It’s hard to stand out in extreme music these days. It’s been almost 40 years since musicians discovered that screaming over top of a field of static is compelling enough content to garner a career, and the field is starting to slow down. Artists like The Rita have created the heaviest form of music that is possible with current technology, and artists like Atrax Morgue have experimented with dredging the bottom of the lyrical barrel for shock value. The only way left to stand out is to just be really good at what you do, and that’s where Author and Punisher come in.
Author and Punisher is the stage name of one Tristan Shone, a very scary looking man with a whole garden of his own homemade “instruments” that he uses to make some blood-curdling noises. His music is heavy enough that it loses bearing as a genre, melding in the minds of most listeners into that vague bucket called noise. However, if you have an ear for this sort of thing (or like me you cheat by reading his website), the music is best understood as industrial metal. However, those instrumental machines he builds distort this categorization, as the sounds of conventional metal are still constrained by what noises you can produce with a guitar.
Author and Punisher uses some truly imposing instruments. The visual aesthetic of his performance is, as you can see from the photo, some kind of torture chamber. However, if you go over to that website link and take a look at his ‘machines’ tab, another reference point might be BDSM gear. Regardless, the sounds these instruments create match their appearance.
The novelty of homemade torture instruments gives way to some pretty engaging music. Author and Punisher is truly at the top of his field, taking some of the most recent trends in noise and synthesizing it. Since the arrival of Cut Hands, noise musicians have had to step up their rhythmic game, incorporating actual pulses and beats to the clattering of noise. Similarly, fatigue with the hyper-masculine posturing of extreme music more generally has forced musicians to incorporate more emotional and grounded themes to their music. Author and Punisher doesn’t fully represent either of these two trends, but both can be found in some amount. The music is engaging rhythmic level, though by no means complex, and while I would never describe his music as vulnerable or emotionally honest, I do get the sense that Tristen Shone has a soul.
Author and Punisher isn’t going to change your tastes forever or open up genres you thought you hated, but if you’re at least open to noise, metal, or industrial, this artist has a unique level of craft and artistry that will make it worth your time.
Indie kids spend a fair amount of time bragging about how much more challenging and difficult to understand our music is than the mainstream. This attitude has been deconstructed and ridiculed for good reason, but I think many people are being genuine when they say that they crave music that will expand and challenge their tastes. So, I figured I’d start an occasional series on artists and albums that I’ve personally struggled to understand but have come to truly enjoy. You may find these artists easier to digest than I first did, depending on your tastes, but what I really hope is that you find them as rewarding as I have come to find them.
For this inaugural entry, I want to introduce you to Cat Power, a folk, blues and alternative musician who enjoyed serious critical acclaim in the 90s and 2000s but has befuddled the public at large. When I first heard Cat Power, I found her music unpleasant, challenging and inscrutable, and moved on without giving her a second thought. However, you can probably relate to the experience of having a certain album or musician you didn’t immediately like just stick in your brain. Power did this to me, and I’ve found myself returning to her music at regular intervals, each time liking it a little more than the last.
Cat Power was originally championed by Steve Shelley of the Sonic Youth, who produced and appeared on her first couple of albums. This was at a time when every Sonic Youth member was championing a new alternative act. However, the other two artists who got major label contracts this way, Nirvana and Hole, became big accessible pop acts, and none of those three adjectives would ever be applied to Power. Her music is rooted in blues and folk, following the long tradition of rock musicians who retained an interest in the original cultural context of rock and roll. She prefers a lot of covers, playing songs from the American Folk repertoire, early country greats like the Carter Family and Hank Williams, and obscure folk revival artists like Michael Hurley. However, Power stays true to blues in a way that the Rolling Stones or Bob Dylan never did, she retains the somber, morbid, depressive atmosphere that dominated the blues, interpreting through the angsty and pained lens of alternative rock. On paper, her sound isn’t that far away from Sheryl Crow or Melissa Ethridge, but her music is pained in such an understated yet sincere way that I actually had to turn it off while writing this article because I couldn’t focus.
