Issue 69: Shoegaze

E-Board President

Angela Lin

Editor-in-Cheif

Chelsea Henderson

Art Directors

Jenny Chen

Megan Lam

Design Coordinator

Sydney Tomasello

Promotions Director

Sofia Maricevic

Promotions Director

In-Training

Emily Greenberg

Photo Directors

Emily Gringorten

Kimmy Curry

Features Editor

Ethan Matthews

Reviews Editors

Henry Bova

Ananya Chaudhari

Interviews Editor

Desmond LaFave

Social Media Directors

Hannah Lowicki

Matthew Rose

Alexa Rand

Events Coordinator

Roshni Subramonian Treasurer

Michael DeVine Staff Staff Writers

Jessica Gwardschaladse

Chelsea Henderson

Lacie Foreht

Desmond LaFave

Ethan Matthews

Michael Hirinda

Terrance Dumoulin

Alex Sumas

Sarah Lamodi

Lucas Cooperman

Katherine Miner

Henry Bova

Jacob Kemp

Dakota Castro Jarrett

Julia Towne

Alexandra Fu

Lillian Elwood

Jonathan Shia

Ahaan Chaudhuri

Victoria Li

Karl Adrianza

Ananya Chaudhuri

Trevor Gardemal

Sophia Haydon-Khan

Olivia Leon

Art & Design

Alia Ziae-Mohseni

Camille Wimpe

Catherine Terkildsen

Emlyn Griffths

Haidyn Redmond

Laura Mattingly

Maia Fernandez-Baigun

Nichcolas Alonzo

Sarah Liu

Xin Li

Ava Ackerman

Dewi Kalis

Juliana LaPara

Leena Gupta

Marsha Angkasa

Laurel Booth

Promotions

Alexa Rand

Anna Chalnick

Anya Gupta

Ari Kantorowitz

Bella Ramdayal

Connor Choptij

Emily Greenberg

Gabby Rinaldi

Genevieve Kopp

Hannah Lowicki

Luke Colombo

Marin Childers

Mason Wight

Matthew Rose

Mica Kahn

Michael DeVine

Ro Subramonian

Sofia Kolobaev

Sofia Maricevic

Sofie Wendell

Sydney Tomasello

Trevor Gardemal

Photography

Genevieve Kopp

Alder Whiteford

Michael Ault

Matthew Rose

Lauren Violette

Max Rizzuto

Eliana Gilman

Krista Brochu

Maya Solanki

Vanessa Chalabi

Mia Rapella

Samantha Zagha

Seha Khan

Claire Adner

Ashley Hart

Mackinley Morgan

Sophie Quisenberry

Hannah Bocian

Anna Kelly

Sophia Seremetis

Cayla Hoang

Sebastian Wicke

Cali Cardenas

Brinda Dhawan

Mukki Gill

Charlotte Hysen

Kelly Thomas

Ashlynn Braisted

Emma Lawson

Emily Kobren

Angela Lin

Emily Zakrzewski

Risa Tapanes

Emily Greenberg

Sammie Cirillo

Coby Sugars

Taliyah Fox

Helen Cai

Nicholas Alonzo

Muhammad Elarbi

Amanda Stark

Emily Gringorten

Faith Nguyen

Kimmy Curry

Julia Finocchiaro

Meet the Staff About Listening to Quote

Geneveive Kopp

Position Promotions

Major English and Graphic and Information Design

Graduating 2025

Favorite Venue MGM Music Hall

Tastemaker Since Spring 2022

Emlyn Griffiths

Position Design

Major Design + Communication

Graduating Spring 2024

Favorite Venue Paradise Rock Club in Boston, MA

Tastemaker Since Spring 2022

Sarah Lamodi

Position Content

Major English and Media & Screen Studies

Graduating Spring 2023

Favorite Venue The Sinclair, Cambridge, MA

Tastemaker Since Fall 2020

Seha Khan

Position Photo

Major Psychology

Graduating 2025

Favorite Venue Bowery Ballroom, NYC

Tastemaker Since Fall 2021

Lana Del Ray

Norman Fucking Rockwell!

King Princess “Watching My Phone”

Adele

Love in the Dark

“retweet”

Peach Pit

“Get 2 to 3 ”

Lana del Rey

“Get Free ”

Spacey Jane Here Comes Everybody

“still waiting for one direction to get back together”

The Garden “OC93”

Bob Vylan

Bob Vylan Presents the Price of Life

Oingo Boingo Only A Lad

“Rain. On. Me.”

Nujabes ft. Shing02 “Luv(sic.) pt. 3”

MF Doom “Curls”

Slowdive “40 Days”

“Never eat the IV chicken or dire consequences will follow”

The Greeting Committee, Afterhours

Photo by Brinda Dhawan (Electrical Engineering)

Cover Story

26

Shoegaze: Your Favorite Band’s Favorite Genre

While a surprisingly narrow subgenre of rock music, Shoegaze is inarguably one of the most influential sounds on the contemporary music landscape, impacting artists from the genre’s 1990s inception to today.

Features

Magnolia & Mann

Flipping the typical script of movie-to-song inspiration, Thomas Anderson’s 1999 drama Magnolia was created from, and with, singer-songwriter Aimee Mann’s music.

Remember You: The Thematic Function of “Adventure Time’s” whimsical music

To match the animated Cartoon Network series’ surprising complexity, the show featured music that sounded unlike anything else on TV.

The Hip Hop Transformation: Using History and Music to Empower Cambridge Youth

While big-name rappers first come to mind when thinking of hip-hop, a Cambridge organization aims to reconnect teens in the community to the genre’s authentic story.

Ballads of the AntiMonarchist

Following the passing of Queen Elizabeth II, one fact remains inarguable: she elicited some of this past centuries’ best music.

Editorials

Reviews

The Sonics of Cyberspace: Music in the Metaverse

Music has already played a pivotal role in the Metaverse’s legitimization, and the technology is poised to fundamentally alter the way we consume it.

Death of the “Female Manipulator”: How Fiona Apple Took Her Power Back

No stranger to categorization, the removal of Fiona Apple’s music from TikTok resists a reductive understanding of the eccentric artist and her complex story.

Interviews

24

Local Talent: Gucci Pineapple

Tastemakers recently sat down with the iconic Boston artist to talk about Fortnite, being ‘chronically offline,’ and playing jazz for indie kids at house shows.

Local Talent: Divine Sweater

Hear from indie rock band Divine Sweater’s lead singer Meghan Kelleher and guitarist Sean Seaver about collaboration, songs that tell stories, and lucky sweaters.

42 47

Show Reviews

Stella Donnelly, Joji, Inhaler

Album Reviews

Björk, Shygirl, Freddie Gibbs, Blackpink, Maya Hawke

Etcetera

17

Underrated Artists: Francis of Delirium

Staff writer Sarah Lamodi argues why Francis of Delirium, a Luxembourg-based indie pop-rock band, is an underappreciated act.

18

The Strokes Discography

Dive into the discography of one of the 21st Century’s most influential New York rock bands.

22 38

Taste of Nostalgia: Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins

Tastemakers takes a retrospective look at an iconic 1990s alternative rock album.

In Defense Of: Imagine Dragons

Any mention of Imagine Dragons seems to elicit a reaction of immediate disgust, but the group has played an integral role in bringing alternative rock to the masses.

Rockommend

After an April 2022 performance in Afterhours, Blu DeTiger will be returning to Boston on November 3rd. The

and she accompanied

in January of 2022. It would make us....

if you didn’t go!

Hardcore

is coming to Boston. The screamo veterans are currently on tour promoting their

release The Romance of

You do NOT want to miss this show!!

Maude Latour, Paradise Rock Club

Photo by Mukki Gill (Mechanical Engineering and History)

Babe Rainbow, Crystal Ballroom

Photo by Kelly Thomas (Environmental Science)

Queen Elizabeth’s reign ended on September 8th, 2022, precipitating a series of vastly opposing reflections upon her rule, but one aspect remains unarguable: throughout her time as reigning monarch, she elicited some of this past century’s best music.

The British Monarchy has become increasingly unpopular in recent years for younger generations of British citizens. According to the survey by YouGov, 41% of those aged 18-24 believe there should be a new elected official as the head of state as opposed to a member of the royal family. This sentiment, however, is universally understood by older generations who struggled under monarchist rule. For many living in the United Kingdom, the monarchy represents established colonialist ideals which continue to systematically affect them.

Music tells a distinct story of how marginalized groups have historically suffered under the queen’s rule, as the monarchy extended its colonial grasp domestically and globally. Elizabeth’s reign experienced numerous historical events, including but not limited to; the aftermath of Indian Independence in the 50s, The Irish Troubles (1968–1998), floods of refugees in the 2010s, and, most recently, Brexit. Music, for many artists directly affected by these events or for those who stood in solidarity with these groups, became a form of protest — a mode through which they could express dissatisfaction or outrage at the crown and all it represents amid the turbulence of the past century.

The Sex Pistols practically brought England down with “God Save the Queen,” possibly one of the boldest statements against the crown of its time. They took a line from the British national anthem and subverted it into lyrics that gravely condemn the queen as a relic and representation of fascism. Lead singer John Lydon sings,

As creators of Britain’s 70s punk rock movement, the outspoken punk band influenced the growing anti-establishment sentiment among younger people at the time — encouraging them to question authority. Over the years “God Save the Queen” has become an anthem in itself and continues to inspire generations of anti-monarchists.

Irish artists including The Cranberries, Sinead O’Connor, and Kneecap have been particularly outspoken about violence they experienced at the hands of the British Monarchy. One of The Cranberries’ most prominent tracks, “Zombie,” released in 1994, denounced the extremism perpetrated by both the IRA (Irish Republican Army) and the British troops. Lead singer Dolores

O’Riordan, sings “Another head hangs lowly / Child is slowly taken / And the violence, caused such silence / Who are we mistaken?”

The urgency of the song combines with O’Riordan’s forceful vocals to express the pain felt across Ireland every time violence breaks out — she almost pleads to the listener, “It’s the same old theme / Since 1916 / In your head, in your head, they’re still fighting.” At the end of The Irish Troubles, the band performed “Zombie” at the 1998 Nobel Peace Prize ceremony — a testament to their role in the peace process.

Contemporary artists have continued to critique the crown through their craft. Kneecap, a hip hop trio based in Belfast, are outspoken in their rage against British injustices, rapping in both English and Irish. Their single “C.E.A.R.T.A” directly refers to ‘cearta teanga,’ meaning ‘language rights,’ specifically the right to speak Irish as a language just as viable socially and politically as English. Utilizing the Irish language itself as a form of protest, the band seeks to break boundaries and elicit discomfort for the sake of their message.

In their music, British artists M.I.A. and Riz Ahmed respond to the racism continuously perpetuated by the monarchy, unafraid to discuss their backgrounds in the context of Britain’s history of white supremacy and colonialism.

On his 2016 song “Englistan,” released under the stage name Riz MC, Ahmed reflects on the internal conflict of his Pakistani-British background.

His critique of the monarchy emphasizes the cultural elitism and treatment of immigrants, particularly how the two interact as he says, “So big up the queen’s Christmas speech / And all the shit her kids get for free / Big up the stiff upper lip half ‘cause we’re posh / Half off the class a’s and bass drops / Big up the class born to rule / All in the same class since boarding school / We only all in it together to watch X factor / And penalty shootouts that we lose / Hair of the dog, or beard for your God / After mosque or pub, it’s curry and kebab.”

The Smiths’ controversial 1986 album “The Queen Is Dead” served some alternative purposes for the band, but nevertheless contains an abundance of anti-royalism. The album sought to primarily humiliate, as opposed to attack the Crown, the band describes then-Prince Charles crossdressing, envious of his mother’s power. Morissey sings, “I say, Charles, don’t you ever crave / To appear on the front of the Daily Mail / Dressed in your mother’s bridal veil?”

Moving forward, the discourse surrounding the monarchy will continue to play a role in British music — may King Charles’ already controversial reign continue to inspire musical critique.

• Sophia Haydon-Khan (International Affairs)

Designer: Sarah Liu ( Journalism )

The Sonics of Cyberspace: Music in the Metaverse

The Metaverse: the digital future full of new technology, dystopian culture, corporate greed, and… music? The countless metaverses in development, from Meta’s titular system to NVIDIA and even Roblox and Fortnite, are on the vanguard of virtual connection seen by many as the future of society. And just like technological innovations of the past — from industrialization to the internet — art, architecture, and, of course, music will play a pivotal role. From shaping how creators interact with listeners to potentially redesigning how sound is created, the metaverse is poised to fundamentally alter the way we consume music.

The Metaverse itself has been a concept in science fiction for decades, dating back to 1992 in Neal Stephenson’s novel “Snow Crash.” There, the “metaverse” was seen as an inhabitable 3D evolution of the internet where people could interact in digital spaces in the same ways as real life. This then-revolutionary idea has persisted through other interpretations of a digital universe, including Ernest Cline’s “Ready Player One” in 2011, where a metaverse-like alternate dimension basically replaces the real world. In reality, this technology is much farther away than we think. When compared to a fully realized 3D digital world complete with avatars and unique environments, most technology today is limited to small VR and AR gaming worlds or isolated virtual experiences, complete with cryptocurrency and NFTs. Even inhabitable VR spaces such as Decentraland, The Sandbox, and Cryptovoxels still function mostly like video games, and have yet to become legitimate examples of fully functional cyberspace.

As infant tech eager to prove its viability, the metaverse still needs to be legitimized for the masses – and music has already played an integral role in this. In one of Facebook’s first moves in its rebrand to Meta and announcement of the metaverse, they used live music events as a key advertising technique. To convince us of the technology’s promise, Mark Zuckerberg used the possibility of joining a friend in a concert across the world. With simple VR technology, live music can become a baseline for virtual connection — if someone can have as amazing an experience at a metaverse concert as they can at a real live show, then surely the technology brings people together. Indelibly, music is already integral to the social success of the metaverse.

