"Mexico" by peipp. Uploaded to DeviantArt licensed CC BY-NC-ND 3.0.
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/deed.en
Onism is a word coined by author and poet John Konieg that refers to the bitter realization of how little of the world you will ever truly experience.
Sadly, with the thousands of cultures alive today, most of us will only be a part of one, or perhaps a few if we are lucky.
Driven by this realization, I’ve embarked on a journey to immerse myself in as many cultures as humanly possible. What better way to do so than through a medium similar across every culture–Music.
Today, this journey takes us to the vibrant and colorful heart of Mexico.
Feliz Día de la Independencia, México (Happy Indepenedence Day, Mexico).
What do you know about Mexico?
Mexico, the 13th largest country by area and 10th most populated country in the world is located in the southern part of North America. Thanks to its significant trade relationship with the U.S. and the large Mexican-American population, the Mexican culture is undoubtedly one of the more accessible and influential cultures for us to appreciate.
Cover for "Marie / Chronicles of a needful being" by Theatre's Kiss
German darkwave artist Theatre’s Kiss has once again cultivated an astoundingly gothic post-punk album. Let’s talk about it.
An Artificer of Atmosphere
Since I first stumbled upon Theatre’s Kiss in 2020, I’ve remained entranced by their atmospheric melancholia.
Everything about the musical project is intentional, from its black metal-inspired aesthesis to its esoteric lyricism. While separate albums retain a distinct “vibe,” there’s a characteristic Theatre’s Kiss flair throughout — a flair for the enigmatic, emotional and elaborate.
Logo for the artist Theatre’s Kiss
“It’s all about atmosphere,” is the artist’s adage. “Nothing else matters.”
It’s clear that the project, headed by the corpse-painted Fassse Lua, comes from the heart. And its newest installment is no exception.
Suppress Your Memories
“Marie / Chronicles of a needful being,” is the official second chapter of the Theater’s Kiss musical universe and, according to Fassse Lua, a passion project.
Described as a tribute to The Cure — specifically the album “Faith” — “Marie” is about “the fear of being alone and dealing with yourself.”
The story of “Marie,” a character teased in the March EP “II,” is that of a girl’s descent into addiction.
“From that moment on,” Fassse Lua says in an Instagram post, “there’s no turning back. In her addiction, she longs for the moments that allow her to forget everything.”
This idea comes to the forefront with the album’s first track, “Fluch,” or “Curse.”
Into the day Masquerade mode on Routines that push me into…
Inhale the death
Supress your memories Embrace the agony
“Fluch” by Theatre’s Kiss
What I find interesting about this release, as opposed to albums like “Self-Titled” and “Liedensmeloiden,” is the volume of information presented to the audience.
I’ve always been intrigued by the mysterious and borderline-elusive nature of Fassse-Lua, the unnamed — and basically un-faced — progenitor of such trancingly woeful beats.
For the most part, the audience is expected to infer the meaning behind various tracks.
For “Marie,” however, we’re granted not just context, but a storyline. And for me, that completely transforms the listening experience.
Endless Sorrow
Constructed so as to give the impression of a single, continuous song, “Marie” represents a waxxing and waning of misery as the album’s titular character struggles to reconcile with her declining mental health.
Some tracks are moody, laden with drums and despondent strings (“Pillows of Repression”) while others are light and airy, reminiscent of the soft sadness seen in “Self-Titled” (“Numb”).
The more prevalent use of drums also gives the album a distinct post-punk edge, as opposed to the darkwave vibes of earlier projects.
Reading through each song’s lyrics adds another layer of intrigue. For example, we learn in “Peer Pressure” that it was Marie’s romantic partner who served as her entrypoint into drug use.
Our first try ruined everything
We gave up on ourselves We thought of nobody else What we had in common was the painful urge
“Peer Pressure” by Theatre’s Kiss
There’s simply so much to talk about with this album. To avoid writing a dissertation, I’ll finish with an assessment of my favorite track off the album: “Deceased Dreams.”
Alternating between jangly, ethereal energy and the utterly dour, “Deceased Dreams” represents the sudden crush of hard-hitting reality. But rather than deliver a barrage of punches, it presents an esoteric dance.
What I really love about this track is its sudden deluge into German — the first instance of its kind across the span of Theatre’s Kiss — and the perfectly sweet vocals of Fassse Lua to go along with it.
Final Thoughts
While I’m not sure “Marie” is my favorite project by Theatre’s Kiss, it’s certainly the most interesting.
The album’s development of a diegesis through lyricism and imagery is exciting in a way not many artists can deliver.
I find myself playing detective, piecing together bits of information to try and uncover the bigger picture. Perhaps that was Lua’s intention, or perhaps the true enigma of “Marie” comes from its personal roots.
Either way, I look forward to traversing more of this lyrical world.