As she progressed, Power would become more accessible, relatively speaking. Her first solo album “Myra Lee” is so stripped bare and distorted that the blues-rock core is almost indiscernible. Her second album “What Would the Community Think,” is a lot more comprehensible, and her masterpiece “Moon Pix,” almost resembles an album you might listen to for pleasure. These three albums are the core of her discography, but for starters, I might recommend her less innovative but more accessible work in the 2000s such as “You Are Free,” or her covers record.
When recreational listening takes this much effort, there has to be a considerable payoff, and for Cat Power, that payoff comes in the wistful emotional space her music occupies. There’s something deeply beautiful at the bottom of Power’s depressive emotional space, and indie rock’s obsession with mental health as subject matter can be partially attributed to Power. Artists from Phoebe Bridgers to Billie Eilish owe her a debt, and the better part of 20 years of folksy lyrical indie rockers have tried to recapture and build upon what she accomplished. Give it a shot if you want a rewarding but unforgiving listening experience.
Image used under the Creative Commons License. Sourced from Flickr user kingArthur_aus.
Mallrat (in her personal life known as Gracie Shaw) is a 22-year-old Australian pop singer and songwriter that has been releasing music since 2016, with the debut of her first EP “Uninvited.” I mentioned Mallrat on my “Australia Favorites” blog back in April. Her discography includes three EPs and a handful of singles. With earnest and angsty lyrics, she brings a refreshing perspective to the world of pop. She has collaborated with artists such as Cub Sport, Allday, and producers like Konstantin Kersting and BJ Burton.
My favorite of her projects is her 2018 release, “In The Sky.” This five-song EP intertwines the familiarity of streamlined-sounding pop with teenage uncertainty, hope and despair. However, if you’re not a fan of vocal chops, I would stay away from this EP (it’s covered in them). “In The Sky” also has killer cover-art, one of my favorites of all time.
I’ve been listening to Mallrat since 2016, and I hope to one day see a full-length album from her. I also think she has a voice suited for soft rock, and would love to hear her experiment in that realm as well.
I had a small realization the other day. I didn’t know a single Janet Jackson song. She’s one of the bestselling musicians in history, she has ten number one hits, and I can’t name a single one. I checked with my friends, neither could they. Despite everything 80s being blasted ad nauseam for the last decade, Janet has been almost totally forgotten. How did this happen?
Well, we all know how. In 2004 Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake invented the concept of nipples live on stage at the Super Bowl. The sheer shock from millions of Americans discovering that nipples exist made her a social pariah and resulted in a very literal blacklisting in the industry that lasts through today. I would be far from the first to point out the double standard that allowed Timberlake to walk out of the Superbowl controversy virtually unscathed. I’m also not the first person to point out that Janet’s legacy has suffered. I might be more original in suggesting that the stigma surrounding Michael Jackson as of late has done more damage to her career than his, even though she’s more or less kept her mouth shut about him since the 90s. But I’m not really here to talk about that. I’m here to talk about Janet, because as someone born in 2001, I had no clue what type of artist she was. Who was she before the backlash? What would the history books have to say about Janet had CBS not ordered her name be struck clean from the record books? Well, here’s my brief attempt at explaining this well-documented, yet forgotten, career arc for the Zoomers out there, because Janet Jackson is worth revisiting.
Faye Webster isn’t a huge star right now, but she definitely deserves to be. Her latest album is a triumph, and it’s exciting to see her get both critical attention and actual commercial success from it, as it’s currently on Billboard’s Heat Seekers and folk charts. So let’s get to know Faye Webster, and see what she has to say for herself.
Webster is, first and foremost, a country musician. Based out of the ATL, she has a very retro countrypolitan sound reminiscent of Emmylou Harris, Patsy Cline and Linda Ronstadt. 70s pop country is uncool both within country music, where it garnered a pretty big backlash for selling out, and outside of country where it’s mostly been written out of pop history. But for several years, country musicians were having number one albums getting multiple pop hits a year by being just aggressively sad.
Webster has forgone the pop hits and success, but boy can she be sad with the best of them. She takes the twang out of her voice and relocates to some deeply melancholy lyrics (and some great slide guitars). Her album “I know I’m funny haha,” is perhaps the best indication of what kind of artist she is. It makes her music engaging and beautiful, but in a way that’s not much fun to talk about. If you’ve heard any indie folk, you know what to expect.