Some such metaverse music projects have already been realized. Travis Scott’s April 2020 virtual concert for Fortnite was one of the first mass-attendable virtual events, and Lil Nas X pulled a similar move with Roblox later that year. Both were attended by around 30 million users, a figure that far surpasses any live event previously possible. Along with similar events by the likes of Marshmello and Ariana Grande, these events existed in typical video game settings with little to no VR connectivity. But as fully-functional digital concert experiences, these projects demonstrate the early success of massive virtual music events.

Megan Thee Stallion’s project “Enter Thee Hottieverse”, a limited VR concert experience running in theaters from April to July of 2022, is a different, and more advanced, approach to such an experience. Attendees were each equipped with a VR set and experienced a “personal” concert while in a collective space. While more limited than

massive Roblox concerts, the event’s fully immersive digital space with original footage and animation was a step forward for interactive VR music. But with limited actual environmental interaction once the music began, “Enter Thee Hottieverse” begs the question of how users should physically interface with music in the metaverse. Should it fully replace a live concert experience, with full interaction capabilities with other people, the stage, and the concert itself? Should it be just viewership based like previous virtual concerts? At what point do metaverse concerts become more akin to a 3D music video than a real live show?

Concerts and “live” music are not the only way the music industry can interact with a digital world. A technology as advanced as a futuristic, constantly running cyberspace could mean equally as revolutionary advancements in music creation itself. Could music even be made in the metaverse, and not just performed? Digital communication, whether via avatars or standard interfaces, could lead to a new level of globalized interaction between artists, producers, and designers that is still impossible today. Virtual meetings have been able to replicate studio work in the past, particularly seen during the Covid pandemic, but an extra level of VR interaction accompanied by new interface tech could result in entirely new outcomes. The physical security of a metaverse might even mean that artists could interact with listeners in a similar way they do producers, directly working and creating with fans but in a digital space. This has already begun to happen, with streaming giant Spotify recently debuting “Hip-Hop Island” on Roblox, a fully autonomous space for fans to virtually “dance,” collect unique digital merch, and even create music. The ways that music is recorded could completely change as well, and there is no way to know exactly how sound will be processed technologically in a metaverse scenario. With such complex technology, maybe an entirely novel computer system for processing sound will need to be invented, one that wouldn’t exist otherwise. Any such invention could result in untold levels of musical innovation.

As promising as such a future is, there are countless seemingly insurpassible obstacles to obtaining such artistic freedom. A true metaverse experience inherently relies on a digitization of our human senses, so far only possible through the aforementioned VR and, to a lesser extent, AR. However, both these systems are still quite expensive to consumers and damaging to people with visual and auditory disabilities, creating inequitable access to such a cyberspace. While tech CEOs are unlikely to be concerned with issues of economic justice and equity, the question remains if such a supposedly world-changing metaverse is worth existing at all if everyone can’t participate. The same holds true for music — streaming is widely accessible, concerts are usually affordable and physically accessible, but what if a significant portion of the music industry moves to an inaccessible platform? Only a few types of music could exist in a space so inaccessible and elite.

With fewer people able to access the metaverse, monopolization of the platform would also hinder the possibility of music making an impact. If only a few companies, or even just one, control the entire space, they also control everyone’s access to its media, including live

events and all digital listening. A single financial ownership means only one system is in place for listenership, meaning almost all innovation is off the table. How can artists exist freely and create freely if under a single system?

So far, the metaverse lacks definition, especially when it comes to music. But even though there is yet to be a ubiquitously inhabitable virtual space, music has already played a vital role. From advertising to proof of concept, virtual concerts and innovative VR experiences have shaped the public perception of the metaverse’s viability. As questions surrounding the morality, feasibility, and purpose of such a fully-functioning metaverse continue to mount, it’s possible that the main proven success of the platform, live music, will become the only non-gaming purpose of the metaverse at all.

Designer: Xin Li (Design)

• Ethan Matthews (Architecture)

Many movies inspire songs, but how often is it the other way around? For filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson, singer-songwriter Aimee Mann was the perfect inspiration. Her crooning voice and vulnerable lyrics spurred Anderson to sit down one day and write a screenplay based on her music, eventually becoming his 1999 drama “Magnolia”.

The film runs a glorious 188 minutes with an ensemble cast of about 20 interconnected characters, specifically depicting a mosaic of one day of these characters’ lives. Despite the large cast, “Magnolia” masterfully handles delicate matters like cancer, drug addiction, and mental illness, all through intense monologues and dialogues. Equally as important in the film is Mann’s music. Anderson contacted Mann after writing Magnolia’s screenplay and asked if she would consider

providing some original music for the film’s soundtrack. With 9 of her songs featured, 2 songs written for the film, a line of dialogue interpolated from one of her lyrics, and an entire character based on her music, “Magnolia” is more than inspired by Aimee Mann: it’s an ode to her craft.

When discussing her collaboration with Anderson, Mann said, “I’d give Paul rough mixes of songs and I’d write songs without thinking they’d be in a movie. But we were kind of talking about the same kinds of things. The same kind of characters he writes about are the same sort of characters I write about.”

The character Mann inspired is Claudia Gator, a drug-addicted and depressed young woman who is one of the enemble’s nine principal characters. In the liner notes of the “Magnolia” soundtrack, Anderson writes, “All stories for the movie were written branching off of Claudia, so one could do the math and realize that all stories come from Aimee’s brain, not mine. […] You can look at the movie as the perfect memento to remember the songs that Aimee has made.”

Mann’s lyrics are both spoken and sung by the film’s characters, showing that her work impacted more than just how Anderson crafted each of their personas. Claudia delivers one of the most famous lines in the film: “Now that you’ve met me, would you object to never seeing me again?” This line is an interpolation of a lyric from Mann’s “Deathly,” a track that also plays in the film. Claudia is additionally heard blasting Mann’s “Momentum” on a speaker, and even begins a gorgeous, emotional scene with each of the nine main characters singing a line from Mann’s “Wise Up.” This occurs about two-thirds of the way into the film, after each of their plots climax. “Wise Up” implies that each of the characters are learning from their respective mistakes or are feeling defeated, and are now telling themselves that “it’s not going to stop ‘til you wise up,” as the song’s chorus goes.

“Deathly ” and “Wise Up” aren’t even the shiniest stars of this star-studded film. The iconic intro to the film includes Mann’s stunning cover of Harry Nillson’s “One.” Additionally, Mann’s “Save Me,” which was written for the film, plays over the end credits, and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song. The track’s lyrics discuss the simultaneous desire for and fear of love — a feeling that most, if not all, of the characters experience.

“Magnolia” begins with a prologue that sets up the film’s major theme: nothing happens by chance. The same goes for the musical curation of the film — nothing was done on a whim. Mann’s music is carefully sprinkled throughout the film, with each track full of intent for when and wherever it’s played. In addition to the 2 songs Mann wrote for the film, 7 of her other songs are on the soundtrack, and 3 out of the 9 songs are played in their entirety, all of which are extremely rare for a film, and especially in this magical combination. Without her music, the film wouldn’t exist. Anderson’s deeply flawed and intricate characters artfully reflect the vulnerability and skill of Mann’s work. Her music is beyond inspiration for “Magnolia”; it becomes just as, if not more than, integral to the film as its characters.

• Lacie Foreht (Communication and Media Screen Studies)

 Local Talent

Alden McWayne aka Gucci Pineapple

With over 300,000 followers across TikTok and Instagram, Alden McWayne — known online as Gucci Pineapple — is an instantly-recognizable icon among college-aged Bostonians. Though he started out making comedic TikToks, the Berklee-trained drummer has quickly proven that he is just as musically talented as he is hilarious. Gucci and his brother Dana, a saxophonist and keyboardist, released Brothers, a 7-song jazz-inspired EP, in 2021 under the name Dana and Alden. The aptly-titled duo is currently planning to record and release a full-length album in 2023.

Gucci, now entering his fourth and final year at Berklee, recently sat down with Tastemakers Magazine to talk about Fortnite, being “chronically offline,” and playing jazz for indie kids at house shows.

This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

Tastemakers Magazine (TMM): What have you been listening to recently?

Gucci Pineapple (GP): This morning I was listening to Evermore by Taylor Swift… I think a lot of people hear my music and assume I only listen to jazz. But I love trap and pop too.

TMM: Who’s your favorite trap artist right now?

GP: I like NBA Youngboy. I listen to him when I play Fortnite! I’m such a fucking middle schooler, dude… I was chronically offline in high school. I was a hippie kid. I grew up kind of granola, like not much technology. And then the last two years, I discovered the internet, so like I found out about Pop Smoke, Pop Smoke’s great. Fortnite’s great. I wish I was on the Pokemon Go wave, I was offline for Pokemon Go.

TMM: So you were chronically offline before coming to Berklee?

GP: Yeah, I would say until the pandemic. I was a little shyer my

freshman year. I was not really making content or anything online. I was more focused on being like a serious jazz musician. But I think one of my most important revelations during the pandemic was I don’t have to be a serious professional musician. I kind of let go of making serious traditional jazz, and I started to make more Neo-Soul and more experimental music and to just have fun and be silly on the drums. And I feel like that’s when it really clicked. At the same time, I started making comedy content during the pandemic. I downloaded TikTok, made videos, and then started to incorporate music… I kind of thought of my comedic content as having potential online, but my

music just being for school. So, as soon as a music TikTok did well, it shattered my brain. I was like ‘Woah I can put my music on TikTok?’

TMM: Are you hoping to keep evolving your musical career through TikTok?

GP: I feel like TikTok is kind of like a cheat code for music. It can just amplify and spread your music, so I want to keep utilizing that tool. I feel so blessed to have a TikTok audience that will stream my Spotify and stuff. I’m hoping to record a debut album with my brother over Christmas break and hopefully push it out and spread it via TikTok.

TMM: I saw you perform at a house show last weekend –

GP: That was a wild night.

TMM: Yeah I’ve never seen kids going so hard to jazz.

GP: I used to think that only punk or indie rock would appeal to a house show crowd, so it’s super refreshing and surprising to see a house show crowd move and cheer and freak out for jazz and soul. It’s crazy.

TMM: Do you feel like you’re maybe introducing a new audience to jazz in some ways?

GP: I think I am. I mean probably most of the jazz audience in the world, I would say, is between like 40 and 70 [years old]. So I feel like by putting it on TikTok and exposing it to Gen Z, I’m kind of appealing to a new audience and tapping into a new demographic.

TMM: Where do you think you’re taking the genre?

GP: If I had to describe our genre it’d kinda be like TikTok Acid Jazz. It’s just a label that comes to mind for me because I feel like we’re influenced by a lot of London Acid Jazz like Yussef Dayes. But I feel like by making TikToks and doing covers of Earl Sweatshirt and Kanye West, we’ve taken our sound in that direction of big horns, washy acid sounds, and synths.

TMM: Those covers of Earl and Kanye are some of your most popular videos online. How do you choose the songs you cover, and are you looking for things you think will go viral?

GP: Definitely. I’m definitely looking for a song that has kind of a cult following, that’s maybe 5-10 years old, that a lot of people can sing along to, but is also a little niche and indie… I listen for a melody or a rap verse that can be easily translated to a horn line.

TMM: Students in Boston must be recognizing and approaching you all the time. Do you ever feel like people are expecting the persona from your TikToks during an interaction with you?

GP: Yeah, I feel like people do expect me to be, like, ‘in character’ because they see these TikToks where I’m silly or I’m being wholesome to strangers. So I feel like they almost expect me to be like

that, which is valid because if I was rude to someone on the street, it completely contradicts everything I’m doing online. And on my end, I want to have those types of interactions with people, I want to have a positive interaction with someone almost because it is kind of like my brand, but also it’s what feels good to me. It’s how my mom taught me to interact with people, like my mom is always talking to strangers and gassing them up. People are like ‘are you in character?’ but it’s just my personality. It comes very naturally.

TMM: Do you feel like your kind of bubbly, comedic persona influences your music?

GP: Oh, for sure. I feel like I would describe my drumming as, like, rambunctious. One of my favorite drummers is Brian Blade. What I love about his drumming is it was so spontaneous and joyful. I feel like I try to emulate that, like I’ll hit the cymbal and I just try to put all of my joy into that one hit. I feel like when I’m on stage with my brother or with my band here in Boston or even in my bedroom recording a TikTok, I just try to be in the moment and emulate that joy. Every time I play music it’s like a rush of dopamine. It feels like a blessing to just be at my dream school, just making music with my best friends.

• Desmond LaFave (Journalism and Media & Screen Studies)

Designer: Dewi Kalis ( Computer Science and Design )

Japanese Breakfast, Roadrunner

Photo by Coby Sugars (International Business)

underrated artist:

francis of delirium

Discovering a new band or artist from the opening act of a concert isn’t rare. In all honesty, it’s what you hope for if you decide to get to a show when the doors open. What is rare is getting the feeling that you’ve seen the full show when an opener leaves the stage — that they’ll be a tough act to follow. That’s exactly what I felt when I saw The Districts in April and heard Francis of Delirium for the first time.

Francis of Delirium is a grunge-infused indie pop-rock band based in Luxembourg headed by 20-year-old frontwoman Jana Bahrich and supported by 50-year-old drummer and collaborator, Chris Hewett. Though inspired by a distinctly 90s Pacific Northwest sound, Francis of Delirium has its finger on the pulse of current indie rock — the result of the pair’s respective ages and influences. In addition to taking clear inspiration from alternative acts from the 90s like Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins, they also reflect present day acts like Car Seat Headrest and Lucy Dacus. The band’s music is confident and guitar-heavy with anthemic, expressive lyrics and harmonies that fit smoothly into each melody.

