Badlands
Dirty Beaches Zoo Music; 2011
originally published April 18, 2011 on Probably Just Hungry
It’s sorta funny: no matter how many times I listen to Dirty Beaches’ Badlands (and it only came out a few weeks ago) I can’t manage to decipher anything about it. Maybe it’s the hypnotic rhythms or the cavernous reverb or the absolute lack of low end frequencies. Maybe it’s the nearperfect Chris Issak impression Alex Zhang Hungtai pulls off on almost every song. Whatever it is, this record is just about as obscured as the chugging four-track-recorded heartbeats that pulse along amidst the tape hiss, which is equally represented by the grainy black-and-white photo on the album’s cover. There’s a lot riding on this photo: the hipster plaid, the perfectly shellacked hair, the shadow of a suspected soul patch overgrowth, the lomo-esque dark corners. I would almost put money on guessing that the smoke obscuring Hungtai’s face came from either an American Spirit or a Parliament Light. But for some reason it works. Everything on the cover of this album spells out corny stunts and trite aesthetics, but it doesn’t actually come off as revolting as the sum of its parts. "Horses" Here’s that Chris Issak impression I promised you. If you listen a little closer, you can also hear a little bit of the Ventures and a lotta bit of Suicide. Of all the song present on the album, I feel like this one informs the true feel of the cover the best with its manic and cramped interpre- tation of classic surf rhythms. When I hear the track launch, I instantly picture the cover photo animating itself in a burst of mysterious movement. "True Blue" On the other side of the album’s feel is this doo-wop highlight. Serving as the counterpoint to the frenzy of ”Horses”, ”True Blue” plays as a genuine beacon of emotional surrender. The main
rhythm guitar riff (played in a lower register) fills in the lack of low-end that afflicts the rest of the album and lends a depth to the composition. A bonafide ’60s-style pop gem and a sincere statement breaking through the smokey facade of the album. I will be the first to admit that this album tends to confuse me, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. There are just too many mundane facets to its surface, which sort of help to balance itself out. Looks like we might just have a case of Three Stooges Syndrome...