Her last album, “Atlanta Millionaires Club,” however, yields a few more interesting details. The album is a tribute to the musical history of Atlanta, both White and Black. The default instrumental palate is a fusion of her countrypolitan aesthetic with classic 70s soul, a fusion that works so well I’m honestly surprised it’s not done more often. There’s even a token country rap song, which, despite not really blowing me out of the water personally, beats the heck out of Florida Georgia Line and Luke Bryan.
So, if you want to know where to start, I might suggest listening to a few of her top songs on Spotify, then hitting up the new album when you’re feeling a little blue. Fusions of country and indie are just getting better and better these days, and Faye Webster is an excellent addition to that trend.
Album cover for Kelsey Lu’s 2019 album “Blood” Copyright: Columbia Records
Alright it’s time to shine a spotlight on one of North Carolina’s own, Kelsey Lu. Hailing from Charlotte, she grew up in a strictly religious household before attending UNC School of the Arts. In short, she’s about as Carolinian as a musician can be.
So, from the above album cover (cropped for nudity) you might expect an R&B singer, or perhaps some kind of melodic indie rocker, but at the risk of disappointing you, Lu fits somewhere in the realm of baroque pop. Yes, that UNCSA education was apparently in classical cello, because Lu is basically inseparable from the instrument. Her music weaves in a variety of strings including viola and violin, supplementing thoughtfully written songs that border on spoken word at times. One word that would not describe her, however, is orchestral, as her arrangements are incredibly sparse, rarely doubling more than one instrument besides her voice, and eschewing chords. The result is somewhat expiriemental, while remaining accesible
If classical isn’t really your thing, still give Kelsey Lu a shot, because the restrained conservatism of her upbringing and stylistic influences are not reflected in her music. She gave one anecdote of listening to 36 Mafia in her sister’s car in secret. Side note, while I can’t speak as to whether that story represents the community at large, it did make me laugh for how much it fits the profile of most Charlottean Jehovah’s Witnesses I’ve met. Her rebellious nature is not just targeted at her roots though; she turns a critical yet loving eye to the outside world. Her 2019 album “Blood” targets hippies, art school grads, and her parents’ generation all in the first song. Her music is in equal measure restrained and rebellious, and an excellent entry in our state’s cultural tapestry.
On June 18, mewithoutYou announced they were beginning their farewell tour. This tour was planned to take place through 2020, marking their final year as a band. However, the world had different plans. But now with COVID restrictions easing and cases coming down in general, the band made the decision to announce their tour with a teaser on their Instagram, announcing two Philadelphia shows – “The Beginning of the End” and “Brother, Sister 15th Anniversary Show.” Contrary to what many fans believe, these aren’t the band’s last shows. In fact, it marks the beginning of their final tour. While heartbreaking for many fans (especially newer ones, like myself), the members of the band made this decision to focus on their families and personal lives.
mewithoutYou formed in 2001, the original members being Aaron Weiss (vocals), Mike Weiss (lead guitar, background vocals, keys), Christopher Kleinberg (rhythm guitar), Daniel Pishock (bass) and Rickie Mazzotta (drums). While their style has changed greatly over their career, thematically and lyrically they’ve stayed consistent. Much of their lyrics take inspiration from Judeo-Christianity, Buddhism and Islamic philosophy, all delivered in a deeply personal spoken-word poetry style. Let’s take a deep dive into the musical world of mewithoutYou…
“I Never Said That I Was Brave” (2001)
This five-song EP is more of a sneak peek of what the group was capable of. Borderline “screamo” vocals, thick guitars, panic chords galore and percussion that puts many mainstream drummers to shame, this 15 minute EP leaves you almost no time to relax. Many of the tracks on here made it onto their first album a year later. This is our first look into Aaron’s deeply personal and introspective world of songwriting.
“Let us die, let us die!/Then dying, we reply/Oh, don’t you tell us about your suffering…’’ are the first words we’re greeted with. This album is reminiscent of their first EP, but is a lot more polished but still as, if not more, angry. This album has a common theme of heartbreak, loneliness, and questioning one’s faith. This album doesn’t end on a pleasant note as most do. The closest form of closure we get is in the final track “The Cure For Pain,” in which Aaron belts “The cure for pain is in the pain, so it’s there that you’ll find me.” This album is a desperate diary entry of a hurt soul, looking for some sort of relief.
