Major Communications/Graphic and Information Design
Graduating Fall 2026
Favorite Venue MGM Music Hall
Tastemaker Since Spring 2024
Quote
“I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree, 'cause I've been looking at you so long now I only see me."
Major Political Science
Graduating Spring 2026
Favorite Venue Thalia Hall, Chicago
Tastemaker Since Spring 2024
Quote
“With each passing moment, a moment passes.”
Major Computer Science/Finance
Graduating Fall 2024
Favorite Venue House of Blues
Tastemaker Since Fall 2022
Quote
“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion... But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”
"Blink"
Nat & Alex Wolff, TD Garden
Photo by Vika Brennick (Computer Science/Design)
Table of Contents
32
Do Not Play: How 9/11 and 160 Songs Informed Modern Country Music
Bring Back Girlapalooza: Lilith Fair
In the summer of 1997, history was taking place on a field outside of Washington. 26
Features
12
18
Afterlife Artists: Navigating Posthumous Releases
"An artist’s music is their life’s work, so what does it say when someone else is making the choices?"
Recession Pop
“Recession pop” is like gum to a restless child: A rush of euphoria that, once it hits its sudden half-life, leaves you more dissatisfied than you thought possible.
22 29
Life After Success: The Late Stages of Legendary Rock Acts
Many of the bands that defined the “classic rock” era endure into the 21st century. This doesn’t mean that all of their discographies are flawless.
Branching Out Of Internet Music
The artists that defined internet music are collectively moving past the genre by using it as a base to push their sound forward.
39 44 46
Three days following the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center in New York City, radio stations across the United States received the same email: a list of 160 songs with the memo “do not play."
I'm Telling You, They Sound Even Better Live: The Art of a Great Live Album
Sometimes you hear a song live and know, intrinsically, that is the way it’s meant to be heard.
Cityscape, EDM,and Individuality: A Brief Look at South/East Asian Club Music
EDM has taken over. From the taxi radio to the elderly dancing in the park, it’s influence is undeniably.
The Vinyl Resurgence: Is It a Good Thing?
In a world where casual digital listening is the norm, purchasing a vinyl record represents a total commitment for most collectors.
Interviews
An Interview with: Sloppy Jane
Album Reviews
Sayso Says, The New Sound, Mandelãoworld, and Leon Show Reviews
Tyler, the Creator and Machine Girl
Etcetera
14 15
Dissects: "Int'l Players Anthem (I Choose You)"
Twelve years after the infamous 1995 Source Awards, Outkast, UGK, and Three 6 Mafia united for the ultimate, definitive Southern hip-hop collaboration.
Underrated: Miniature Tigers
Avant-garde, zany, and full of references from Nabokov to Annie Oakley, Miniature Tigers are a hidden gem in the indie rock scene.
28
Taste of Nostalgia: Love. Angel. Music. Baby.
Love. Angel. Music. Baby. exists to many pop fans as a “problematic fave” or a “guilty pleasure,” anchored by moments of pop excellence that canopy the offensiveness.
Tastemakers sits down with Presents headliner and Sloppy Jane frontwoman Haley Dahl to discuss the journey behind her multifaceted musical project.
An Interview with: Breakfast Beers
Tastemakers talks to newly formed band Breakfast Beers, winners of the annual Battle of the Bands hosted by us and Green Line Records. 16
34
Discography: Death Cab For Cutie
Follow Death Cab For Cutie's journey from an evocative and desolate indie-rock sound through their recent turn towards introspection and maturity.
ROCK OMM ENDS
MICHELLE
February 18 @ The Sinclair
If you experienced the indie bedroom pop phase in 2020 like many (and still do), you don’t want to miss MICHELLE at The Sinclair on February 18th! It will be the “IDEAL” night, get your tickets now to see MICHELLE tour their new album “Songs About You Specifically.”
Emily Seitz (Health Science/ Psychology)
Almost Monday
February 5 @ Brighton Music Hall
Ready to “DIVE” into summer after only a month of New England winter? Don’t let your “life [go] by” without vibing to almost monday at Brighton Music Hall on February 5th! Make sure you don’t find yourself asking “is it too late?” and get your tickets today!
Ananya Singh (Political Science/ Economics)
glaive
February 2 @ The Sinclair
For the hyperpop or alternative/indie music lover, glaive's 2025 tour is coming to Boston on February 2nd! Whether you want to scream the lyrics to "astrid" or vibe to the swaying melodies of "By Birthright", one thing is for sure, you won't want to miss this chance to see glaive "Live & Direct" at The Sinclair!
Hannah Storer (Computer Science/ Game Development)
Destroy Lonely
February 2 @ MGM Music Hall
“How you feel?” about the fashion demon Destroy Lonely’s upcoming FOREVER TOUR? Join the Atlanta rapper at MGM Music Hall on February 2nd and scream along to bangers like “if looks could kill.” You definitely got to “LOCK IN” and get your ticket.
Niko Mallias (Pre-Med/Psychology)
Latto, MGM Music Hall
Photo by Taliyah Fox (Game Art & Animation)
Album Reviews
Sayso Says che
Released August 30, 2024 Label che Genre Hip-hop Tasty tracks “SASKA YOU MADE IT," “It's My Party and I'll Die If I Want To," “NUNCA HACER COCAINA," “CUT OFF YOUR HANDS”
When it comes to most rappers in the rage family tree, their sound largely stems from Playboi Carti's 2020 album Whole Lotta Red. While rage is still deeply rooted in the aggressive visual and sonic aesthetics Carti laid out on this album, artists like Yeat and Lunchbox have expanded the sound with cinematic and off-kilter approaches. With his new album, Sayso Says, che continues to evolve the rage sound by branching further into the electronic influences that the microgenre often flirts with.