When was the last time you listened to a song from a non-American/British artist? What about the last time you listened to a song in a different language? Ever wanted to expand your music taste to include songs from all around the world?
Well that’s the goal of this article series. I hope to help you expand your song taste to include songs from other countries, in other languages and from different cultures.
In Reykjavík, Iceland, there is a small museum hidden(ish) underground in what used to be a restroom. This museum is a unique punk museum filled with graffiti, newspaper clippings of the history of punk in Iceland, punk jackets you can try on and even headphones hanging from the ceiling playing punk Icelandic songs.
If you go just make sure to not start taking pictures until you have paid the local punk (Svarti Álfur) who runs the museum.
Like most punk history, Icelandic punk came to be as a way to protest societal norms and became more than just a musical revolution. So today we will be shining light on different Icelandic punk bands.
A little annoying disclaimer first: For all of these I could only find them on Spotify and not YouTube.
Fræbblnarn
One of the most popular and first Icelandic punk bands is Fræbblnarn. Some songs from them are “No Friends” and “Bjór”. Both of these songs are from their album before they broke up in 1983. They did get back together and are currently making more music. Their most recent album as of now is “Dót,” released in 2018.
Their songs are known for their fast lyrics with upbeat instrumentals which contrast the words/meaning of the song, similar to Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated.”
Tuð
Another Icelandic punk band is Tuð. They claim themselves to rant about problems of middle age “loudly and abundantly.” Their songs are pretty short, ranging from one song being 3 seconds to the longest being 2 minutes. They are fast paced, and even without knowing the language, seem anger-filled as claimed.
A personal favorite is “Vorlag” in the “Þegiðu!” album, which has a caricature of a punk old man with pins and a spiky mohawk. “Vorlag” translates to “Spring Song” in Icelandic. It is about a guy who gets locked out of his home in the cold and freezes to death. When looking up the lyrics, they remind me of something out of an Edger Allan Poe book.
In comparison, there is a song “Tilfinningamaðurinn” (The emotional man) which is about different good things happening only for something to go wrong. The good moments, however, are humorously contrasted by the screaming voice.
Nöp
The last Icelandic punk band that is newest with only five singles coming out during 2023-now is Nöp. Nöp have two songs in English (“My friends are dead” and “Shoot you in the face”) and three that aren’t (“Rifast,” “Eurobabble” and “Drullusama”). The songs are pretty similar instrumentally, with strong bass transitioning into heavy drums. Their songs, however, have different topics. “Eurobabble,” “Drullusama,” and “Shoot you in the face” have themes of social commentary and war/death, while “My friends are dead” is more about the meaning of life being nothing and becoming older and friends passing away.
I hope you enjoyed the first installation to the International Music series.
In an effort to become more of a musical elitist, I’ve started collecting cassettes.
Not just any cassettes, but obscure punk cassettes.
The most recent tape I got my hands on, “Aluminum-Free” by a band aptly named Deodorant, was release #4 of a collective known as Open Palm Tapes, a Chicago-based punk label and distro dedicated to “the sh–t that slaps.”
Open Palm Tapes has a cultivated image, with a strong DIY ethos evidenced by zine-style graphics and eggy illustrations. Deodorant — debuting with their 2018 LP “Smells Good” — is but one of many bands affiliated with the Open Palm.
Poster included with “Aluminum Free” EP cassette
Part of what attracted me to Deodorant — aside from the $3 price tag — was the eclectic artwork on the tape sleeve, which featured a collage of photographic images, illustrations and the beloved male leads from the 2019 film “The Lighthouse.”
A write-up by Ralph Rivera Jr. characterizes Deodorant thusly:
“…Deodorant: organic, time-tested, mother approved, Aluminum Free. Guaranteed to upwrench and unclench the stench of monotony from yer fetid pits, leaving only the Phunkiest of Pheromones behind.”
The “Phunk”
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I fed the tape into my cassette player, but the garage rock-infused freestyle rap of “Bunta Groovin’ / Boast Mk. II” certainly was not it.
It’s not uncommon for punk tracks to feature spoken word — Uranium Club, for instance, makes ample use of it — but Deodorant’s intentional rhyme scheme and old school flow was an unequivocal punk take on rap.
Laden with references to punk rock ethos (“smash the fash and them blue lives bastards now”) and subversions of opulence (“I’m slamming in some Gucci hand-me-downs”)
Cover for “Smells Good” by Deodorant
Conversely, track three (“Top”) followed the prototype of punk spoken word — rhyme and flow coming secondary to lyrical content, with instrumental backing serving as the figurative “spinal cord” — before devolving into genre-characteristic chaos.
The prior track, a viciously garagey guitar slant titled “King Samo,” kept up the EP’s frenetic energy.
Other tracks, like “Deodorant vs. Son of Baconator” and “Guitar Hero World Tour” smack of classic garage punk, ridden with distortion and maddening guitar riffs.