Like their previous album, “Catch For Us The Foxes” is deeply emotional and personal, dealing with even heavier topics than before: reaching your rock bottom and having “no lower place to fall,” feelings of worthlessness and suicide. While “A->B Life” was more nihilistic and angry, this album has many semblances of hope, Aaron belting many lines praising his small triumphs in his improving mental health. This album has a more mature feel and explores many different sounds. Here, we see our first (Pt.2) song. These songs hark back to tracks on previous albums, sharing similar melodies and themes, but are typically more upbeat and hopeful. This track is “Four Word Letter(Pt.2).” While the original spoke lines of heartbreak, “(Pt. 2)” speaks of being healed, yet still skeptical of moving forward. This album ends with a poem of rebirth from a lonely self, lyrically burying this angry Aaron – “Six of my closest friends will dig up the ground, all my accomplishments gently lowered down…”
Arguably their best and most successful album, “Brother, Sister” is an album-long testimony of his journey of healing and self-love. As you would expect, this album isn’t sad or angry, however, it’s not 45 minutes of, “Hey everyone! Look at me, I’m happy now!” There are still a few songs that still deal with healing and questioning one’s self. You hear this as early as the third track with “Wolf Am I! (And Shadow).” We also see another (Pt. 2) song, “Nice and Blue (Pt. 2),” a song about not being completely healed, but improving nonetheless. Each stanza of “(Pt. 2)” contrasts the lines of the original, quite the departure from the angry, self-loathing lament the original track was. This album is all about contrast, songs like “The Sun and the Moon,” lyrical themes between tracks, the album art, heck, even the album name. Probably my favorite thing about this album is the interludes that are known by the fanbase as the “Spider Songs“ – “Yellow Spider,” “Orange Spider” and “Brownish Spider.” These songs (I believe) serve as a stark contrast to some of the heavier songs that come before or after them. The finale of the album, “In a Sweater Poorly Knit” shows that while Aaron is in a good place now, he knows that lows in life are inevitable and will eventually cycle back, but with that cycle, leads to more personal growth. If you listen closely to the end, you can hear rain – right where the first track begins.
“It’s All Crazy! It’s All False! It’s All A Dream! It’s Alright” (2009)
The title being a near direct quote from the Islamic philosopher Bawa Muhaiyaddeen, this album explores many spiritual themes, not just Islam, but Christianity and Judaism, too. The sound of this album is nothing like they’ve done before – almost all the songs are folky and acoustic. Another common theme throughout the album is plants and animals, one of the tracks, “The Fox, the Crow, and the Cookie,” being a retelling of one of Aesop’s fables. Again, we see another (Pt. 2) song, “Bullet to Binary (Pt.2).” Like before, this sequel contrasts the original with a more positive and hopeful message, this time, a message about unity.
In my opinion, this album is their most overlooked and underrated. “Ten Stories” is a concept album about a train carrying circus animals, the elephant running herself into the side of the car she’s in, derailing the train and freeing all the circus animals. The elephant inevitably sacrifices her life for the good of others and is hanged in “Elephant on the Dock.” All of which is a metaphor for the crucifixion of Christ. Each track focuses on each of the animals’ experiences, but mainly follows the adventures of the fox and bear. Haley Williams of Paramore is featured on “Fox’s Dream of the Log Flume,” she has said in an interview that mewithoutYou is her favorite band (she has great taste!).
Between the release of “Ten Stories” and this album, Aaron and Mike experienced the loss of their father. Aaron’s lyrics became nihilistic and have seemed to have lost touch with his spirituality, which is mirrored in many of the tracks. Another common theme revolving around the apocalypse, referencing The Four Horsemen, The Seven Seals, divine judgment and death. Early mewithoutYou probably would have written a loud and angry album, but this more mature band wrote songs that are haunting and cold, but almost comforting. Here again, we see a very hurt Aaron, but he’s older now, and more mature. He drops the only curse in their entire discography in “Rainbow Signs.” In almost a whisper he sings, “Pale horse vows in a grave reply/Smile for the camera at the church nearby/Threw a mute curse at the Boise sky/For my f——d up Napoleon-of-St.-Helena-hairline…” The album ends with Aaron dreaming about seeing his father again, sharing an inside joke that only they understood.