From the sparkly synths on “Pissy Coffee” to the intergalactic instrumental on “ENJOY YOUR LIFE,” Sayso Says is packed with vibrant beats. Some of the production choices are quite creative; every time the low-pass filter turns off on “Been There, Done That,” it feels as though the entire song is popping out of a bubble, complementing the plucky and rubbery synth leads. The vocal layers on this song and throughout the album elevate these instrumentals from average rage beats to brighter and more garnished compositions. “NUNCA HACER COCAINA,” which features a steady fouron-the-floor kick pattern, feels as though it transcends the micro-genre entirely.
The rage recipe commonly includes crisply compressed vocals and drums, buttery plucks, smooth sine leads, and crunchy 808s. Many of these ingredients
are also found in the synthesized palettes of several electronic genres, which this album strongly embraces by directly sampling them. "Interlude" and "My Favorite Color is Red" each contain interpolations Crystal Castles songs, which provide an eerie backdrop for che’s menacingly bit-crushed vocals on the ladder. "It's My Party and I'll Die If I Want To" samples "Superheroes" by the electronic music project YOU LOVE HER. Arguably the most intense song on the project, the serving of aggressive arpeggios on this track feels right out of the hyperpop playbook. One of the most intriguing interpolations is found on "GET NAKED," which samples a J-pop vocaloid (synthesized singing) track by iroha(sasaki). The contrast of the bright Japanese vocals with the growling bass on this song makes for an admirably overstimulating experience. The direct inclusion of these samples gives this album a distinctly electronic flavor that is usually only hinted at on most rage albums. One of the factors that separates this album from other rage records is its consistent lyrical and sonic aesthetic. While it would be a stretch to call this a concept album, the combination of che’s energetic vocal delivery and references to loss of limbs with highly danceable beats transports the listener into a blood-soaked rave, packed shoulder to shoulder in the mosh pit. It's evident that a considerable amount of thought was put into this album’s sequencing and track-to-track transitions. This album does a good job of keeping its momentum with consistent runs of highenergy tracks, which are then balanced out by a more relatively laid-back song. For example, “SASKA YOU MADE IT” ups the energy ante bet by the opening track “I Rot, I Rot,” but is refreshingly followed by “Pretend We’re Sleeping,” one of the most straightforward songs in the tracklist. These moments of reprise are a moment to catch your breath before the mosh pit opens back up. However, the continuity between each song is never broken as the use of low pass filters, tape stops, and fades smoothly transport the listener between tracks. This is exemplified by the transition between “Been There, Done That” and “Hex On My Chest, It’s Going Down.”
Despite being able to sonically distinguish itself from stylistically similar albums in this way, Sayso Says falls victim to common pitfalls of underground rage rap.
The instrumentals are composed of several interlocking synth lines; while this makes for very layered beats, elements compete for space and attention in the mix, making it difficult to truly appreciate the complexity of the compositions. Repeated listens reveal new intricacies in each song, but these instruments are most notable in the intros and outros, where they aren’t being squashed by an overpowering 808. These mixing issues extend to the vocals, which, while lively, are often unintelligible due to how processed they are.
However, this does not prevent this album from having a plethora of catchy refrains: “SASKA YOU MADE IT,” “NUNCA HACER COCAINA,” and “CUT OFF YOUR HANDS” each have incredibly addicting choruses. Even if you can’t understand all the words, the way che’s melodies burrow themselves in your head is a testament to his knack for writing memorable songs. Given the dubstep bass on "SASKA YOU MADE IT," the flurry of distorted synths on "It's My Party and I'll Die If I Want To," and the dance beats on "NUNCA HACER COCAINA" and "Interlude," this album is arguably as electronic as it is rage. This willingness to fuse genres and skill in writing catchy hooks and melodies establishes che as an exciting artist to watch moving forward. It will be interesting to see whether che's next album will continue in this direction, align closer with typical rage, or will incorporate something new entirely.
Oscar von Rekowsky (Music Technology)
The New Sound Geordie Greep
Released October 4, 2024
Label Rough Trade Records
Genre Progressive Rock Tasty Tracks “Holy, Holy,” “As If Waltz,” “Motorbike”
It’s been two years since black midi, London’s prog-rock and post-punk darlings, released their third album, Hellfire. While Hellfire set the gold standard for the recent wave of post-punk outfits originating from the UK at the start of the decade, it unfortunately turned out to be the group’s swan song. Rather unceremoniously, black midi frontman Geordie Greep announced that the band had been put on an indefinite hiatus during an Instagram livestream, surprising even the other members of the band who were under the assumption that the group’s breakup would not be made public. From the ashes of these trailblazers in the prog-rock resurgence came promises of solo projects for each member, the first of which arrived in the form of Greep's debut record The New Sound
While the title promises a lot, much of Greep’s debut is reminiscent of black midi’s past works. Their embrace of jazz and progressive rock has incredibly influenced the UK post-punk scene due to its uncompromising and brutal instrumentation. While not entirely new, Greep demonstrates that even without his bandmates, he can build incredibly dense and avant-garde arrangements, all while injecting a new Latin flair that permeates much of the record. This Latin jazz influence adds a new dimension to the sound that Greep is known for and
demonstrates that he still has plenty of tricks up his sleeve despite his already wide pool of influences.