At first, what surprised me most about the band wasn’t the fact that the drummer was so much older than the frontwoman (though that was shocking) – it was how much of the crowd already knew the lyrics to their songs. Setting aside the lucky few who had already seen them live, this is thanks to both Bahrich’s crowd work and the band’s songwriting. The group was immediately charming, wearing chef’s hats and Bahrich’s hand-painted overalls, but, more importantly, they weren’t afraid of pulling the audience into the music with them. The songs “Quit Fucking Around” and “Let It All Go” are both clearly personal, discussing the end of relationships, but the melancholy is skillfully balanced out by each song’s catchiness. Francis of Delirium’s lyrics resonate with their audience, allowing them to sing along and share the moment with the band rather than just listen and wait for the opener to be finished.

While the band only has three EPs out, each one shows their increasing musical promise, with the 2021 EP Wading and the 2022 release The Funhouse being the most exciting. Some tracks are stronger than others –the lyricism specifically in Francis of Delerium’s older songs (“Equality Song,” for example) leave some subtlety to be desired — but looking back on these tracks highlights just how much growth the band has undergone in merely two years’ time. What remains constant across the band’s short discography, however, is the maturity of their overall sound. Whether this is the result of Bahrich’s talent, Hewett’s experience, or a combination of the two is uncertain, but what one can be certain about is just how much power comes from each chord.

Even if this is the first time you’ve heard of Francis of Delirium, it certainly will not be the last. Their current releases have already been recognized by Pitchfork, KEXP, Paste, FADER, Radio 1, and more. After wrapping up their U.S. tour with The Districts and Vanillaroma in April, Bahrich and Hewett have continued touring Europe supporting Soccer Mommy as well as playing headlining shows throughout the fall and winter. With their debut album on its way, Francis of Delirium is just getting started.

Song Recommendations:

“All Love,” “The Funhouse,” “Let It All Go”

• Sarah Lambodi (English and Media and Screen Studies)

• Designer: Juliana LaPara ( Design )

The Strokes

At the eclipse of the 1990s rock era saturated with grunge and grimy rebellion, five boys in skinny jeans with thinly-veiled trust funds decided to revive the spirit of the 1970s. Arriving just in time for the new millenium, frontman Julian Casablancas, bassist Nikolai Fraiture, drummer Fabrizio Moretti, and guitarists Albert Hammond Jr. and Nick Valensi resuscitated New York’s garage rock scene, spiking it with splashes of irony and style. Their music managed to capture the warm-blooded pulse of Manhattan, speaking to both those who lived the city hustle and those who could only dream of it. Each of The Strokes’ albums have surpassed the sum of their minimalist parts and have served as a microcosm of the struggles of the modern age. With a career sparked by a mesmerizing debut and being currently bookended with a more recent return to form, there is a song for everyone within their discography.

Is This It (2001)

Widely regarded as one of the greatest modern debut albums, Is This It set aflame the underground rock scene, and subsequently the nation’s airwaves. The Strokes were the antithesis of everything the rock movement had previously championed. Julian Casablancas’ father, John Casablancas, owned the modeling agency Elite Model Management and can be credited with the creation of the supermodel and, arguably, the ensuing culture of privileged consumerism. The band’s formation exclusively took place in private preparatory schools and was initially sponsored by Albert Hammond Jr.’s father, singer Albert Hammond Sr. While cynics refused to look past The Strokes’ high society connections and disgruntled-preppy attire, Is This It revealed the band’s true essence: brazen, candid, idiosyncratic, referential.

The album opens with the title track, “Is This It,” the perfectly succinct question that represented America’s melancholy in a post9/11 world. With New York City being such an integral part of The Strokes’ artistry, they were also obligated to relay the faults of the world’s most enthralling city. “The Modern Age” and “Soma” detail a fatal attraction to drugs and lust, likely inspired by the band’s time living in the heroin capital of New York, Alphabet City.

Although The Strokes proved their capability of creating deeper, subject-matter driven tracks, the album predominantly set the baseline for their characteristic sound of hazy crooning peppered with heavy bass, synths, and retro tropes. This is best represented in their most popular song, “Last Nite,” which follows a relationship crumbling into what will likely turn into a night of becoming “elegantly wasted”— a term the Rolling Stones so accurately once assigned to their nighttime prowess. It was this intersection of charm and elusiveness that afforded The Strokes the entourage of SNL cast members and models that would continue to follow them throughout their career.

Recommended Tracks:

“The Modern Age,” “Barely Legal,” “Hard to Explain”

Room on Fire(2003)

Caught amidst a label bidding war during its creation, The Strokes’ second studio album Room on Fire revealed the first signs of a history of disinterest within the band. Like the kids in elementary school who couldn’t stay focused on any given task for longer than a minute, the clamor of business meetings and executive decisions gave them the out they wanted. Hammond and Casablancas became habitual drug users while Valensi and Moretti were caught up in whirlwind romances (with Amanda de Cadenet and Drew Barrymore!).

Room on Fire succeeded the essence of Is This It, but listeners averse to The Strokes’ sudden popularity were quick to brand the album as formulaic. In reality, the album showcases talents like Valensi’s ability to create instantly captivating guitar riffs, such as the brutish pulse of “Reptilia,” and Moretti’s well-spaced drumming that went previously unnoticed. Despite the perception that The Strokes were careless and purely spontaneous towards their craft, each member, especially Casablancas, exercised tight control over their sound and public persona. Room on Fire, even at its few weak moments, sits atop the learning curve as each member honed in on what was best regarded in their debut. For Casablancas, this meant cleaner vocal performances and the development of his easily discernible songwriting. “Automatic Stop’’ is a near-perfect example of a track that possesses the bone structure of a typical, good Strokes songs; alternating major and minor chords with heavy, rhythmic guitar layered beneath a tale of a can’t-get-enough mutual infatuation. This album was the product of the band officially defining their sound, but this was only to be subverted in their next few albums.

Recommended Tracks: “Reptilia,” “Automatic Stop,” “Meet Me in the Bathroom”

Designer: Haidyn Redmond (Marketing and Design)

First Impressions of Earth (2006)

In the arena of rock music, mainstream acceptance tends to tarnish the possibility of joining the legendary. Still high-achieving prep school kids at heart, a dissonance formed between the bandmates and their love for music when they realized they may never be regarded with the same reverence as their rock influences: greats like The Velvet Underground most notably, as well as The Ramones, Sonic Youth, and Guided by Voices.

Arriving in 2006, The Strokes released First Impressions of Earth at a time they would all likely reflect back on as outright bizarre. The late-twenties are an odd coexistence of drunkenness, milestones, and watching the people who you once nursed while hungover nurse their own, and these contradictions were only exacerbated by being omnipresent members of New York City’s premier rock band. Recording sessions became sparse and the will to challenge themselves dissolved as their label RCA Records, to which they were bound for five records, interfered with what The Strokes valued above all else: their freedom. First Impressions of Earth heavily relies on the formula they distilled early on with an added layer of erratic experimentation (they were in their twenties after all).

On the hook of “Juicebox,” Casablancas exchanges his characteristic pouty, mumblesing for screeching, and again on “Vision of Division” and “Fear of Sleep.” This album also features a member audiences were not used to hearing at the forefront of their music — while in the past The Strokes have favored guitar and synth heavy production, Moretti’s drums are consistently prominent.

First Impressions of Earth’s best moments are easily distinguishable because they ring of New York City’s juxtaposed glamor and squalor. Tracks like “Vision of Division” exudes the grungy nihilism characteristic of NYC rock while “Razorblade” and “Electricityscape” beguile the listener with the sunny bounce of a Sunday in the Hamptons. The Strokes have always been at their most appealing when they provide glimpses of the contradictory lives they have the privilege of living; slumming with the punk scene in trashy dives by day only to retreat to the high rises at night.

Recommended Tracks: “You Only Live Once,” “Razorblade,” “Electricityscape”

Angles (2011)

If First Impressions of Earth was The Strokes’ somber declaration that their reputations as the fresh faces of the New York scene had soured, Angels shouted it from the rooftops. Preoccupied with his solo album during the Angles studio sessions, Casablancas’ vocal recordings were infamously recorded separately from the band and emailed with vague semblances of instructions. Once the band had lost the interest of its frontman, the other quickly ensued, making the process of creating the album nothing more than obligatory.

Angles was intended to mark The Strokes’ resurrection after a five year hiatus with the proposition that their music would be credited more equally, but Casablancas rolled his eyes at these attempts of making the band a democracy. Valensi had even gone on record prior to the album’s release claiming the recording process had been “awful” and saying, “75 percent of this album felt like it was done together and the rest of it was left hanging, like some of us were picking up the scraps and trying to finish a puzzle together.”

Having reached the fame they did by cosplaying the rambunctious cool kids who could afford not to care, their airtight creative process seemed to have entangled itself with this persona. Over the course of ten songs they sound scattered and amidst a musical identity crisis. The operative clause of The Strokes has always been that the band must be in unity; with the album serving as a time capsule for the band’s tensest moments, Angles has almost entirely been left in the shadows throughout the continuation of their career.

Recommended Tracks:

“Life is Simple in the Moonlight,” “Under Cover Of Darkness”

Comedown Machine (2013)

Stamped across the cover of Comedown Machine in enlarged lettering reads RCA. Then, much smaller, the band’s name. Then, even smaller, the album name. The Strokes have always had their own niche sense of humor that no one outside the band could quite decipher, but the impudent message of the Comedown Machine cover flagrantly announced to both executives and audiences alike that they were done cheapening their craft for the motives of record labels. This state of retribution was also extended to the sect of the public who thought it was cool to hate The Strokes. Although their hipster, girlfriend-stealing image had always been at the forefront of their music, their pursuit of indie rock was earnest and academic and they refused to be deemed imitators.

Influenced by a revered-lineage of indie rock groups along with genres like vintage soul and blues, The Strokes were unassuming music nerds. Crediting greats like Sam Cooke, Freddie King, and Buddy Holly for their concocted sound and receiving a coveted stamp of approval from Lou Reed of the Velvet Underground, the Strokes were legitimately well-cultured and Comedown Machine was their proof.

The album abandoned all inhibitions as they shifted the spotlight from their underwhelming past experimentation to their pure musicianship. The Strokes were finally proud to be The Strokes again, and their sound reflected it. They had managed to create a record where shoegaze ballad “80s Comedown Machine” and disco-funk tune “Tap Out” could comfortably coexist with a track like “Call It Fate, Call It Karma,” a hallucinatory take on bossa nova.

Recommended Tracks: “Call It Fate, Call It Karma”, “Tap Out”, “80s Comedown Machine”

The New Abnormal (2020)

Following the release of Comedown Machine, The Strokes had become rock’s newest recluse act. Behind the scenes, however, the band was undergoing a rebirth overseen by illustrious producer and professional artist rejuvenator Rick Rubin. Seven years after their last studio album, The Strokes had created a project that reaffirmed their music to be a time capsule for the modern age. The album cover nostalgically sports the blue and yellow of Is This It in the form of a Basquiat painting — a choice that simultaneously bookends and begins an era. With a title that perfectly encapsulates the current cultural zeitgeist, The New Abnormal is The Strokes marking an end to navigating our incredibly nuanced world with the immaturity they once did. Each of the band members, especially Casablancas, have been deliberate with voicing support for political figures and causes. Because they believe art and music are escapist mediums for themselves and others from the “absurdity of life,” the tracks on the album take on more implicit, allegorical forms. The opening track “The Adults are Talking,” a seemingly innocuous and catchy hit, is the band’s Orwellian critique on how institutions of authority have infantilized the public they are meant to serve. In the same vein, “At the Door” speaks to the fatigue of living in a clamoring world while “Endless Summer” warns of the foreboding climate crisis. The album is the greatest break in facade audiences have seen from the Strokes as they also open the floodgates to the tender emotions of their past two decades together. “Ode to the Mets” particularly stands out as a beautifully reflective track that regails the band’s coming-of-age in New York City. The nine songs on the record are not a far departure from their lolling bops, but there’s an undeniable glow present — a sort of coalescence of the perfect summer, sunset, and Sunday. The Strokes will continue to allow these beacons to shine through their nihilism as they re-enter the realm of rock inspirators of the next generation.

Recommended Tracks: “Selfless,” “At the Door,” Ode to the Mets

• Ananya Chaudhari (Economics and Finance)

Taste Of Nostalgia

Released July 27, 1993

smashing pumpkins siamese dream

The year is 1993, and every person you know who listens to alternative rock is talking about The Smashing Pumpkins. Comprised of Billy Corgan, James Iha, D’arcy Wretzky, and Jimmy Chamberlin, the band started out in Chicago and rose to popularity not because they were the new cool kids, but because they weren’t. The Smashing Pumpkins were critical in bringing about a new era within alternative rock, reconnecting with a younger generation of listeners. Their first album, Gish, was released in 1991 to crucial acclaim, but few could have foreseen just how impactful their sophomore project would be.

Siamese Dream is considered today to be one of the defining albums for alt-rock and cemented The Smashing Pumpkins’ spot in music history. Much of the album focuses on internal struggles with longing, finding oneself, growing up, and other existential themes the 1990s were rife with. While listeners today may find these concepts cliche, the alt-rock scene that The Smashing Pumpkins came up in did not have artists who exposed painful emotions through music. From the outset of the album, “Cherub Rock” commands attention and directs anger towards the music media for relentlessly attacking and scrutinizing the band. However, this track is more a primer than a main thematic element, as almost every other track deals with personal and intra-band struggles.

The themes within Siamese Dream pull largely from the events in lead songwriter Corgan’s life at the time: Iha and Wretzky had recently been through a messy breakup, Corgan was dangerously depressed, and Chamberlin was addicted to heroin. All of these factors contributed directly to the album’s sound, and formed the backbone of the lyrics. Songs like “Rocket,” “Disarm,” and “Mayonaise” concern Corgan’s depression and feelings of inadequacy, resulting in painfully honest lyrics. Other tracks, such

as “Hummer” and “Geek U.S.A.” deal with longing and trying to make yourself better for the ones you love.