”Like It’s All Crazy!..,” this album has many allusions to animals, many of the lyrics written as conversations between them. The first half is unapologetically aggressive, pushing you directly into the chaos with no warning. Lyrically and thematically, it seems that Aaron has come to terms with his father’s death and has gone back to his spiritual roots. “Another Head For Hydra” explores the worthlessness of material possessions. “[dormhouse sighs]” is a more positive look at the apocalypse – stemming from a revelation he had on a West Virginia highway. The second half, while still heavy, is more refined and not as chaotic. “2,459 Miles” is a song about being far from his home, wife and kids. “Micheal, Row Your Boat Ashore” is about the doubts and fears of being a new father. Personally, I think this album is Aaron’s best writing in a poetic sense. Each song is packed with metaphors, biblical references and clever wordplay.
I don’t think there will ever be another band that could hold a candle to the sheer complexity and beauty of mewithoutYou. Their lyrics are introspective, the instrumentals are layered and are like no other band I’ve ever heard. Their discography has a little something for everyone. Each album is a unique, near spiritual experience. If someone as iconic as Haley Williams holds them in high regard, maybe you should give them a chance. As current members Aaron, Mike, Rickie, Greg and Brandon ready themselves for one more tour, I wish them nothing but the best in their personal lives. Their music really has changed the lives of so many, including myself.
Russian musicians live with one eye over their shoulder. Music has provided one of the few remaining outlets for anti-government dissidence, but protest is a dangerous career, as three members of Pussy Riot found out in January. However, while many dissident bands prefer to keep a low profile, or remain entirely anonymous, the same cannot be said of Ic3peak.
Ic3peak are an experimental electronica duo consisting of Anastasia Kreslina and Nikolay Kostylev. They did not ostensibly begin with the intention of involving themselves in Russian politics. Until 2017, they sang entirely in English and toured Europe and Latin America, keeping a fairly low profile in their homeland. Their early music reflects the overall gothic and depressive state of Russian popular music and youth culture, an aesthetic sense Kreslina ascribes to economic decay, an unresponsive government and little hope for change. This attitude should be well known to anyone familiar with the myriad Russian Doomer post-punk playlists that overtook YouTube a few years back, but the rest of Ic3peak’s image might be a little more surprising.
Unlike their post-punk contemporaries, Ic3peak’s sound is brash and aggressive, formed on industrial hip-hop beats adapted from Witch House. This association with Russian hip-hop is, according to the speculation of NPR, likely what first landed them in trouble with the government, as hip-hop is seen as especially subversive and degenerate in the eyes of the President. However, it would not be Ic3peak’s music that would catapult them to fame, but their response to government pressure, particularly in the form of their absolutely insane music videos.
Music videos are a little bit of a lost art form, but Ic3peak wields them more effectively than perhaps any other indie band working today. The muted but cohesive color palates, violently macabre imagery and darkly comic political satire combine into videos that feel deeply pointed despite never making a precise political stand. Their visual art complements the dark, yet not explicitly abrasive music, using images that are too over the top and ironic to be scary, while retaining a sense of grounded seriousness.
This is the kind of video that can get you killed, but Ic3peak’s overwhelming popularity has likely helped insulate them. As Kreslina said in the video for “Death No More,” “I fill my eyes with kerosene, let it burn, the whole of Russia is watching me, let it burn” [translation from their closed captioning]. As their profile and music video budget rises, the whole of the world has started to watch as well.
The authorities have been unable to definitively silence Ic3peak, but that hasn’t stopped them from making their lives as difficult as possible. They have been caught in a wave of cancellations by local security forces, with live shows either outright banned or prevented by temporary detention. Government backlash has grown to such an extent that from the talk page of their Wikipedia article, the government appears to be paying third parties to edit in more flattering appraisals of the government reaction. This, in addition to being extremely petty, shows just how serious the threat this duo of 20-somethings poses is.