The tracks on The New Sound often stretch past the seven-minute mark but rarely waver in their intrigue. Greep experiments with new instruments and styles, be it the congo drums on “Terra” or the country-tinged guitar opening to “The Magician.” Any listener would be hardpressed to guess the progression of any track from the start. Surprises are around every corner, all of them equally impressive and hard-hitting. One moment, Greep shouts about seeing a prostitute on his lunch break amidst dissonant wailing saxes in “Walk Up,” and the next, he tells a sordid tale of an overthrown warlord to a samba rhythm in “Through A War.” His unwillingness to be pinned down makes it all the more surprising that The New Sound manages to remain cohesive.
The long, winding experimental tunes are defined by their storytelling, which is exactly where Greep shines. He sneers, belts, screams, and talk-sings his way through track after track of perverse and off-putting tales of romance. Greep’s stories revolve around repulsive men consumed by narcissism, insecurity, and controlling mania whose egosim regularly burn the women around them. The album’s funk-inspired lead single “Holy, Holy” presents a narrator who pays a prostitute to create the charade of a womanizer. As his posturing builds, so do the groovy and distorted guitars, making the whole track feel like a Talking Heads song with an STD.
Greep pokes fun at these characters through instrumental juxtaposition and over-the-top absurdity. On “As If Waltz” a man’s desperate plea to marry and be cuckolded by a prostitute is set against the lulling sounds of a harpsichord and violins, mocking his desire for attention beyond their paid hour. On “Terra,” the narrator builds a museum of human suffering and places his bleeding heart in the center. The track’s samba-esque rhythm and harmonized backing vocals beg the listener to dance with Greep and join him in his misery. “Motorbike” is another highlight, telling the story of a man who abandons his wife because he feels unsatisfied with her. The track fluctuates between dreamy guitars and loud, abrasive crashes mixed with rapid arpeggios, wonderfully building pent-up frustration. Once again, the narrator blames his wife for his inadequacy and dreams of
housewives admiring his new engine as he speeds off into the distance on his mid-life crisis motorbike. The New Sound is full of contemptuous men, and Greep does not withhold from portraying their ugly flaws whenever he can.
While The New Sound is meanspirited, some of its strongest moments are those of sincerity. The 12-minute-long “The Magician” tells a beautiful story of an insecure man lamenting a fading relationship with his former lover until he can no longer remember anything but her name. As he circles and loses the memories of her, the track spirals from a lone piano to a dissonant orchestra until Greep’s voice is no longer heard over the cacophony that surrounds him. The record ends with a cover of Frank Sinatra’s “If You Are But a Dream,” whose lovesick lyrics and sincere delivery cast a new light on the countless tales of adultery, egoism, and prostitution that precede it. Greep’s poetic lyrics, enthralling stories, manic delivery, and zeal for musical experimentation make his debut a disorientating but delightful experience. On The New Sound, Greep builds upon the ashes of black midi, and in the process creates one of the most consistently interesting and dense albums of his career. Greep’s ability to build upon the black midi sound and bring a plethora of other unique ideas to the table has cemented him as a tour de force in the prog-rock space, and hopefully, one that will continue to bring a playful absurdity to the genre.
Jack Arseneau (Computer Science)
Mandelãoworld
DJ Blakes
Released October 4, 2024
Label Hype do Funk
Genre Brazilian Funk Tasty tracks “Mandelãoworld," “Sicko Mandelão,” "Tu Vai Mamar Depois do Baile"
Brazilian funk is one of the most wildly experimental genres to gain mainstream attention. Melodies with mind-shattering levels of unpredictability smash through a mix of looped vocals at 130 beats per minute, making for bizarre, ridiculously danceable, and often hilarious songs. It’s a genre that breaks all the rules in all the right ways, and whose impact on music in the coming years might be subtle but will certainly be significant.
DJ Blakes has been one of the most prolific envelope-pushers to emerge from Brazil’s electric funk scene in the past few years, famously known for his 2023 single “Montagem Game 196,” whose dreamlike melody proves how far minimalism can take a dance song. His debut album Mandelãoworld, while far from minimal, shares a similar atmospheric quality to the hit single. Brazenly borrowing aesthetics and samples from Travis Scott’s 2018 blockbuster album ASTROWORLD, Blakes’ freshman full-length project is one of the most cohesive and genre-encompassing projects to come out of the contemporary funk scene.
The moments in which Blakes samples ASTROWORLD are well-placed; in songs like “Sicko Mandelão” and “Mandelãothunder,”
the samples give way to original melodies, keeping the tracks unpredictable. The lack of build-up to drops (besides vocal hooks and chops) in most funk songs makes the novelty of their danceable moments key to the overall quality of track, and Blakes expertly plays off of listeners’ assumptions. He’ll build an atmosphere leading up to a song’s drop, then rip it away entirely, letting the earworm melody take control over the mix. And while Mandelãoworld’s presentation may give the impression that it’s a thinkly veiled rip-off of Travis Scott’s album, Blakes is not limited in the slightest by the concept. Some of Mandelãoworld’s highlights are built off non-ASTROWORLD Scott songs, like the incredible “Tu Vai Mamar Depois do Baile,” which samples the “Goosebumps” beat and autotuned vocal harmonization. The track defies expectations with an old-school baile funk drum loop kicking in just when listeners thought they had the album’s rhythm figured out. Others borrow from non-Scott American rap hits like “Banho de Chuva Bruxaria,” whose sung vocals are draped beautifully over “Miss The Rage”’s iconic soaring synth pattern. Still other songs, like “Beat Magicamente Mágico,” bypass the need for rap samples entirely to great effect, delivering supremely fun dance tracks that seamlessly fit the album. Considering funk is a primarily single-based genre, there are few albums that match Mandelãoworld’s level of consistency. And Blakes represents the contemporary funk scene well, incorporating all the elements that make it such a special genre.