The entire sound of the album balances and melds incredibly complex instrumental layers and vocals. Tracks are heavy on drums and guitar, topped by Corgan’s breathless delivery. His voice can become lost in the withering drumlines and guitar solos, but it always seems to find its way through, well exemplified by the bridge on “Quiet.” Nearly every song pushes the limits of what alt-rock was at the time, combining deeply personal lyrics with instrumentals swinging between subdued drums backing finger-picked, reverb-heavy guitars and all-out drumming with multiple guitars layered over each other. These variations could — and often did — occur all within one trck, creating an unforgettable listening experience.

While there is so much pain evident within lyrics on Siamese Dream, the album would not have featured equally emotional and powerful instrumentals if Corgan hadn’t been so distressed. His songwriting process during the album’s creation pulled lyric concepts from his time in therapy, heavily informing the resulting tracks. The recording process largely kept him alive through a dark period in his life, and so his perfectionist streak came out in full force. Every track was tirelessly worked over again and again by Corgan and legendary producer Butch Vig. Corgan was seen as a tyrant during the process — a not wholly untrue title — and ended up rerecording most of the instrumentals himself rather than trying to work with his bandmates on retakes. However, at the cost of keeping the album anywhere near economical, the neurotic attention to detail resulted in genuinely perfected tracks. It ran grossly over its initial budget, but ended up being worth it: Siamese Dream went four-times platinum in the U.S.

and became one of the most successful albums of the 1990s.

An unexpected consequence of the album was the ostracization that The Smashing Pumpkins faced from other alt rock and grunge bands after its release. Corgan was called uncool by established names like Sonic Youth for his choice to make music that dealt with mental health, and other acts complained to the media that the band was grossly overrated. If anything, this response from already famous acts only served to secure The Smashing Pumpkins’ spot as one of the most influential and impactful alt-rock artists of all time. Their status as alt-rock giants would be settled upon the release of Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, a triumphant double album that showcased the band’s ability to work as a team.

Although there are criticisms that the drums on Gish were better or that Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness was more cohesive and impressive, their 1993 breakout holds a special place in The Smashing Pumpkins oeuvre. Siamese Dream and its unique, raw vulnerability feels more important today than any of their other albums. It laid the groundwork for a new type of mainstream music where artists didn’t need to build up walls around themselves to maintain a cool-guy status: instead, all the emotion was left in the song, with rock ensembles that matched it perfectly. While The Smashing Pumpkins complete lineup would only last a few more years, Siamese Dream is still here — and still an album worth listening to.

• Terrance Dumoulin (Civil Engineering and Architectural Studies)

Designed by: Camille Wimpe ( Architecture)

Remi Wolf, Roadrunner

Photo by Amanda Stark (Behavioral Neuroscience)

Flume, Roadrunner

Photo by Sammie Cirillo (Environmental Science)

Fiona Apple has never been an easy artist to categorize. Her eccentric, ever-changing style is one that has captivated audiences for decades, from dense and moody debut Tidal (1996) to the wonderfully boisterous Fetch The Bolt Cutters (2020). It’s no surprise that her timeless nature has attracted a new, younger cohort of fans, especially with the rise of TikTok and the app’s ability to share music with ease. The release of Fetch The Bolt Cutters resulted in a renaissance of discovery for Apple’s music across the internet, with eager teenage music bloggers and social commentators fervently diving into her work, both old and new.

At the same time, another cultural movement experienced a rise in popularity. The acceptance and even celebration of self-destructive and fatalistic behavior, coined as “dissociative feminism,” spread like a crystal-ladened, black coffee-smelling, messy-roomed virus in every corner of the internet. While also mostly taking place on TikTok, esteemed writers and Twitter intellectuals discussed at length the implications of such a movement. Certain pieces of media and clothing suddenly became associated with this cultural shift: the music of Lana Del Rey, the comedy-drama series “Fleabag”, “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” by Otessa Moshegh, and nearly everything about Fiona Apple, to name a few. Flawed female protagonists in nearly every corner of media were praised, with many women relating to and even calling themselves “female manipulators.” While this was supposedly done in jest by many, the phrase was spoken far and wide with varying levels of understanding.

How did Apple become associated with “female manipulators”? Her resurgence in the public eye is partly to blame. Suddenly inundated with Fiona Apple’s mystique, TikTokers reproduced Apple’s sullen, darkly feminine look — muted, monochromatic shades, layered clothes, and dark eye makeup — which had become the fashion of the dissociative feminism movement. While aesthetic inspiration is important, what truly assimilated Apple into the movement was her compelling, uniquely female perspective on desire, heartbreak, trauma, and the self. Many self proclaimed “female manipulators” attached themselves to her ballads, interpreting her words as their own sorrows, heartaches, and angst. Her music was the soundtrack — literally — to many teenage musings on lament and self-destruction through the medium of TikTok.

With an initial rise to stardom at just 17 years old, Apple is no stranger to the criticism that most young women, especially in the music industry, find themselves subjected to. Her unique style, occasional onstage outbursts, and childhood trauma drew in plenty of judgements and disparagers. At the 1998 Grammy Awards, Apple took home three Grammys as a newcomer. During one of her first appearances in the public eye, she gave a speech on the idea of the celebrity in which she stated the world of entertainment was “bullshit,” encouraging watchers to look to themselves for inspiration rather than the fabricated world of the music industry. At the time, tabloids dismissed her insight, calling her hypocritical, neurotic, and immature. As Apple continued to assert herself in public spaces, critics scrutinized her looks and constantly picked at her vulnerabilities. She was often called pretentious for her unconventional artistic choices, and was shamed for naming albums after original poems.

Much of Apple’s music details her struggles with bullying, sexual violence, and objectification throughout her life — pillars that are unfortunately shared experiences among women. But Apple is not defined solely by her struggles, and she wants her listeners and critics to know this:

These words from “Extraordinary Machine” are just one example of how Apple describes her own resilience and the way she works through setbacks. The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do (2012), the full title of Apple’s fourth album, is another machinery metaphor that details the way Apple operates and continues to move forward. As much as her music is about hardship, so much of her writing is life-affirming, resilient, and forceful. She is blatantly honest, whether it is about personal philosophies or relationships, including that with herself. Her breadth as an artist is what makes her works timeless, and what continues to attract fans who can connect with her lived experiences, both positive and negative.

To the horror of those who made frequent six-second commentaries, messy room journeys, and “hot girl bedside table” tours, Apple’s music disappeared from TikTok in late August without a trace. While some speculated a licensing issue could be at play, others theorized the removal was enacted by the artist herself to counteract an unflattering, reductive understanding of her music.

Apple hasn’t commented on the removal. She tends to live a fairly private life, with limited interviews and social media presence. That being said, theories of licensing disagreements can be debunked through a deal that Sony Music Group, Apple’s record label, made with TikTok in 2020, allowing the app to use the label’s entire catalog.

It is no secret that society is especially cruel to young women. It can be disheartening to simply exist, and there are times when lament is appropriate. That being said, a form of defeatism and lament disguised as “feminism” can be destructive. Dissociative feminists often label themselves as “crazy” and “hysterical” with Fiona Apple’s music scoring the thought. No matter the reason behind the labels, whether a form of reclamation or not, many of them have been used against Apple throughout her career. And by Apple’s forced association with this movement, she has been aestheticized to fit a certain narrative: the image of a hopeless, manic, messy woman that has historically been a harmful trope.

Fiona Apple’s music was removed from a platform that demonized her under the guise of empowerment. Given her history in the limelight and the intense scrutiny she has faced throughout her career, it wouldn’t come as a surprise if it was intentional. Regardless of the reason for her removal, Apple is a complex, multi-faceted artist, and to debase her works to a few labels does a disservice to her virtuosity. She is not a “female manipulator,” and neither are you.

”If there was a better way to go then it would find me I can’t help it, the road just rolls out behind me Be kind to me, or treat me mean I’ll make the most of it, I’m an extraordinary machine”

• Hannah Lowicki (Marketing)

Designer : Alia Ziae-Mohseni (Computer Science and Design)

Have you ever heard a local band describe a new song they’re performing as ‘so shoegaze’ and then perform a basic indie rock track with a distorted electric guitar bridge? If so, you may have been a victim of false advertising. The reality is that shoegaze describes a surprisingly narrow subgenre of music — one in which few high-profile contemporary artists exist entirely within, but countless are influenced by. With such a limited roster of active musicians, why do so many enjoy long lasting relevance in indie and alt circles? To understand why a small group of bands most music enthusiasts have never heard of are largely responsible for the sound of the alt rock bands they love, we must go down the rabbit hole into a subgenre so convoluted that it didn’t even start out as a musical style.

a new way to perform and create

Shoegaze was originally short for shoegazing, a performance style pioneered by the same artists that would soon be defined by the media as shoegaze acts. The way these early groups performed was entirely novel to concert audiences at the time, as every rock and roll, pop, and pretty much any other genre’s performance was exactly that: a spectacle that made live music worth paying for. In contrast, shoegazing put the focus on the music being played, basing the success of a performance on extreme technical prowess rather than jumping around on a stage and masking a mediocre musicianship with flashy showmanship. These unique concerts also brought in a new type of listener: concert goers would often stand still and listen rather than screaming lyrics back or dancing to the music onstage.

As with any semi-obscure subgenre, there is an enormous amount of discourse as to who actually started the movement. There is little argument that shoegaze was an almost entirely UK phenomenon

at the start, but many argue that The Jesus and Mary Chain’s debut album Psychocandy set the stage for the subgenre’s takeoff. Others claim that Cocteau Twins had a lot to do with its start — although in reality they were far more involved with the development of dream pop — and some will flat out deny the subgenre’s existence before my bloody valentine released their debut EP you made me realize in 1988. Either way, shoegaze was the alt rock world’s “it genre” by 1990. Creation Records had essentially exclusive rights to the new sound with my bloody valentine, Slowdive, and Ride — inarguably three of the most important shoegaze acts to ever exist — on their roster. Everything seemed to be looking up for the musical style, and for a while, it was.

The early-to-mid 1990s had a disproportionate effect on contemporary music, and the reverberations of shoegaze from the UK were no exception. My bloody valentine’s Loveless simultaneously redefined and cemented a template for the style in 1991 to the point where it is still viewed as the most significant album of its kind. Both Ride and Slowdive also released multiple groundbreaking albums, but just didn’t hit all the same chords — although Souvlaki from Slowdive is one of the most undeniably shoegaze albums ever made. These acts, amongst several others, took on a cult-like status, partly because of the quality of their music, but equally because of the sheer allure of their concerts. No glitzy performance needed, just a show of raw skills and an impressive guitar pedal set to make crowds go utterly wild. Soon enough, contemporaries of these musical powerhouses began to create music of their own, and the definition of what shoegaze actually was became even more messy.

a little space for big music

Given that shoegaze is representative of both a performance style and a sonic palette, there are many artists that seem to embody the shoegaze performance ethos but definitely do not create shoegaze music. Electronica is particularly guilty in this respect, as many of the most popular acts also mainly stand on stage operating a switchboard and pedals to create ‘live’ compositions. These artists differ significantly from shoegaze in that they aren’t really using traditional rock instruments such as guitars, basses, and drums to create music. While many pure shoegaze acts don’t shy away from using synths and other non-analog instruments in their music much like electronic artists, heavily distorted guitars are essential to the subgenre. A complex bassline or supporting guitar riff is also important, as are the inclusion of drums as a strong backbone to each track. These qualifying factors help to make sense of shoegaze’s development as an offshoot of mid-1980s alt rock and pop, where experimentation in guitar usage and increasingly complex compositions gave rise to something else entirely.

Since shoegaze fills in a small niche between the cracks of alt rock and indie rock, there is frequent misidentification as to whether a guitar-heavy alt rock band may actually be a contributor to the subgenre. The reality is that many artists can have songs or even albums that feel like shoegaze, but still fall short of the full classification. This problem is best exemplified in Sweet Trip, an experimental electronica band formed around the same time that the likes of my bloody valentine and Slowdive had a chokehold on the music world. While the band started out as a pretty standard shoegaze

act with vocals, guitars, and drums, by the time their first album Halica released there was a greater reliance on electronic components than analog instruments. No album the group created was definitively shoegaze, although there are certainly intense walls of sound on Velocity: Design: Comfort. This is not to say that Sweet Trip was lesser than the shoegaze groups which so heavily influenced them — they just developed an equally unique sound that didn’t fit into the mold of an already clearly defined subgenre. While Sweet Trip may not perfectly fit alongside my bloody valentine, the prevalence of such a niche style in their body of work points to the incredible influence of other pure shoegaze bands.

the shoegaze problem

Slowdive, Ride, my bloody valentine, and many of the other great shoegaze bands all suffered from the same problem: a true shoegaze album is not only incredibly expensive to make, but it has a disproportionate effect on the personal relations in the band. While Ride and Slowdive did reform with their original lineups after well over a decade, my bloody valentine is the best example of what creating a shoegaze masterpiece does to those involved. Loveless is almost universally considered as the best shoegaze to come out of the 1990s, and really ever, but the album bankrupted the band’s label and led to a nuclear falling out between the members. While lead Kevin Shields was largely responsible for the mess surrounding the production of the album, there is a general trend that shoegaze bands burn out quickly and do not break up amicably. Maybe it has something to do with how intense the production and recording

Designer: Nick Alonzo (Architecture)

processes are, with takes for a single track component nearing and entering triple digits regularly, or maybe it attracts people who are a little too perfectionist. Either way, no truly outstanding shoegaze bands have been in continuous existence for more than 15 years at a time.

