Built On Ashes (short version). Zeal & Ardor is the brainchild of Manuel Gagneux, who decided to try to fuse Negro spiritual vocals and harmonies with the sort of fuzzed-out death metal recently popularized by Deafheaven. I also recommend “Servants” from Z&A’s latest album, Stranger Fruit.
The Other Side of Hope.
Note: I’m on vacation at the moment and thus not checking email or social media. I’m still writing a little, though, because I feel better when I do.
I only have a few 2017 movies I missed and still want to catch, including Israel’s Oscar submission Foxtrot (which made the shortlist but not the final five), but since I’m traveling abroad at the moment a few films that haven’t been released digitally in the US are suddenly available to me. One of those is 2017’s The Other Side of Hope, a really weird-ass Finnish film with a stark message about humanism and the European migrant crisis along with some of the strangest cinematography and editing I’ve ever seen. And that’s before we even talk about the sushi scene.
The film is barely 95 minutes outside of the credits, and the two main characters Waldemar Wikström and Khaled Ali don’t even meet until about an hour into the story. Wikström is an unhappy, apparently affect-less shirt salesman who sells his entire stock, takes his winnings to an illegal poker room to grow them exponentially, and then invests the bulk of it in a failing restaurant with the most incompetent staff you could possibly imagine. Khaled is a Syrian refugee who first appears in a pile of soot or dirt, applies for asylum, and enters the Finnish refugee system, which is depicted here as arbitrary and capricious. It is only when Khaled’s application is denied that fate throws him into Wikström’s path and the dour restaurateur decides to help the Syrian try to stay in the country illegally and eventually be reunited with his missing sister.
The story itself is straightforward if a bit unrealistic at several points – especially anything around the restaurant, which can’t possibly exist with the three stooges running it, including the laziest cook on the planet, the dumbest doorman on the planet, and a waitress who might be the most competent of the three simply because she doesn’t do anything. It’s the way the film is shot that is so jarring; if I didn’t know this was the work of Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki, I would wonder if this was the work of a precocious film student. Kaurismäki, who also directed 2011’s Le Havre has said this will be his last film, has a quirky, minimalist visual style that isn’t much more expansive with dialogue, much of it delivered drily to the point of atonality. That makes the Wikström plot line kind of hard to appreciate until Khaled shows up, since the refugee story unfurls with more emotion, mostly from Khaled telling his own history since he before he left Aleppo and from the friendship he forges with fellow asylum seeker Mazdak. There are weird, lingering shots of still faces and background items. People line up to talk to each other as if in a marching band, and often speak to each other at an obtuse angle that looks completely unnatural, using a flat tone and rarely expressing any emotion – no one cries in the film, and no one laughs.
Once the two plots unite, however, the movie takes a sudden turn towards deadpan humor, some of it extremely funny – including the aforementioned sushi scene, as Wikström attempts to turn the failing eatery into a Japanese restaurant, with preposterous results – even as Khaled’s safety is in danger both from Finnish authorities and from a group of neo-Nazis who attack him more than once on the street. The Finnish people generally come off as kind and open in the movie, despite the few outright racists running around, while the government itself comes off as heartless and ineffectual. The encounter with Khaled seems to light a spark of humanity in Wikström, and maybe even in one of the other employees (not the cook, who appears unable to boil water), but any hope there might be in the film comes from individuals, not form the institutions that, in theory, exist to help such people who have found no help from anyone else.