It’s common for funk songs to directly sample popular hits, like DJ Jeeh FDC’s “Pupila Dilata,” which employs “Thriller”’s iconic descending synth line for just a brief moment in its buildup, or DJ RD DA DZ7’s “Da Jamaica para a Dz7,” an interpolation of Bob Marley’s “Is This Love.” But there’s something different about Mandelãoworld’s approach to sampling. For one, such techniques have never been employed as consistently over the course of an entire album as Blakes has on this project. A cheeky sample in a single is one thing, but having such dedication to artful rule-breaking, investing so heavily into an album that could be taken off streaming services for a lack of clearances at any moment, takes another level of commitment. Sampling is a delicate
artform that relies heavily on listeners’ past experiences with the songs referenced. If they feel that the timing is not right for the original to be repurposed, they’ll likely reject its new interpretation entirely. Few producers dare to work with such recently popular source material; DJ Blakes not only acknowledges this risk, but is confident enough in his artistic choices to share these songs with the world through his own lens, bringing more attention to his work and funk as a whole.
From an American perspective, it’s rare to see such experimental production paired with mainstream songs beyond internet tinkering and Soundcloud mixes. It can be difficult to accept the idea that in Brazil, this concept, while innovative, is commonplace within the funk scene. Artists like DJ Blakes, who have little regard for the musical and cultural rules artists and audiences submit ourselves to in the Western music world, can take popular songs we may have labeled corny or overplayed, put a wildly experimental spin on them, and submit them back into the worldwide music sphere as fresh new ideas. It calls for a reconsideration of our musical values; do we care more about having the most obscure taste in the room, or having a good time? Mandelãoworld is an exceptional funk album that will impress newcomers to the genre and experts alike. It’s dynamic and immersive, with gorgeous, familiar melodies that lure the listener in before destroying their expectations with brutally impactful drops. But beyond that, it can serve as a realignment of the often distorted priorities of music lovers who have fallen too deep into the trap of context. Blakes reminds us that music isn’t all about being unfathomably tapped into the darkest depths of obscurity; sometimes you just need to shut up and dance.
Lincoln Weinstock (Music)
Leon
Leon Bridges
Released October 4, 2024
Label Columbia Records
Genre Folk, R&B
Tasty Tracks “Laredo,” “Simplify,” “Ivy”
Known for his emotive storytelling and rich blends of contemporary production with R&B, gospel, and blues, Leon Bridges is a force of authenticity. Bridges’ wildly successful 2015 album Coming Home was marked by its tapestry of 60s-inspired vintage sounds layered with soulful vocals reminiscent of Otis Redding and Sam Cooke. His new album, Leon, is a beautifully crafted tribute to nostalgia, capturing the essence of Texas summers with memories of lake swims, late-night gumbo, and innocent romances. Leon illustrates the struggle to find quietude in money and fame, looking to his past for reminders of life lessons and sweet souvenirs that anchor him amidst the chaos of everyday life.
The eponymous title perfectly communicates the essence of the album, as it focuses on the places, people, and memorabilia that have shaped Bridges into the artist he is. On “Simplify,” Bridges captures simple joys from his upbringing in Fort Worth, Texas. As an established artist, he yearns for the ability to untangle his complex life into tender, fleeting blips of time, capturing the presence of each moment amidst the chaos. He reflects with soft words, reminiscing on his mom calling him home for gumbo every Saturday. The silky layering of harmonies over its clean chorus coats the song with homely comfort and a gutwrenching kick of nostalgia.
In a similar vein, as Bridges reflects on his feelings of aching for home throughout the album, he also diverges into the more blunt elements of his upbringing. “Panther City,” a nickname for Fort Worth, balances the comforting memories of home with a mature perspective of the city’s realities. This track captures the tension in Bridges' flashbacks, intertwining his harsh neighborhood with tender, sentimental reminiscence. He reveals a gritty landscape, where warnings to stay off the streets at night surrounded him from a young age. Yet, amid this backdrop, he recalls people dancing on his front porch and the house of his first love, displaying an affection for his hometown despite its ever-present flaws. As Bridges puts on and takes off his rosecolored glasses, he discovers how the crosssection between his conflicting memories influence his artistry. On “That’s What I Love,” Bridges shares his favorite things, from the mundane joy of blackberry soda to his cherished love for the Trinity River in the springtime. Each memory — tender, gritty, or mundane — grounds Bridges with an intimate warmth, while its rawness fuels his creative spirit, moving him toward ever more candid explorations of self and place.
At other points, Bridges seeks to reconcile the melancholy and nostalgia of his upbringing with blossoming romances. “Ain’t Got Nothing On You” is a heartfelt declaration of love in which he asserts that his Chanel watches and other material possessions hold no value compared to his connection with his partner. Bridges projects his yearning for home within this love, its feelings a reflection of shimmering lakes and dusty, old guitars. “Ivy” offers a similar sentiment of devotion. Supported by the folk styling of a gentle pipe organ, banjo, and acoustic guitar, Bridges represents his lover as evergreen. It may seem as though Bridges only focuses his writing on the notion of eternal and stable love, yet he describes a fleeting, one-night romance on “Laredo.” The momentary spark breathes new life into him during a time of little inspiration. While he doesn’t depict this love as unconditional or lasting, it serves a vital purpose. It teaches him to embrace his laid-back, sultry side. The fast-paced track contains Latin-influenced percussion and light acoustic guitars, exploring this sensual side through sound.