Something about the themes of the music seems to signal the imminent doom of each band, whether it be existential disappointment, anxiety, or intense angst. These themes were all certainly present during the creation of Loveless, where Shields holed himself up in studio after studio relentlessly reverbing and distorting guitars via soundboards to perfect the incredibly hard-to-replicate sound of the album. He dragged out the album’s production process for two years, but ultimately the ends justified the means and Loveless went down in history. The ethos of perfection at any cost tore apart every band that attempted to push deeper into the heart of shoegaze with each album. If bands did survive, it was through pulling out of the death spiral and exploring more sustainable paths.

Even early mainstays of the subgenre failed to meet what many hardline shoegaze gatekeepers would consider shoegazing after several albums. Starflyer 59, an underappreciated member of the core 1990s shoegazing cohort, started out strong with their eponymous Starflyer 59, a promising debut album full of heavy drums, static, moody lyrics, and guitars distorted to near unrecognition. However, by their fourth album, The Fashion Focus, they had transitioned away from instrumentally intense compositions to focus

on lyricism, resulting in a far more indie album. They never really recaptured the energy of their first releases, but were able to evolve and keep up with the times.

The slow — and occasionally incredibly fast and jarring —turn away from shoegaze as the 1990s rolled into the 2000s was a common phenomenon amongst bands which started in the early 1990s. Shoegaze was no longer a commercially viable style given that indie music was fully in vogue, and there simply wasn’t the same excitement for wild compositions. Tracks were always technically difficult to make, requiring vast amounts of time and money. Deciding to make music that could be produced on a tighter timeline with lower costs was an easy choice for those whose livelihoods were largely dependent on commercial success. The bands which established the subgenre disappeared from its reach one by one, signaling that the time of shoegaze was largely at an end. However, in recent years there has been a resurgence of interest in the sonic style that created so many waves in the music world 30 years ago, and some new — and old — acts are taking up the mantle.

the future of shoegaze sound

While the days of shoegaze bands experiencing mainstream success from the alt masses may be over, there are still plenty of acts worth looking out for. For nostalgia seekers, both Ride and Slowdive reformed in the 2010s, where Slowdive released the eponymous Slowdive, an incredible comeback album that tied up loose ends from their days as a younger band. Ride has gone in a slightly different direction but released two albums in the past five years, marking a clear return to activity.

New shoegazers are few and far between, but two of note are Whirr and Launder. Both bands are based out of California and make incredible music that really brings out what the subgenre was all about during its formation. Whirr has released half a dozen fantastic projects since 2012, their most successful being Pipe Dreams. Their sound has serious punk undertones, but the music and performing quality is pure shoegaze. Launder is a far newer act, with a debut album that was released this summer, called Happening. It also ascribes to standard shoegaze practices, favoring distorted, looped, and reverbed guitars in wild compositions rather than a lyric-heavy tracklist.

why shoegaze matters

While there are several other fairly niche bands putting out great music in 2022, it goes to show that shoegaze has always been, and probably always will be, a niche subgenre. Its legacy does not fully lie in the body of work which artists have produced, but on the outsized influence those artists have had on contemporary music at large. Shoegaze opened the door for any rock subgenre to incorporate reverb and distortion techniques, complex instrumental compositions, and a general sense of technical prowess into tracks without having to explain themselves. It continues to give new groups a template to work from, where even today there is no surprise when my bloody valentine is listed as a primary influence by a band. The fact that such a small number of groups in the 1990s creating music that filled in a tiny spot between two subgenres still affects the music world — not via derivative tribute acts but through genuine influence — speaks to the enduring importance of shoegaze and its sonic significance. A lot of your favorite bands may exist because of it, but do not be mistaken — not everything is shoegaze.

Terrance Dumoulin (Civil Engineering and Architectural Studies)

Steve Lacy, Roadrunner

Photo by Emily Gringorten (Computer Science)

MUNA, Royale

Photo by Emily Kobren (Grahpic Design)

Raven, Sonia

Photo by Sophie Quisenberry

THE HIP HOP TRANSFORMATION

Using history and music to empower Cambridge youth

What do you think of when you think of hip hop? Maybe big-name rappers come to mind: Kanye, Kendrick Lamar, Jay-Z. But hip hop and rap are not synonymous. Whereas rap can be tied to a verb and a flow of storytelling, hip hop is connected to a cultural subgroup: it’s a way of life. This line has become blurred as major music labels and industry arms have warped hip hop from its origins of activism and defiance to a money-making genre geared towards discussions of violence, drugs, and objectification. But hope in hop is not lost — just look at The Hip Hop Transformation (THHT).

THHT is a year-round teen program offered by the Cambridge Community Center to 14-18 year olds in the greater community. Beyond dispelling stereotypes about hip hop and teaching its raw, authentic history, the program equips and empowers teens to produce, write, record, perform, and distribute their own hip hop tracks. THHT has expanded far further than the original creators ever imagined — starting with just seven to ten teens, THHT was just about building a mentor music program between individuals who shared a passion. Now, they’re celebrating their 10th anniversary.

Much like original hip hop artists, these teens double as performers and activists. Rather than focusing on just the craft and skills behind creating and producing such tracks, THHT draws on the cultural movement that is hip hop. This genre that began in the 1970s wasn’t revolutionary for just its new backing beats and poetic flow, but also for the unique commentary that Black and Latino artists of the Bronx brought to the main stage of the music scene. Much like the

empowerment that hip hop gave its creators fifty years ago, THHT is giving its community’s teens a voice and a platform.

THHT’s Program Director, Imam “Flash” Firmin, sat down with Tastemakers to give an inside look into the merit and accomplishments of the program. He expressed the real world situations that many of the teens experience, such as eviction, drug use, gang violence, etc. These experiences can be difficult to process and even more difficult to communicate, but by offering a safe space and community, the music can do the talking. “Songs that last forever are usually songs that people can relate to,” Flash said, “and activism comes from being able to relate to your peers when they’re talking about vulnerable subjects.”.

The hip hop that teens are exposed to in modern day can often be age-inappropriate. Sexualizing women, encouraging violence, or glamorizing drugs is an all-too-common trope in most popular, mainstream music — including rap/hip hop. THHT acknowledges and challenges the notion that hip hop is no longer an appropriate outlet for cultural exposure by ensuring that all the music that the group produces is appropriate for all ages. By using clean language, teens are “forced to dive into [their] own personality and environment and write about things that matter to [them],” inspiring them to use hip hop as a communication tool to bring awareness to events within their communities, as shared by Flash. Without parents and leaders worried about what messages are being portrayed, THHT creates authentic hip hop that young listeners can enjoy and learn from, disrupting the cycle of stereotypes and exclusivity that the music industry has imposed on the genre.

THHT also empowers teens in a way that few programs have achieved. 14-18 year olds are notoriously challenging to reach through programming, but THHT bypasses typical strategies and implements a creative outlet with qualified leaders. Centering the program around authenticity, accountability, and creativity, THHT teaches substantial computer and writing skills while encouraging peer collaboration towards a tangible finished product.

Finally, THHT allows teens a space to feel and process their emotions in a safe and productive manner. The track “For Her” on their album The Unspoken contains real newscast audio regarding the death of a Cambridge teen in July 2018. The artists, The Hip Hop Transformation and Royalty, express through their lyrics: “when they spoke on the news, I was quiet. Didn’t know what to do… I sat in silence.” Flash describes this unique setting for processing and communicating as centered around “empowering them to have a safe space to speak freely about their truths.”

Giving teens a platform to not only decipher their experiences but also connect with others going through the same situations is a unique strength of THHT. “We do not call our program a ‘positive’ hip hop program — we prefer the word ‘authentic.’ Life isn’t always positive and THHT gives young people a chance to use their authentic voice to express whatever it is they are feeling — positive or not — and be heard,” reads the program’s website. By providing positive reinforcements and a stable support system, THHT helps teens from the inside out: through assisting in the processing of their emotions to the external changes this promotes.

So why does any of this matter? For one, committed and stable music programs are normally not top priority for financially-strapped education systems. When program cuts occur, the arts are usually the first to go. The fact that THHT is separated from educational bureaucracy, the state and city, and all other forms of red tape in funding is an exciting example of stability in the arts for students who want and need it the most.

Finally, THHT revives equity in music and restructures the narrative around hip hop and the artists of the genre. Getting involved in the music industry is no cheap venture and often requires prohibitive resources such as music lessons, equipment, connections, and nepotism. THHT takes all of the clutter away to bring teens back to the basics: music as a creative outlet and for enjoyment. By providing a space that doesn’t ask for anything in return except for involvement and collaboration, THHT can support these teens in a dedicated manner. THHT truly makes teens into hip hop artists in a way that is authentic to the genre’s origins. Participants are learning authentic hip hop history and writing themselves into the revival of its roots in a healthy and productive way.

Learn more about The Hip Hop Transformation and find their music at www.thhtfam.org. Give them a listen and find more information about the Cambridge Community Center at www.cambridgecc.org.

• Rachel Cerato (International Affairs and Environmental Studies)

Designer: Maia Fernandez Baigun (Communications and graphic design)

Local Talent

With two albums under their belt, and a third on its way, indie rock band Divine Sweater are hitting their stride. The five-piece band – made up of lead singer Meghan Kelleher, guitarist Sean Seaver, drummer Chris Southiere, bassist Alex Goldberg, and keyboardist Stephen Lin – opened for Irish rock band Inhaler for their two-night run at the Sinclair in early August.

Tastemakers Magazine recently spoke with lead singer Meghan Kelleher and guitarist Sean Seaver about lucky sweaters and TikTok.

This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.

Tastemakers Magazine (TMM): I’d love to know about the origins of the band. There are five of you — did you all go to school together?

Sean Seaver (SS): I’ve been playing with our drummer Chris since high school. We’ve been in various iterations of bands, and then Meg and I both went to Boston College together. Right after we graduated, I worked with Alex, our bassist, and then he brought in Steve, our keyboard player, because they had also played in bands together in high school.

Meghan Kelleher (MK): Chris went to Berklee as well, so he was in Boston. We kind of settled into this five-piece arrangement…and now we’re all besties.

TMM: And I have to ask, is there a divine sweater out there?

MK: There is a real divine sweater.

SS: Yeah, it’s my sweater. It’s just a lucky sweater I’ve had. I got it from my great uncle a while ago — he’s like 94. It’s kelly green, and it says “Seaver’s Express,” which was a family business before I was born. Seaver’s Express was also a band name that Chris and I had for a while.

TMM: With having five people in the band, do you ever find that makes your musical process more complicated, or is it in some ways easier?

MK: We like a lot of the same bands, musicians, genres, but then I think all five of us have a different take on what’s our favorite or what we want to bring into the music. That’s been a good thing because if we just all listened to the exact same music, we’d probably make just a copy of that music.

SS: And I also think that having five people is cool because there are a lot of different ways a song can be birthed. I think it’s good to get that variety in the songwriting process because then the final product is a little different because of how it was cooked.

TMM: And what are some of the biggest overlapping artists that you guys try to pull inspiration from?

MK: I think a couple that come to mind from a vocal perspective — bands that are very harmonized. So like The Beach Boys, Cocteau Twins. One of our most beloved bands is Steely Dan. We cover “Dirty Work” a lot, and I feel like we want to write songs that are stories like they do.

SS: I could name a pantheon of classic rock artists — Fleetwood Mac, the Beatles. I’m a real big fan of Brian Eno, this great ambient producer

who has done a lot of work for the Talking Heads, David Bowie. He influences the way that soundscapes unfold in our recordings.

TMM: You have released two albums so far, and a number of singles, but how were the creative processes different for those two?

MK: We probably have gotten more collaborative over time. The second album we were more set as a five-piece band. We learned a lot from both of those albums, and I think you can hear growth from the first to second album.

SS: I think arrangement-wise, the second record was a little different. There wasn’t really any accessory instrumentation on Human Love. We had a bunch of strings on the second album. I think we were putting on our composer hats a little more, trying to not repeat ourselves in songwriting or arrangement.

MK: I also was going through a phase where I was obsessed with Leonard Cohen, which is kind of random and sad. He’s another person that just is always telling a story in all of his songs, that have a pretty clear narrative. And so I think instead of speaking about broad things, I wanted to follow specific stories.

TMM: “2x2” was the first song of yours that I had heard. When you look back at it, do you feel differently about it from when you wrote it? Because it was a 2018 single?

SS: Yeah, that was not one of my first songs, but an early song in my songwriting career. I think that song is as old as 2014. I was playing in Seaver’s Express at the time with Chris and my older brother Brian, and that was our signature song for a while. Yeah, I definitely feel differently about it now than when I was 18 writing it.

TMM: And your latest single from last year was “Waste my Time” with the Crystal Casino Band. What was it like collaborating with another band?

MK: They’re so great. We’re going to play with them this weekend in DC. They have a version of that song that was already out, and then they were like, “oh, let’s just try this and see what happens.” For me, it was really fun because it was interesting to get into a character of a song that I didn’t write.

TMM: I’ve noticed that both of your bands use TikTok a lot for promoting. Do you feel like it’s a good way to get your music out there?

MK: I feel like it’s something that artists need to do, and they also need to stick with it. We’ve just done it everyday for so long that it’s cool to actually watch how it changes your fanbase. I also think that our band is pretty personality-heavy. So for us, TikTok is good because we can post stupid videos of ourselves with music in the background.

TMM: I can definitely tell that you have a lot of personality just from watching you opening for Inhaler. What was that experience like?

SS: That was my peak right there.

MK: It was just so fun. It was a crowd of people that were already interested in similar music. I’m glad that we got to do it twice – two nights in a row. We’re definitely super grateful that they had us on.

TMM: And you’re on tour now, playing a lot of shows. How do you split your time between Boston and New York?