The label “experimental hip-hop” seems to now extend to more artists in the industry than it used to, but there’s no denying Death Grips helped found the genre and still remain at its center. Though Zach Hill is often noted as the leading creative of the group, Stefan Burnett, better known as MC Ride, is the vocal star. His punk, industrial-inspired delivery feeds on noise and electronic styles and production to create an unmatched sound. With Andy Morin also on keyboard and production, the music trio has put out six studio albums, a mixtape and six other miscellaneous projects.
Death Grips formed in 2010 and I’ve been listening since 2015. Considerably late to the show, I still found myself among very few fans in my area during high school. That being said, I spent my teen years in Wake Forest, NC. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Death Grips’ internet and streaming popularity were stronger than ever and continuously growing. I was a proud, but delusional, DG fan.
When you find a new project as inventive as Death Grips, it feels like stumbling upon gold. I thought I was nearly alone in this discovery and it took time for me to realize they were incredibly popular. As years passed and their popularity still grew, I found myself listening to Death Grips as often as I used to, but now in private. There was a certain embarrassment of Death Grips for me, and since talking to friends, I’ve learned for others, too. The embarrassment, perhaps stemming from a sudden jump of feeling special to being just a cog in the DG machine, was polarizing. Older listeners retreated to their rooms to partake while newer listeners were outwardly experiencing their newfound feeling of uniqueness.
Death Grips, despite their ever-altering audience, continue to put out music and I’ve noticed, both in myself and the people around me, the former DG embarrassment lifting. As people come to terms with liking music simply because it’s good and putting less concern into whether or not it boosts their individuality complex, I find that Death Grips is getting more public love from their long-time listeners.
As an ode to my lifted DG embarrassment, here’s a short list of some of my favorite Death Grips songs (in order of release):
Most people our age remember Sheryl Crow from when we were kids. She was pretty popular in the early 2000s, I was born in 2001, so that means her last hits were around five years old when I first started hearing the radio. This is the perfect interval for music to feel nostalgic, new enough that we remember it, but old enough that we had absolutely no critical eye to determine who a song was by or whether it was good. When I was old enough to think about music critically, I personally filed Sheryl Crow away in a category I now describe as “Mom Rock.” Yes, we have dad rock, and if no one else has come up with this joke yet, I know claim inventorship of mom rock. This category entails bluesy, spiritual rock music by middle aged white women that was all the rage from around 1996 to 2004, and artists like Crow, Kelly Clarkson, Nelly Furtado’s folky output, Liz Phair’s self-titled album, songs like “Bubly,” “Unwritten” and that one song about feeling the rain I can never remember because it came out when I was like two.
Now, I have personally been reevaluating a lot of mom rock. Partially because a lot of this music was dismissed specifically for appealing to middle-aged women, and I want to give it a fair chance, and partially because it’s a warm wave of nostalgia for me (and most other people our age). So, imagine my surprise when I find that Sheryl Crow was uh… actually really good? Okay, obviously Sheryl Crow was a good artist, she has plenty of classic hits, but Crow’s ’90s discography is good an entirely different dimension than I expected.
As it turns out, all of the songs I remember were from her 2002 album “C’mon C’mon,” which was something of a change in direction. That was a pop-rock album, I might call it a sell-out if it weren’t filled with front-to-back bangers. We aren’t here to discuss that today because you probably already know “Soak up the Sun,” “Picture” and maybe “Steve McQueen.” We’re here to talk about her first two albums, which were, to my eternal shock, alt-rock.
To be clear, Sheryl Crow was not making grunge. She fit in more with the rootsy acoustic side of alt-rock, with her auditory aesthetic being more akin to a pumped-up Hootie and the Blowfish or a less dense REM. Crow’s take on the genre is still recognizably her own though, mixing in her country fusion, eccentric songwriting, and an eye towards pop hits with the typical REM formula. Her first two albums had a combined 4 hits, none of which I have ever heard. Maybe I’m alone in never hearing Crow’s ’90s output, but I suspect that a number of you haven’t either, so check out her self-titled album. The music isn’t just good, as a lot of her music is, but was, as the title suggests, actually kind of edgy and out of the ordinary. She went way too hard for even the alt-iest of alt-country, but too grounded and feminine for alt-rock, so I do not know how much credibility she had at the time, but to me, it sounds pretty awesome.
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