A crucial component of Leon is its dedication to the reflection and acceptance of memories and their seamless connection
to his current artistry. On “Can’t Have It All,” Bridges offers a mature contemplation into time wasted dwelling on unimportant things. Bridges accepts his innocence is over and realizes coming of age welcomes a newfound appreciation of diluting life’s anxieties. The tapestry of jazzy electric guitars and light tambourine on “Peaceful Place” convey Bridges’ journey to a calm mental space after hardships. Through his reflections, he learns how to feel at home anywhere he goes. “When a Man Cries” strikes a poignant note, highlighting the acceptance Bridges feels in breaking down his masculine vulnerability in this new stage of his life.
Every track is a key element to carry out the cognizance and profound adoration Bridges feels for every wrinkled face, tattered landmark, and home-cooked meal he has encountered on his quest for success. Leon is a love letter to all that has gotten him to where he is and is his most raw project to date. Woven with quiet gratitude, each subtle memory lingers with the sweet taste of homesickness and warmhearted humanity even amid imperfections.
Anna Udris (Business Administration/ Communications)
Edible
An artist’s music is their life’s work; each chord, beat, and note infused with their creative vision and artistic choices that make it unique. So what does it say when an artist passes away and someone else is making these choices? Posthumous albums have long been controversial, because of this exact situation, forever dividing fans on the ethics of various albums.
An argument can be made that posthumous albums allow an artist’s final piece of work to cross the finish line. Perhaps it had been their hope or dream to share new music with fans and the world, and having someone else pick up the baton and bring the project to completion is simply fulfilling their last wish. Born out of a care and compassion for the artist, others simply try to keep their memory alive. For fans, it is also incredibly meaningful. Death, whether it be a friend, family member, or favorite musician, can be a difficult experience to navigate and to process. There is a natural instinct to wish
for more time with someone who is no longer here, to be able to spend just another moment together. Music is no different.
Even band members can feel the same way, as evidenced by The Beatles’ 2023 release of “Now and Then.” By resurrecting a previous song demo written by John Lennon and sifting through previous recordings, a new track was able to be produced, finally bringing The Beatles’ discography to a close. Originally conceived of in 1995, remaining members George Harrison, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr tried to complete the Lennon demo that had been recorded back in the 70s, but weren’t able to properly isolate his vocals from the track, and had to give up. It wasn’t until 2021, with the advent of advanced computer technology that they were able to pull out Lennon’s vocals cleanly and complete the track.
With the song’s release, The Beatles were able to provide one final song to a fanbase that spans generations and has
outlived half of the original band members. The music clearly made an impact, as it notched the top spot on Billboard’s Adult Alternative Airplay chart, allowing millions to experience the phenomenon of a brand new Beatles song at once, many of whom got to feel Beatlemania for the first time. At the same time, it provided McCartney and Starr the opportunity to work one last time with their former bandmates, even if they had long ago passed away.
Through this perspective, releasing unfinished projects or previously unseen demos from deceased artists can come across as rather noble, such as or A Tribe Called Quest’s 2016 album We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service, released shortly after the death of founding member Phife Dawg. Originally, the album was meant to mark the band’s first group project in 18 years, its name proposed by Phife Dawg before he passed away. While the other band members professed to not quite understand what
it meant, they opted to leave it the title in Phife’s honor. As both the band’s first record in nearly two decades, and a release just months after the death of a band member, the album had tremendous meaning to fans and critics alike. There was an overwhelming consensus that We Got It From Here... had pulled off the impossible in releasing a reunion album that delicately balanced the band’s old sound and modern touches. Fans loved it, propelling it to the top spot on Billboard’s Hot 200, and cherishing the final Tribe project.
Held up as one of the best posthumous album releases is Mac Miller’s Circles. The album had been conceived between Miller and his collaborator Jon Brion as a follow up to 2018’s Swimming, and had about 80% completed at the time of Miller’s passing. There were roughly 30 to 50 songs leftover that could be used to finish the album, and sifting through the remaining songs ended up being a group project involving Birion, Vic Weinstein (Miller’s engineer), and Miller’s family. They were attuned to Miller’s vision for his future music, and wanted to ensure the album reflected the ideas he’d been pursuing and his evolving sound. Their efforts were
lauded by fans who felt the album was a fitting final tribute to Miller, containing the dreams he had on where his music would go, and allowing that vision to go out into the world.
And yet, there is an equally strong argument to be made against releasing posthumous albums. For one, the artist is no longer present to exercise creative control or judgment. Perhaps they intentionally didn’t release those pieces of music, finding reasons to dislike it or not being satisfied with the final project. This opens the door to someone with ulterior motives who doesn’t have the deceased artist’s best interest in mind, and rather, are more focused on raking in more profits or publicity. Michael Jackson’s posthumous album Michael serves as one of the more famous examples of a controversial album, with doubts that Jackson actually sang on all the tracks on the album, clouding its release. Over twelve years after the record came out, Michael producer Teddy Riley ultimately admitted that three of the tracks weren’t recorded by Jackson but had been passed off as his anyways.
One can also find countless examples of posthumous releases being driven largely by record label figures, ignoring the input or
wishes of friends and family. Such was the case for the work released after the death of Lil Peep in 2017. After his death, Peep’s label First Access Entertainment went about releasing a remix of a song he’d been working on, removing half of the track and replacing it with a Ty Dolla $ign feature. Peep’s mother, Liza Womack, had no idea the remix had been in the works, and proceeded to battle with the record label to ensure any future releases would honor Peep’s original work and wishes. Ultimately, the question around posthumous albums remains unanswered. Often, listeners will first decide if the released music is good or not, and then decide after the fact on if it was appropriate to be released in the first place. There seems to be at least a few standards by which to judge these types of releases, namely, were previous collaborators and family involved; was the release based on mostly finished work, and is it something the artist had intended for release. But these don’t issues aren’t always easily answered, nor do they ensure quality work.