MK: We’re not on a proper tour that’s like every single day, but we’re trying to just hit cities where we have fanbases. Logistically, I feel like people always just make it seem like the drive from Boston to New York is really long, but it’s really not. Wherever the show is, we all go there. It’s actually cool to have your feet in different areas because then you can tap into the different music scenes at the same time.

SS: We know where we’re going like 4-5 months in advance, so when it comes up, it’s less of a big deal to plan out logistically what that entails.

TMM: Is there anything you can tease about your upcoming album? What can we expect to see from you in the future in general?

MK: We’re going to put out some new music soon. We’ve been working on it for a while…and I definitely feel that this is a good growth jump for us.

SS: Yeah, first time working with a producer in a studio, not making it in my bedroom, so… it sounds more professional. Yeah, we’ll probably start putting out music at the top of next year.

Designer: Ava Ackerman (Business and Design)

• Chelsea Henderson (Journalism and Communications)

Remember You: The Thematic Function of

“Music is powerful, man. It speaks to a primal pit in our brains,” Jake the Dog says in the series finale of Cartoon Network’s “Adventure Time” after defeating the embodiment of discord with musical harmony. “It makes anyone wanna get up and get their knees going. Gotta get ‘em pumpin’, pumpin’, pumpin’. Boom-pa, boom-pa, boom.”

The decade-spanning Cartoon Network series “Adventure Time” was unique in many ways. Over its ten seasons, it transitioned from a light-hearted episodic fantasy series to a plot- and character-driven serial dealing with moral ambiguity in a post-apocalyptic setting, without losing sight of the zany whimsy and joy that made the show what it was. To match this, “Adventure Time” featured music that sounded unlike anything else on TV.

The series features myriad songs from each of its cast members to portray a range of emotions – while staying true to each character and the show’s unique tone. For example, protagonist Finn the Human often sings with a distorted, hyperpop-esque autotuned voice

after swallowing a computer prior to the start of the series. The songs range in length from a few seconds to over two minutes.

The songs have a variety of functions, including adding comedy to a situation (“I’m a tough tootin baby, I can punch-ah yo buns,” Finn famously sings in season two), furthering along the plot (Lumpy Space Princess’ rendition of “These Lumps” in a talent show), or characterizing members of the large cast (Marceline the Queen first hints towards her romantic feelings for Princess Bubblegum in “I’m Just Your Problem”).

The series features myriad songs from each of its cast members to portray a range of emotions — while staying true to each character and the show’s unique tone.

“Adventure Time’s” Whimsical Music

One of the most emotional moments of the show uses song to reveal a complicated history between two formerly unrelated characters, the Ice King and Marceline the Vampire Queen. In season 4, episode 25, the song “Remember You” masterfully characterizes this relationship through atypical songwriting choices.

In season 4, episode 25, the song

“Remember You” masterfully characterizes this relationship through atypical songwriting choices.

As the lore and history of the world slowly and precisely fills in throughout the series, a connection is drawn between these two of the show’s oldest characters. Little is known about Marceline’s past at this point in the series, but it had been revealed that Ice King was alive in a world similar to ours which underwent a nuclear apocalypse in the 80s. Simon, as he was called at the time, was forced to use a magical crown, empowering him with ice powers and longevity at the cost of his sanity and happiness..

Throughout the episode, titled “I Remember You,” Ice King attempts to “jam” with Marceline, much to her dismay and irritation. Ice King brings a drum set and omnichord as well as letters from his past to use as lyrics. After hijinks and an emotional breakdown or two ensue, Marceline and Ice King perform the song. He plays an omnichord riff based on one previously written by Marceline while she cautiously reads the lyrics he wrote a millennium ago. “Marceline, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world? / That must be so confusing for a little girl,” she sings to herself. The haunting, electronic chords repeat and swell as Ice King begins an accompaniment on his drum set. His playing is bombastic and arrhythmic and completely ill-fitting for Marceline’s somber vocals. His percussion eventually slows to a reasonable pace as he joins in with vocals. Frankly, he sounds awful. Especially when paired with the precise vocals of Olivia Olson, the voice actor for Marceline, Ice King sounds like a crotchety old man.

Ice King is a shell of his former self – the man who, as it is revealed, raised Marceline in her youth. The chaos in this song works to portray Ice King’s madness from Marceline’s perspective. His flat

singing remains a beat behind the instrumentation until he is joined by Marceline. With her guidance, the two of them are able to sing together in a semblance of rhythm. Although his drums become more chaotic, Ice King’s vocals begin to level out. Although he still lacks awareness of his words and their effect on others, Marceline feels catharsis.

Few shows, especially those marketed primarily to children, are able to portray complex themes through music like “Adventure Time.”

Although the colors and whimsy never faded from the show, it grew up with its audience and had faith in its viewers to understand these topics. Through songwriting, instrumentation, and an emphasis on character development, the writers of “Adventure Time” weaved a multimedia tapestry that was as offbeat as it was mature.

Few shows, especially those marketed primarily to children, are able to portray complex themes through music like “Adventure Time.”

• Trevor Gardemal (Journalism) Designer: Emlyn Griffiths (Communication + Design)

These days, any mention of Imagine Dragons seems to elicit a reaction of immediate disgust. A band that was once seen as a trail-blazing frontrunner of alternative rock is now widely considered cringey and commercialized.

In part, they have reached this level of disdain by many due to their latest releases, like 2017 hits “Thunder” and “Believer.” Both have been overplayed on the radio, resulting in a singular sonic profile that many listeners are quick to judge. “Believer” in particular attained meme status after being featured in a saucy scene involving two high school couples in The CW’s “Riverdale.” Their even more recent releases — 2018’s Origins and 2022’s Mercury: Acts 1 & 2 — aren’t particularly memorable. The singles shared from these records were fine, but still easily dismissed. “Enemy,” the 2021 single featuring JID for the series “Arcane League of Legends,” became somewhat of a TikTok song, which did little to improve the feelings of those who already disliked Imagine Dragons.

Despite the fact that their recent records have failed to recapture the love of music listeners, Imagine Dragons should be given more credit and recognition for their earlier work — and their critical role in bringing alternative music to the masses.

In 2012, the Las Vegas band released their debut album, Night Visions. It features some of the band’s most recognizable work: “Radioactive,” “Demons,” and “It’s Time,” to name a few. Sonically, the album is strong, featuring punchy beats and catchy melodies. Even the more underrated songs — like “Tiptoe,” “Amsterdam,” and “Hear Me,” as well as deluxe songs “Round and Round” and “America” — pair lead singer Dan Reynolds’ raspy vocals with upbeat backing tracks. Lyrically, the album takes listeners on a journey to experience the highest of highs (like in “On Top of the World”), and the lowest of lows (“Demons”). It highlights the different facets of the human experience — all complemented by the alternative, anthemic instrumentation.

Aside from the musicianship they display in their debut, however, I think it’s even more important to consider the role that Imagine Dragons played in the alternative rock scene. In total, hit single “Radioactive” spent 87 weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, holding an all-time record that was only recently broken by The Weeknd’s “Blinding Lights.” It is reportedly the best-selling rock song in US digital history, selling over 8 million digital copies in the US alone as of September 2017, and was certified Diamond by the Recording Industry Association of America. Personally, I can confidently say that my life was never the same after I heard “Radioactive” played alongside the trailer for 2013’s “The Host.” For myself and others in 2012, Night Visions acted as the gateway drug into the alternative music of the early 2010s. It bridged the gap between pop music and other alternative rock hits of the time — like “Tongue Tied” by Grouplove or “Undercover Martyn” by Two Door Cinema Club. Imagine Dragons’ music was accessible and easy to listen to, facilitating the transition from different genres into the alternative scene.

In honor of its tenth anniversary, Imagine Dragons has released a super deluxe version of Night Visions. In addition to the original songs, the super deluxe also includes remixes, live recordings from tours, and a couple of previously unreleased demos. It emphasizes not only how important the album was to the band members, but also the music industry at large.

Night Visions isn’t a perfect album, and Imagine Dragons is a far from perfect band. But they should be given more credit for the cultural shift they contributed to, and their discography shouldn’t just be written off because their newer singles have left a potentially sour taste in listeners’ mouths. Criticisms of their musicianship is valid, but not without giving credit where credit is due.

• Chelsea Henderson (Journalism and Communications)

Designed by: Laura Mattingly (Communications and Design) Fall 2022

Etcetera

Album Reviews

Björk Fossora

Released September 30, 2022

Label One Little Independent Records

Genre Art Pop, Experimental Pop

Tasty Tracks “Mycelia,” “Sorrowful Soil,” “Ancestress,” “Atopos”

On Aug. 31, critically acclaimed art pop musician Björk announced that she would be releasing a new album called Fossora. In announcements for the album, she described it as being “woven into how I experienced the ‘now’ this time [where] around 7 billion of us [quarantined] together.” This announcement reflected the general concept Björk was going for in this album. She wanted to create a project focused on the grounding experience of quarantine where everyone around the world had to sit with themselves for months on end.

Fossora is not by any means the first “quarantine album.” While it isn’t the best example of this kind of album — how i’m feeling now by Charli XCX, for instance, captures the feeling of quarantine much better — Fossora still displays Björk talents as a musician and her willingness to incorporate new styles into her music. Fossora’s sound is largely focused on bass, a type of sound Björk associates with the feeling of groundedness that influenced this album’s creation. This creates a listening experience which sometimes gets lost in its own uniqueness, failing to create an enjoyable listening experience for sections of the album.

The main instrument that the album uses to create this sound Björk wanted is the bass clarinet, an instrument which is common within orchestras and concert bands but much less so in commercial music. This choice is a defining one for the album, and both serves as a blessing and a curse, contributing to some of the best songs on the album but leaving others feeling repetitive and indistinct from each other.

This hyperfocus on one instrument is something Björk has done before, particularly on her critically acclaimed fourth studio album Vespertine which focused heavily on the use of harps. On Vespertine, Björk’s specific instrument fixation works much better. One of the reasons for this has to do with the sonic nature of the harp, a much softer and lighter instrument compared to the more aggressive bass clarinet. Its softer tones allows it to fade in the background

which not only creates a far more pleasant listening experience, but also allows for a greater variety of sounds between songs on the album.

The bass clarinet is, in many ways, the exact opposite. Its deep and forceful sounds makes it hard to ignore in any song it is in, and it immediately becomes the centerpiece of that song. When used well, which is true for a majority of the tracks on Fossora, it creates some fantastic songs. Both “Atopos,” a dance song created with Indonesian producer Kasimyn about questions Björk is having in her relationship, and “Fungal City,” a beautiful soaring song that mixes Björk’s vocals with those of serpentwithfeet and violins, heavily feature bass clarinet and are some of the strongest tracks on the album. This incorporation is done particularly well in “Atopos,” where Björk is both able to create a very well made dance song and expand on the conventions of dance music by adding a unique instrument to the mix. Other songs on the album, such as the second single “Ovule’’ and the painstakingly long “Victimhood,” show the negative impact the commanding presence of an overbearing instrument can have. In these songs, the bass clarinet is both stagnant and annoying, and punches through the music in a way that almost doesn’t seem planned.

Some of Fossora’s strongest moments come not from the bass clarinet used on many of the songs, but rather from the other, less publicized elements within the album. Acapella, a skill that she developed on her fifth album Medulla, is used incredibly

throughout this project on tracks like “Mycelia” and “Sorrowful Soil.” Violin, an instrument central to much of Björk’s work and a significant part of many of her best songs, once again plays a central role in this album on songs like “Freefall” and the best track on the album “Ancestress,” a beautiful 7 minute-long ode to Björk’s mother who had died in 2018. Another one of the important music elements is the use of loud and chaotic breakdowns at the ends of songs, an element that, while Björk hasn’t specifically stated an influence for, has emerged as a stable part of experimental pop and hyperpop music today. These breakdowns, featured in “TröllaGabba” and the title track “Fossora,” provide an exciting spike of energy within the album and, more than any other aspect of this album, show that Björk is still incorporating new sounds into her music close to 30 years into her career as a solo artist.

While Fossora is bogged down in some ways by its hyper focus on bass clarinet, other aspects of the album allow this album to create a genuinely moving experience about internal inspection. The sound of Fossora, for better or worse captures the true nature of self-reflection: beautiful revelations along with annoying fixations.

Dakota Castro-Jarrett (Journalism and Political Science)

Edible

Designer : Leena Gupta (Neuroscience)

Freddie Gibbs $oul $old $eparately

Released September 30, 2022

Label Warner Records

Genre Rap

Tasty Tracks “Space Rabbit,” “CIA,” “PYS” “Couldn’t Be Done”

On Freddie Gibbs’ newest release, he finds himself living it up on the top floor of the fictitious $$$ Hotel. The only question is, will he ever come down?

Gary, Indiana’s most famous rapper and cocaine dealer has been enjoying a years-long victory lap off the coattails of critically-acclaimed albums and a Grammy nomination for 2020’s Alfredo, an album where he boastfully claims “my name cocaine they ain’t gon’ put me in the nominees.” Attention from the Grammys was certainly a surprise, but it isn’t shocking to see the 40-year-old Gibbs having this sustained longevity and success. He has walked the line between mainstream and underground rap across his career, with listeners from both circles extolling his gritty, candid lyricism and masterful flow.

His newest effort, $oul $old $eparately (or $$$), is one of his most commecialsounding projects yet, with a grab-bag of trap and boom-bap production and big name features like Rick Ross and Offset. While it would be easy for Gibbs to phone in an album flaunting his wealth and status in hip-hop, he ends up delivering his most conceptual project yet: a ponderance — equal parts braggadocio and sorrow — of how his past continues to shape his present.

During the album’s rollout, Gibbs harped

on giving listeners a full album experience. This initially didn’t intrigue many since he’s previously delivered multiple sonically- and lyrically-consistent projects, but $$$ truly makes good on his promise. The hotel serves as a narrative device throughout the entire record, uniting each started-from-the-bottom anthem and reflective soliloquy the album offers under the same concept.