• Connor Bedell (Political Science)
(I Choose You) Dissects:
It’s Aug. 3rd, 1995. The East and West Coast have met in New York City at the Source Awards, and they despise each other. While nothing could make these two groups like each other, something could unite them: hate. Hate for a third coast; one more gritty, raw, bass-filled, and sex-obsessed than anyone before them. When Outkast took the stage that night to accept their award for New Artist of the Year, the East and West couldn’t have cared less about each other; what stood before them on that stage disgusted them. They let the duo hear it, raining down boos so loud one could hardly hear the two meant to be giving a speech. But Andre 3000 didn’t fear the boos, instead, he stood proudly and faced them, uttering a phrase now infamous for it prophesied the rise of a region: “The South got something to say.”
At the same time, two other groups were making themselves known back home; Memphis posse Three 6 Mafia and Texas duo UGK. Both had carved out local niches, not so much inventing new sounds as making what others had created their own. They built off of local celebrities, each taking inspiration from the music and culture around them to create products that sounded like nothing else anywhere in the country. They had yet to put the nation on notice, but they had caught each other’s attention, planting the seeds for their many collaborations to come.
Twelve years later, the ultimate collaboration would arrive as all three groups met on the song "Int’l Players Anthem (I Choose You)." The beat, produced by DJ Paul and Juicy J, is composed of two parts, a set of trap 808s and a sample of Willie Hutch’s “I Choose You.” They form a juxtaposition that would stifle lesser rappers, but rather
than let it get in their way they steer that juxtaposition to perfection, consistently slotting different aspects of the beat in where they best fit the lyrical content of the verse. Andre 3000 starts the song off backed by just the sample, full of regal horns and elegant strings, evoking a royal wedding. Without a traditional beat he sounds as much a preacher as he does a rapper, and preach he does, delivering some of the best bars of his career about what choosing means to him:v marriage. Andre is relaxed, laying out double entendre after double entendre in a way only a Southerner could, using his drawl to his advantage to bend words so that not only are there two separate things to be understood, but there are two separate things to be heard (I’m so like a pimp, I’m glad it’s night / I’m soul like a pip, I’m Gladys Knight).
3 Stacks’ verse ends with the refrain “Play your part, play your part,” giving way for Pimp C and his newfound drums to do just that, mutating the sample and its feel from a royal wedding to a royal flex. He trades Andre’s wedding tux for a pimp’s coat, bragging about his foreign cars and “top-notch hoes.” The hoes of course in this context are Pimp C’s girl, not his woman, as Bun B articulates in his verse. The two UGK members stick together more than their Outkast counterparts, referencing similar themes across their verses, although the beat does once again go through a bit of a transformation, with rapid-fire claps
begging Bun’s verse to compliment his more aggressive delivery. Bun delivers as much of a sales pitch as a boast, using his tales of “pilin’ up the paper on the dining room table” to convince a girl to let him be her pimp.
Big Boi finishes the track off with his own Southern style. The sample drops out at the top of his verse leaving him with just the drums and bass to navigate as he methodically breaks down the importance of choosing the right woman to get pregnant lest you suffer a slaughtering of your pockets. While the sample does eventually come back, its removal at the start of Big Boi’s verse serves as the foil to Andre’s drumless verse, connecting the two partners and sending the song off as the last great Hurrah of Southern rap as it once was.
Nowadays Southern rap is barely a term, especially when used in reference to recently released music, and that speaks to the success of UGK, Outkast, Three 6 Mafia, and every other rapper from their generation. They fought hard to get their infectious styles into the mainstream, and from there, it stuck its tendrils into every bit of modern rap. Suddenly Southern rappers had morphed into just rappers from the South, as artists from New York, LA, Chicago, and even Toronto started to sound more and more like they had grown up on BBQ and sweet tea.
• Gabriel Lynch (Civil Engineering)
Miniature Tigers’ albums feel like a walk through Hieronymus Bosch’s fantastical and chaotic “Garden of Earthly Delights.” While less macabre and hellish, they are imaginative and rich in cultural references all the same. Since their formation on MySpace in 2006, Miniature Tigers have put together eight albums laden with eclectic influences from David Bowie to Stanley Kubrick. Thematically, they have remained dynamic, evolving from naivety and precociousness to more dark, introspective tones and back again, turning to their earlier lighthearted and playful feel on their recent albums. Drawing inspiration from classic acts like The Beatles, The Beach Boys, and The Kinks, Miniature Tigers
have established themselves with an extensive catalog characterized by its blend of feel-good pop, lyrical invention, and psychedelic flair. In this approach to music making, they have created sounds and stories that are distinctly their own.
References from classic literature and broader culture fill their work. Tracks like “Lolita” put this on full display, with the same themes of obsession, longing, and complicated romance that Nabokov’s novel of the same title famously explores. Lolita has become a widespread symbol of fatal attraction and moral ambiguity in romance, and in referencing the novel, Miniature Tigers embrace and emphasize the danger and emotional intensity of infatuation that is both all-encompassing and dangerous. The band demonstrates their capability of meaningful
reference in “Tchaikovsky & Solitude,” which captures and expands on the introspective and melancholic nature of the namesake’s work and personal life. Tchaikovsky himself suffered from severe bouts of depression, caused by ill-fated relationships and deepseated issues with his identity. In some of the darkest times of his life, he created his most moving and well-received work. Miniature Tigers reference Tchaikovsky in reflecting on the pain of loneliness and the space it can create for self-reflection and growth at the same time.