Though the album begins with lighter, celebratory tracks, there is still gravity to what Gibbs is saying. Opener “Couldn’t Be Done” is a jolt of energy, brimming with horn shots and nostalgic pianos as Gibbs and Kelly Price triumphantly talk down on those who doubted them. “Pain and Strife” and “Too Much” are two spots where Gibbs toys with melodic trap, a style that suits his abilities well, and continues to flex his wealth and status in the drug game. Later on the album, “PYS” is a chopped and screwed banger where he brags about dodging feds and, as the title hints at, pimping your slut.

As the album progresses, and Gibbs still hasn’t left his top floor suite, it’s apparent Freddie has become paralyzed within the walls of both his room and his mental. Verse one of “Space Rabbit,” backed by cavernous piano runs, tells the unfettered story of his come up, from getting signed and dropped by Interscope to turning to drugs. “Gold Rings” sees Gibbs talking earnestly about a woman who got away, as he admits that heartbreak isn’t an emotion he’s equipped to deal with. “Rabbit Vision” is another moment where the downsides of Gibbs’ lifestyle — even in the present — come to fruition, as he mentions that “this rap shit bringin’ more enemies than friends, they out to get you.”

Spots where Gibbs’ hard facade breaks down are not unique to his music, but the volume of them on $$$ is notable. Also notable are the moments where Gibbs appears petrified, fearful of the changing world around him and the life he’s built for himself. The soulful “Feel No Pain,” balanced by Anderson .Paak’s soothing mantra of a chorus, sees Gibbs rapping with urgency about racism in the U.S., begging for justice for Breonna Taylor and referencing NASCAR’s only black driver Bubba Wallace discovering a noose in his garage two years ago. “Grandma’s Stove,” perhaps the most despondent song on the record, makes the clearest allusion to how his past can come back to get him (“I bought a

house out in Cali, I made it out for real / Pop Smoke killed in the Hills, that shit gave me the chills”). Lines like this hit harder when Gibbs outright says later on that he’s still dealing crack, bringing home that he’s more embroiled in his old life than some previously thought.

The two sides of Gibbs’ consciousness occasionally collide as well, like on the album’s closer, “CIA.” Rapping on a shimmering jazzflip by Madlib, Gibbs still comes through with his classic humor (“I need my money back you can’t ever YK Osiris me”) while maintaining the album’s candid tone, with lines about how he knows he won’t die of old age and how his dark past is now funding his lavish exploits (“Servin’ Big Rabbit rosé, Big Rabbit champagne.”)

Gibbs’ dual-mindset in this regard can appear contradictory; he is simultaneously revering and ridiculing his past on the album. However, the intrigue of his lyricism peaks in these contradictions, where the nuanced perspective Freddie holds of street life emerges. He understands that the life he’s leading is inescapable and may lead to his demise, but it’s ultimately what got him to a better place, and that’s still something worth celebrating. Even at this stage in his career, Freddie Gibbs still has something to prove, and has continued to maintain his status as one of hip hop’s most prolific and consistent emcees. $oul $old $eparately, while loaded with funny lines and bombastic production, is a sobering project from Gibbs, and proves that a victory lap does not have to be driven by complacency.

Henry Bova (Journalism)

BLACKPINK

Born Pink

Released September 19, 2022

Label YG Entertainment

Genre K-pop

Tasty Tracks ”Shut Down,” “Hard to Love”

After almost two years, BLACKPINK is in our area once again. Fresh off of historic VMA wins and the announcement of a sprawling world tour, anticipation for new music from the quartet has been off the charts. The question on hand is now one of evolution. After launching into the upper echelons of success, will they double down on the sounds that made them famous, bring something new to the table, or, perhaps, a bit of both?

Unfortunately, BLACKPINK’s answer to this question is to revisit previous sounds to the point of becoming stagnant. On their second studio album, BORN PINK, BLACKPINK appear almost unwilling to evolve as artists, relying on musical influences that feel unexciting and lukewarm compared to the heat of their global popularity.

In the past, BLACKPINK have eschewed typical Kpop standards, which include constant genre changes and conceptual switch-ups. Instead, they have cultivated a brand of bombastic, hard-hitting bangers paired with high fashion sensibilities that have given them a signature, recognizable sound.. Multiple songs on BORN PINK adhere to this formula, but the execution leaves much to be desired. English lyrics have been increasingly outnumbering Korean ones on BLACKPINK tracks, but they either don’t make sense or are delivered awkwardly. On “Typa Girl,” member

Jisoo insists that she’s the “type that make you love me when the only thing you done is like”, and a drone of “straight to ya dome like ah-ah-ah” makes up the majority of the chorus of pre-release single “Pink Venom.” The last twenty seconds of “Pink Venom” also showcase the girls chanting “RA-TA-TATA” on loop, likely prompting first-time listeners to wonder if their earbuds were working correctly. For all the bravado and designer outfits being flaunted, BLACKPINK have done these exact tracks before to much better effect.

YG Entertainment’s in-house producer Teddy Park continues to play a large role in BLACKPINK’s music, but his penchant for clunky instrumental drops in place of choruses has begun to overstay its welcome. On tracks like “Ready for Love,” tinny brass hits recall David Guetta-esque dance-pop from the 2010s in a way that feels dated, not nostalgic. On the rare occasion when Teddy deviates from his usual style, the results are refreshing. Lead single “Shut Down” surprisingly samples Niccolo Paganini’s 1826 concerto “La Campanella” to great success, creating an addictive mix of violin and trap snare rolls. “Yeah Yeah Yeah” is hampered slightly by the hook being just that (“Just say yeah, yeah yeah,”) but euphoric 80’s synths and a subtle guitar loop make it a welcome distraction at the halfway point of the album.

BORN PINK also continues a previous pattern of lumping in older tracks with their newer releases. “Ready for Love” was dropped months ago in July as a promotional song for the battle royale game PUBG Mobile, which means that in addition to the Rosé solo “Hard to Love,” there are only six new full group songs on this album. However this doesn’t seem to detract from the listening experience. In fact, “Hard to Love” is a great showcase for Rosé, allowing her distinct timbre to shine over a bouncing bass line separated from the usual rap verses and dance breaks from other members. While there are ultimately more pressing problems weighing the album down, one can’t help but wish there was newer material from the full roster considering how rarely they release.

BLACKPINK have raised themselves to dizzying levels of fame around the world, previously unheard of for any Korean girl group. Career touchstones like performing at Coachella, signing to a major label, and

topping charts in multiple countries have been achieved at a blistering pace, making their charisma and ambition clear. This makes it all the more disappointing that BORN PINK fails to — or perhaps lacks the desire to — expand into new musical territory.

Six years into their career, the quartet have yet to release music consistently, which might be less frustrating if their output showed more of a commitment to growth and the exploration of new sounds with each release. Unfortunately this is not the case, and on this newest release, they tread ground that is far too familiar. Whether this complacency stems from their label realizing that they are essentially “too big to fail,” or the girls preferring other ventures like modeling and acting, has yet to be seen.

As fun as doing bare minimum Tik Tok choreo to “Pink Venom” is, one can only hope that the next time BLACKPINK comes back, they’ll do so with a bit more bite.

Jonathan Shia (Biology)

Maya Hawke MOSS

Released September 23, 2022

Label Mom + Pop Music

Genre Folk/Country

Tasty Tracks “Bloomed Into Blue,” “Thérèse” “Mermaid Bar”

“Nepotism baby” — nepo baby for short — is a new label for an old phenomenon in the entertainment industry. The general public is slowly discovering that so many of their favorites have ‘made it’ due to having connections from famous family members, with common shockers including Maude Apatow, Jamie Lee Curtis, and Zoë Kravitz. It’s a label that’s applied independent of success or stumble, and one that Maya Hawke, daughter of A-Listers Uma Thurman and Ethan Hawke, has faced daily as she’s strolled her way into international attention. Initially gaining success for her acting ventures such as her breakout role on “Stranger Things” and the recent “Do Revenge,” Hawke has utilized her connected career to shift further into music with the release of her second mainstream album.Moss is a tame beast – an acceptable, albeit hackneyed in reference, indie venture into the gardens of Hawke’s complex, poetic brain that deserves at least a background stream.

It really takes something special to stand out from the too-large treasury of “pretty” acoustic music with elegiac storytelling and sweet, crooning vocals. Unfortunately, this record only brushes with that kind of creativity. “Thérèse” is the clearest — and perhaps only — example on Moss, painting

a thoughtful, arhythmic, and personifying ode to the girl in the homonymous Balthus painting at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s obvious why the track was Hawke’s first single. It’s fun, artsy, and represents the best of what the still-young artist has to explore: breaths of life and playful resplendence into an otherwise intellectual analysis of things only she sees. “Mermaid Bar” is another intriguing admission at the album’s close, with dittiful vocal harmonies and encompassing imagery in an admittedly silly, aquatic concept.

Elsewhere, Hawke’s interesting motifs are often stunted by amateurish songwriting and underdeveloped concepts. While the opener, “Back-Up Plan,” wants to make a statement — “I want to be anything you’ve lost that you might be looking for” — choosing to frame that by banally listing commonlylost items like pencils, eyelashes, and pocket change feels like a Maisie Peters-level understanding of emotional depth and trope. She too often relies on the literal to express emotion, locking outsiders out of her inner turmoil. Audiences drawn in by the comforting acoustics may be dissuaded by her exclusive thought processes.

Unfortunately, even the best-written songs on Moss listen like you’ve heard them before. Reference is beneficial for up-andcoming musicians; incorporating influences into their work helps develop a personal voice down the line while drawing in new audiences in the meantime. Yet, it’s too obvious before even reading Hawke’s promotional interviews that one of her strongest influences for the record was Taylor Swift’s critically acclaimed album folklore. More than just being mixed by Jonathan Lowe, the same sound expert who mixed the Swift album, Moss directly emulates the 2020 album’s drippy, woodsy storytelling motifs. The crescendos in “Crazy Kid” step in the footprints of Swift’s “my tears ricochet,” while the production and rhythmics of “Sweet Tooth” are almost a carbon-copy of those in “Renegade,” a Swift-Big Red Machine collaboration of the Folklorian era. The choices worked for Swift at the time, but Moss sloppily applies the same formula in a misguided game of industry telephone.

While nepo babies often have easier routes to the spotlight, they also have more to prove in the hearts and minds of others that they actually deserve it. Maybe it’s an unfair standard to apply, or maybe it’s just

the right amount of scrutiny owed to those with advanced resources and opportunities. In either scenario, it’s hard to say that Moss is such proof of deserved laudability for Hawke other than being a small step up from her debut. The level of generosity one can muster for this record doesn’t go far beyond elementary praise such as “it’s an easy-listening album” and “her voice is nice.” Ultimately, it will likely go down in history as two sentences in a “Stranger Things” actor’s Wikipedia bio and a niche obsession for the very few.

Jacob Kemp (Political Science)

Shygirl Nymph

Released September 30, 2022

Label Because Music, Nuxxe Genre Pop

Tasty Tracks ”Woe,” “Poison,” “Missing u”

Blane Muise has always blasted through genre classifications. As Shygirl, the 29-year-old English rapper, singer, and producer has blazed a trail through club and pop music, co-founding label/collaborative Nuxxe with Sega Bodega and continuing to release within it. Her music has toyed with club’s fringes and been associated with the hyperpop scene, but it has always pulsed around dance-focused eletronica. Gaining widespread traction through 2020 EP ALIAS, Shygirl seemed to have found her sound: brazen, sexual, and deep in the depths of the club. With her debut record, Nymph, though, Shygirl attempts to escape the encroaching vapidity of hyperpopism and explore facets of her vocal and production artistry. But the resulting record fails to establish a new Shygirl sound and dilutes her style with a myriad of producers until her voice is totally lost.

While trying to expand on the brash-ness she previously embodied in her music through airier harmonies, Shygirl instead crafts an album that feels empty. She commodifies her experimental sound that pushed club music forward in the past as amorphic pulses are replaced with generic 808s. Superfluous production displaces depth, and aggression is subverted by passivity. Single “Nike” is a particular step backwards, where a shallow beat is awkwardly scattered with discordant

electronic notes. Sparse production can find success in dance music and is a hallmark of the UK club scene, but alongside nearly identical quasi-interlude “Little Bit” and the even more similar “Heaven,” the lack of compelling beatmaking makes Nymph seem more underbaked than deliberate.

“Shlut’’ continues this trend of stylistic amorphousness. A typical pop melodic structure is accompanied by even more ordinary 808s and doesn’t champion anything except an occasional glitchy synth. Shygirl’s vocals then become the only attraction, where she seductively chants, “Body right, pussy tight, you can try that easy / Never mind I’m fuckin’ with myself.” Where sonic excitement fails, this sexual liberation becomes Nymph’s only binding element, and Shygirl’s overreliance on subject over sound is readily apparent. “Coochie (a bedtime story)” similarly details erotic themes, but instead uses a bubbly falsetto to express her queerness (“Spread that little coochie for me, show me how you do / Sticky and sweet, it’s too good to be true”). While at least introducing the novelty of a sparkling lullaby, the track is an awkward middle child between ethereality and bouncy club pop, and yet again is barely held together through the same themes present elsewhere.

With the exception of her seductive songwriting, Shygirl’s overall anonymity in the record overshadows any attempt at dance fervor or IDM eloquence. “Come For Me,” a much-anticipated collaboration with avante-garde producer Arca, completely shrouds Shygirl’s vocals through industrial beats and lacerating synths. The song’s only legible authorship belongs to the producer and is more akin to Arca’s KiCk iii than Shygirl herself. This impersonality is omnipresent in Nymph, and the fault likely lies within the sheer quantity of producers leaving their mark on the record. Sega Bodega battles for prominence with Mura Masa, BloodPop, Vegyn, Danny L Harle, and Cecile Believe among others, making it nearly impossible for Shygirl’s own auteuristic ambitions to thrive. Through attempting to succeed the sonic monotony that has become hyperpop, Shygirl ends up falling into the same ethos — instead of concocting a mixture of erratic sounds, she assembles an equally discordant ensemble of collaborators that overshadow her own voice. Evidence of complexity is still occasionally

detectable, especially in “Woe.” Otherworldly electronica melts into murky pulses halfway through the track, expertly engineered alongside the lower registers of Shygirl’s range. Her personality shines strongest here, harnessing her already proven duskiness to enhance the effervescence that is too powerful elsewhere in the record. “Poison” is Shygirl’s closest brush with unapologetic club fare, and will undoubtedly soundtrack some of London’s most voguish clubs for months, as well as the equally grimy rapcentered cut “Missing u.” While better cohering with her countless producers, these highlights are still not enough to rescue the rest of the record’s flatness.

It would be reductive to say that Shygirl must stick to experimental club bass to make good music, but it’s equally irrational to deem Nymph a good record solely through its departure from her previous work. While exploring new genres and sounds is a viable path, even for a debut album, Shygirl neither branches far enough into progressive pop or etherality without leaning on ubiquitous sexual themes to create a compelling and cohesive record. Hopefully, she can reignite the passion of her previous work without over-relying on an array of discordant producers to rediscover what made Shygirl an unprecedented force in club music.

Ethan Matthews (Architecture)

Show Reviews

Joji Roadrunner 10.14.22

Not one person standing in the line spanning seven blocks outside Roadrunner had any motive besides squeezing their way to the front of the crowd for Joji’s performance. As both a victory lap from his stunning album Nectar and a nod to his upcoming release, Smithereens, Joji teamed up with growing artists Dhruv and Savage Realm to perform at Roadrunner, living up to the expectations of the hungry audience.

The audience swelled with questions about the openers, with the most notable being “who?” Savage Realm attempted to assuage this notion by making us his “best friends.” He engaged through unconventional tactics: asking us to boo him, playing his setlist from his iPod shuffle, conducting a rock-paper-scissors tournament. In fact, Savage Realm did just about everything except for singing his own (one minute) songs. As personable as he was, the cuteness of his compensating behaviors wore off after the first lip-synced number. Where Savage Realm lacked in talent, though, Dhruv exceled. His live vocals were impeccable and indistinguishable from his recorded releases, yet his energy deterred immediately (likely attributed to his focus on vocal quality). Still, Dhruv has a world of potential to grow in the limelight.

By taking the most promising elements from the openers, humor and talent, Joji electrified the stage. Working in tandem with gorgeous visualizers and silly sound effects, he paid homage to his duality of artistic seriousness and personal playfulness. During cult-classic “Will He,” Joji held the audience delicately, as if to take a careful breath with us. An intense breakout of Super Smash Bros following the song crumpled this atmosphere, but reminded us of his “Filthy Frank” roots.

For “Like You Do,” “I Don’t Wanna Waste My Time” and other ballads, Joji’s heartfelt performance colored the audience blue, projecting intangible emotions into reality. His vocal performance was carefully crafted into art, hardly faltering or losing steam. His ability to elicit emotional reactions was a testament to what his music means to his

listeners; for some, it guides them through their troubles, and for others, it offers solace, an escape.

As he picked up the pace in his songs, the hype from the mosh pit was unmistakable. “Gimme Love,” “Pretty Boy,” and “Sanctuary” were dynamic and brought the most energy. A casual Joji listener may never expect to envelop themselves in a party mindset with his music, but it was quite the contrary that night. Throwing caution to the wind, there was gleeful shouting, pushing, and tussling, almost as a competition between crowd members to see who loved Joji the most.

Joji’s informality was endearing as well, but he leaned too heavily into integrating funny moments in his set, like meme sound effects, inappropriate freestyles, and timed bathroom breaks between every single song. The frequency of the comedy bits were an unnecessary crutch to aid in capturing attention; the quality of the performance truly stood strongly on its own. He was actively hindering his credibility as an established artist by relying on comedy as a transition rather than as a supplement to his set.

The crowd locked into the more serious elements of the concert throughout the night, especially at the show’s conclusion. Joji closed with his iconic “Slow Dancing in the Dark” and new viral hit “Glimpse of Us.” He empowered them and pushed them to leave in love with him. His heartfelt connection with every individual and synchronization with his guitarist and keyboard player was explosive on stage. The added riffs and harmonies intensified an already euphoric feeling that “Slow Dancing in the Dark” delivers. His sendoff was gorgeous and sweet, perhaps to mature the tone of the concert and urge us to remember that he’s well on the path to redefine himself in the industry while maintaining his origins.

Stella Donnelly Crystal Ballroom 9.26.22

Stella Donnelly is many things. Playful and witty, poignant and angry, sometimes morose, and other times joyful. All of these facets of her musicianship shine through on stage, and the performance that she delivered at the Crystal Ballroom in Somerville was incredibly personal and intimate, crafted to deliver a truly unique experience.

When Donnelly entered the stage, she did so alone. Armed only with her guitar, she played two of the more sobering songs from her first album. Title track “Beware of the Dogs” was particularly heart-wrenching, and her powerful vocals cut through the crowd with a knife sharper than even that of the studio recording.

Even so, hints of Donnelly’s humor poked through this portion of the concert in the form of asides she adds into the song.

“It’s a really shitty beer,” the Australian singer informed the audience after her line about “flat VB” in “You Owe Me.” These ad libs became a recurring feature of her performance, like she couldn’t help but let us in on her secret and give us some of the story behind the song.

The stage exploded into one of jubilant energy after the first two songs, as the rest of her band took the stage. Donnelly herself donned a harmonica neck holder, which she played simultaneously with her guitar for “Season’s Greetings.” She wasn’t the only one to wear multiple hats during the show; the entire band swapped instruments, cycling through trumpets, tambourines, guitars, and two pianos with impressive skill and ease. Donnelly also took a moment to spotlight each of her bandmates, giving them space to show off their individual talent. The bond that connected the ensemble on stage seemed to run deep, and they delivered their performance in seamless unity.

Though the room was filled with strangers, Donnelly conversed with the audience like old friends, cracking jokes and speaking to fans directly. When she first paused her performance to speak to the audience, she had a pressing question to ask. “What do you call g-strings here?” she asked, poking fun at Australian lingo. After

Snehaa Ram (Business and Communications)

learning that, in the States, the word thong is used to refer to underwear and not flip-flops, she explained that her music is sort of like underwear. Performing the songs off of her new album feels like wearing a brand new thong, while her older songs feel more like comfy granny panties.

This isn’t to disparage her older music, which Donnelly played plenty of. Deeper cuts from her discography were given a moment to shine about halfway through the show, when the band left Donnelly alone on stage once more. She unexpectedly asked for the audience to request songs, sending the ballroom into a cacophony of shouts. The first that Donnelly selected was “Mechanical Bull,” the leading track off of her first release, the 2018 EP Thrush Metal. “We’re going to start with the grumpy one,” Donnelly stated, before strumming the opening chords to the song.

By including audience requests, Donnelly tailored her performance in a way that could not be replicated by most artists. Not only are they a deviation from the standard flow of a concert, they also ensured that the setlist was specifically catered to that room on that night. Donnelly was appreciative of the audience’s requests, which were much better than the songs she was asked to sing in other cities. “L.A. kept asking me for ‘Wonderwall,’’’ she complained. After two more requests, Donnelly’s band rejoined her on stage for the final leg of the show. The band came prepared with choreography for their performance of “Die,” which Donnelly taught to the audience. The result was a comical mix of Donnelly’s enigmatic moves and awkward shuffling from the audience members, many of whom were drunk and still trying to get the hang of the dance. Donnelly was careful to tell us to stop following her lead when she leapt into a handstand mid-song. She seemed to feed off of her audience’s interaction, and commented on how much she loves making people dance with her. To Donnelly, engaging with her audience was just as important as the music itself.

When Donnelly left the stage, an encore was not assumed. While they’ve become the standard among most performers, Donnelly treats her encore as it was originally intended: a final song that is demanded by the audience. The crowd was eager for her return, of course, and an encore was delivered. Donnelly seemed genuinely touched by the response to her performance. “I wouldn’t ask me to play another song on a Monday night,” she joked.

The encore itself summed up everything that made Donnelly’s performance so special, encapsulating her wit and ability to be earnest while also not taking herself too seriously. She took some time to converse directly with audience members, and described her experiences bird watching in America (the pileated woodpecker is her favorite North American bird). When it came time for the final song of the night, Donnelly once again returned the task of picking the song to the audience as a token of her appreciation. Her fans chose “Mean to Me,” another song from her EP Thrush Metal. “This song’s like my oldest pair of underpants,” she remarks, one last quip of her signature humor.

Inhaler

The Sinclair 8.01.22

There are few bands these days that ooze as much classic rockstar energy as Inhaler. Maybe it’s the vibrant nature of their indie/alt-rock music, or the effortlessly cool air that each band member possesses. Or, perhaps it’s genetics, seeing as lead singer Elijah Hewson is the son of legendary U2 rocker Bono himself. Nevertheless, the four-piece Irish rock band made their Boston debut at the Sinclair in Cambridge, finally bringing their decadent tunes after having to postpone their original Royale show in March due to Covid.

At the first show of their two-night run, Inhaler were joined by Boston-based indie band Divine Sweater. The five-piece opened the night, amping up the crowd for the Irish lads by dancing around on stage. Lead singer Meghan Kelleher’s angelic vocals blended beautifully with the songs’ keyboard synths and groovy instrumentation. To finish their set, they performed “2x2,” their catchy 2018 debut single that included an intriguing recorded trumpet element and fun melodies. It was the perfect way to end a set that primed the audience for the highly anticipated show.

Not long after, Inhaler emerged on stage, launching into the title track off their 2021 debut record. As Hewson belted out the refrain of “It Won’t Always Be Like This,” it served as a perfect reminder in this chaotic

world that things can always get better, and was even more poignant following the band’s original show postponement.

After an exhilarating introduction, the band kept the hits coming, showcasing their musical prowess and suave stage presence. While songs like “When It Breaks,” “We Have to Move On,” and “In My Sleep” featured a heavier rock sound with more intense drums and guitar melodies, the rest of their set provided a welcome balance of slower power ballads and lively pop rock tracks. Newer fanfavorites from their 2021 record like “A Night on the Floor” and “My King Will Be Kind” highlighted their range and ability to play slightly gentler alternative rock songs. Lighter rock tones and 80s-reminiscent synths appeared in songs like “Totally,” “Who’s Your Money On (Plastic House),” and “Ice Cream Sundae” – a 2019 single that Hewson said they wrote when they were all around 14 years old. They also teased fans with “These Are The Days,” an upbeat, alt-rock single off their forthcoming record. It was in the same vein as their previous work and shows promise for another exceptional rock album.

While the Inhaler boys didn’t dance around the stage quite as much as their opener did, their musicianship was what captivated the audience. Each song featured Hewson’s smooth vocals beautifully coupled with bassist Robert Keating’s harmonies, Josh Jenkinson’s killer guitar, and Ryan McMahon’s punchy, rhythmic drumming. Though the band didn’t speak to the crowd much, other than to thank them for coming and express gratitude for finally being able to play in Boston, Hewson still asked a room of Bostonians if there were any Irish people present. The result was resounding screams, and I’m sure it made the boys feel just like they were back in Dublin.

The night ended with a bang as the band performed their two show-stopping hits, “Cheer Up Baby” and “My Honest Face.” These songs made the venue shake with their instrumentation and the force of the jumping crowd, perfectly capping off an incredibly energetic, memorable night. The longawaited show certainly did not disappoint, and one can only hope that they’ll return to Boston again soon.

Jessica Gwardschaladse (History, Culture, and Law)

Chelsea Henderson (Journalism and Communications)

CROSSWORD (Food Edition)

ACROSS

3. What band (abbreviated) does John Frusciante play in?

5. What fruit is on the cover of the Velvet Underground and Nico album?

6. Author and frontwoman of Japanese _____

7. Who is the front woman of the Black Eyed Peas when they released the E.N.D.?

8. Who is Addison Rae’s mom dating?

DOWN

1. What’s Elizabeth Eden Harris’ stage name?

2. What’s the first fruit that Harry Styles mentions in Watermelon Sugar?

4. Who’s featured on Katy Perry’s song, Bon Appetit?

ZOOMED

LOCAL PHOTO

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

Take a look at some of the most influential and most recent entries into the shoegaze canon, inspired by “Shoegaze: Your Favorite Band’s Favorite Genre”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06wJERKr i3nJPxd6gsJjiW?si=af93e1a33b3647f4

Find the playlist on our Spotify page @tastemakersmagazine!

FIND CHARLIE

“Only Shallow” - my bloody valentine

“When You Sleep” - my bloody valentine

“Just Like Honey” - The Jesus and Mary Chain

“Alison” - Slowdive

“40 Days” - Slowdive

“Seagull” - Ride

“Leave Them All Behind” - Ride

“Monterey” - Starflyer 59

Lovesleep” - Swallow

“Catch the Breeze” - Slowdive

“slow” - my bloody valentine

FOLLOW US

We’ve hidden Charlie Puth somewhere in this issue. Find him and maybe something cool will happen...

“Soon” - my bloody valentine

“Junebouvier” - Whirr

“Ease” - Whirr

“Blue Collar” - Launder

“Everyone Knows” - Slowdive

“Drive Blind” - Ride

“in another way” - my bloody valentine

“Taste” - Ride

“A Short Happy Life” - Medicine

Like what you read? Check us out online.

tastemakersmag.com @tastemakersmag

• Ethan Matthews (Architecture)

The Sheepdogs, Sinclair

Photo by Sebastian Wicke (Mechanical Engineering)