Miniature Tigers stand out in the underground indie scene not only through their adventurous approach to sound, but in their ability to continually reinvent themselves. Each of their records adds a new component to their identity. Each layer is executed with skill that sets them apart in their commitment to experimentation, no matter the risk. Their first two albums, Tell it to the Volcano and FORTRESS are the Miniature Tigers at their best. They feature storytelling and production that is both playful and incredibly metaphoric and thoughtful.Their debut, Tell It To the Volcano, is unplugged and intimate. It captures the essence of youthful exuberance and wit, and provides for a fitting introduction to their distinct musical identity. In contrast, their sophomore FORTRESS embraces lush, layered production. Jangly guitars and tambourine combos recur throughout the tracklist to create a kaleidoscopic, dynamic soundscape that goes hand in hand with their cryptic lyricism. Through the next six albums in their repertoire, the band increasingly relies on synths, sampling, and other electronic sounds. They evolve so much from their debut to their most recent self-titled Miniature Tigers that they could easily be mistaken for a completely new band. Lyrically, the band leans into the zany and avant-garde with whimsical, exaggerated narratives that construct vivid worlds. Songs like “Annie Oakley” exemplify their playful
yet thought-provoking style. Leaning into the namesake’s femme-fatale-wild-west-heroine folklore, the band compares romantic encounters to approaching sharpshooters. Don’t move too fast, don’t scare her off, don’t end up as “black blood” on her new high heels when you should have never been lying at her feet. “Rock ‘N Roll Mountain Troll” lies more on the esoteric side of their lyrical spectrum with lines like “You’ve got your bullfighter jacket on, nothing beneath / I had to take my mask off to kiss you in the street.” It is intentionally unclear whether this is in reference to a physical exchange, emotional commitment, or a cultural theme yet to be observed. Nonetheless, frontman Charlie Brand’s distinct voice weaves an invisible string of interconnected anecdotes through every track.
Despite having a few huge hits, Miniature Tigers have largely flown under the radar. Miniature Tigers prioritize their integrity over lyrical or sonic palatability. Instead, their music offers something richer and more alluring, diverging from predictable, proven-to-work pop formulas to embrace experimental production and Delphic themes. They may not fit neatly into mainstream expectations, but their music is a testament to the value of authenticity over commercial viability. Miniature Tigers put forth a hiddengem catalog of lyrical and sonic intrigue, embedding clever references and storytelling which allow listeners to discover something new on every listen.
• Ava Pijanowski (Political Science/ International Affairs)
Sloppy Jane is a force to be reckoned with. Far more than a musical act, their albums and EPs are world-building journeys that are equally grotesque as they are beautiful. On stage, the band delivers live performances that exemplify their musical variety and dramatics — their concerts being grand, immersive, and bordering on performance art. Haley Dahl, Sloppy Jane’s founder, frontwoman, and most consistent band member, is as dynamic and unpredictable as the art she creates.
Ahead of Sloppy Jane’s AfterHours performance, Tastemakers sat down with Haley Dahl to discuss the journey behind the multifaceted musical project, her personal artistic and selfexploratory endeavors, and the emotional nuances behind Sloppy Jane.
This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity. Tastemakers (TMM): How would you personally describe your art?
Haley Dahl (HD): Sometimes that’s a big orchestra band, or sometimes it’s a smaller rock band, or sometimes it’s just me alone. I decided really early on that, no matter what switches I made, I was just going to keep my one name and just let it evolve.
TMM: What were some of the turning points in Sloppy Jane’s evolution?
HD: I started it as just a little three-piece punk band. I want to make something that can really tell a story, and I wanted the heavier, uglier, gnarlier parts to sound uglier and heavier and gnarlier. But at the same time I wanted the stuff that was very pristine and beautiful and heightened to sound more pristine and beautiful and heightened. I started getting more into orchestral music because of it.
Moving back to New York, I had this amazing community of orchestra expats. I was finding all of these peers that were doing these more complex projects and I started expanding it more and more and made this big band. Madison was probably the height of it. I’ve always seen the first three albums that I make as being a sort of trilogy, and I kind of see this one that I’m working on now as being the final piece of that, both marrying the kinds of bands that I’ve been and the kinds of projects that I’ve done, but also being the most polished version of those things it can be.
TMM: I want to hear about the color blue and how that has become Sloppy Jane’s brand — you’re even literally wearing blue right now. What initiated the idea to throw up blue liquid all over yourself in your early performances?
HD: My first record, Willow, was about the time that I spent working at strip clubs. I wanted people to feel very disgusted by me and very scared of me and very uncomfortable with themselves watching me. I chose the color blue for a few reasons. With vomit, you’re limited with food coloring. I didn’t want to throw up blood and I didn’t want to do a green puke color; everything else doesn’t show up that well. But
blue is also my favorite color. I like the idea of this infinite sadness or whatever sort of spilling out of me — first out of my mouth, and then later that was out of my eyes. Then it [became] something that has just slowly taken over my whole life.
TMM: I resonate with so much of the messaging of your art and the way it talks about this very uniquely feminine anger and how you took this spin on a very, in some ways, objectifying form of performance.
HD: It’s really interesting the way that we tend to flatten women’s anger. Anger is such a layered emotion and I think that there’s a lot of beauty to be found in that dissonance. A lot of anger comes from anguish, or grief, or sadness and this kind of explosion of it. I think that looking at those layers is very important.
TMM: You really, really commit yourself full-time to being this vessel for your art. How emotionally taxing is that?
HD: I’m tired. I really want to make things the way that I want to make them and have them feel very earnest and very built out and layered. I don’t care about being prolific at all, I want to make just a few really good things, or things that I feel are good. I let stuff cook for a really long time, and I think that helps me not get super overwhelmed or entrenched in the kind of catharsis of it all. I think that sometimes, if you let yourself be pressured by feeling like you have to put something out, or if you let yourself be pressured by just having a big emotional catharsis where you’re like, “I need to write about this and put this out right now,” you’re going to do a disservice to the kind of distance that you need to make something good.
TMM: Arguably one of the best parts of Sloppy Jane is how unsubtle its art and the emotions behind it are. How did you learn to be unashamedly melodramatic with your projects?
HD: I always refer to it as cartoon sadness. I’ve always really gravitated towards theatrical artists and stuff; I grew up watching "Rocky Horror Picture Show" over and over and over and over again. My favorite bands were always My Chemical Romance, Hole, and David Bowie. All of those artists are very, very expressive and very, very theatrical. It’s just something I’ve always related to a lot more than this really beautiful stillness that a lot of people possess. I’m just, like, sweating and on fire and all over the place. I just, unfortunately, don’t have that quality. So, try to just do what works for you.
TMM: Do you have any of this advice to give to the people who will be seeing you perform at AfterHours, who are 18-22-year-old students?
HD: All the college students, remember that being bought time to learn is very valuable, and to try to learn as much as you can while you’re at school. Just try to really get knowledge that you think is interesting and valuable to you because it is hard to find once you’re out of school.
TMM: Do you think that you lead a lifestyle where you are learning a lot?
HD: I feel like I really prioritize it now. I was just a mess in my really early adulthood. Now I’m at a different place in my life where I value learning things a lot more. And so I do make time for learning.
• Paige Pataky (Psychology/Music Industry)
Photo by Ula Bitinaitis
When times are bad, we chew on bubblegum pop. Itching for a saccharine fix, teeth ram into teeth until a bitter, gray wad lingers—tasteless and stubborn. “Recession pop” is like gum to a restless child: a rush of euphoria that, once it hits its sudden half-life, leaves you more dissatisfied than you thought possible.
It may not come as a surprise, then, that the Great Recession of 2008 flooded the air waves with some of the best pop music to date — music so good that even those who were just toddlers at the time now chase the nostalgia of that era. The sphere of Beyonce, Rihanna, Britney Spears, Nicki Minaj, Katy Perry, Kesha, The Black Eyed Peas, Taylor Swift, today’s shoe-in honchos, were then starving to seize their claim. The nature of popular music is antidotal, and during the Great Recession, it numbed frightening uncertainty.
Nowadays, it seems an iteration of this pop fantasia has returned, answering our cries of frustration. Charli xcx, Troye Sivan, and Addison Rae are dieties shrouded in neon green and fur coats, Tate McRae’s off somewhere doing the splits, Taylor Swift is the kingpin of American capitalism, and Sabrina Carpenter's drinking espresso. Textbook-definition pop is back in full force. But, this time around, the stakes feel more grim.
The most damning example of this is 2024’s pop wildcard: Charli xcx’s BRAT album rollout. An ode to club culture, BRAT had the mainstream thirsty to sip straight from the tap of PC Music’s synthetic, metallic sound — a genre they’d been quietly getting people hooked on from underground up. The album’s guerilla-style marketing found explosive success, and at the center of the BRAT world sits
the putrid chartreuse Charli chose as its trademark. Charli explained the choice was first an economic decision to save on production costs. When asked later on, she provided rosier framing saying: “This particular shade of green seems to provoke a strong reaction— ‘brat green’ is loud and abrasive, but also flirty and fun.” As BRAT became a lifestyle, one of grown out roots, and cracked screens, and layers of irony destined to implode on themselves, the album’s immediate uptake made for a cultural litmus test. All the bones of recession pop were there: Charli choosing “brat green” first out of thrift, then embracing it as a statement. Fans rebranded resourcefulness as “brat” — a sexier gloss over genuine hardship. The echoes of the club and defiance.
But, this recession pop has been different: It’s more grotesque. If early aughts club music convinced you you’d fall in love on the dancefloor as your worries melted away, 2024 convinced you the night would end in a shattered bottle and bruised knees. In the current moment, the sheen of pop isn’t masking the chaos, it's fueling it. The catchy hooks and neon melodies don’t just capture our attention — they scream for it, pushing boundaries to match the intensity of our experiences.
Pop music has become a prominent pillar of identity politics, dividing itself into discernable ideologies. On one side stands the alternative group with the "Sweat Tour" and its associates, along with artists like Chappell Roan, Billie Eilish, and Tyler, the Creator. The other sees more conventional artists like Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, and Gracie Abrams who are attempting to subvert a vanilla genre from within. Then there’s the explosion of country pop, led by Morgan Wallen and Zach Bryan. It’s no stretch to generalize that the alternative camp appeals to liberals and the country camp draws in populists, while conventional pop sits in a more split middle ground. Yet, despite deep ideological differences, shock value remains bipartisan and worth its weight in gold — a backdrop eerily similar to the U.S. Election.
Though it may seem political threads have always been a fixture of the genre, framing it in the context of 2008 reveals a different picture. Innocuous hits like Beyonce’s “If I Were a Boy” or Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” would find life as political think pieces today, possibly backtracking TikToks pushing an agenda. Political views were largely kept out of the public eye; Miley Cyrus wasn’t making SNL appearances with Barack Obama, and nobody knew the Billboard charters’ views on the Iraq war.
Today, however, pop keeps bumping into Capitol Hill. Take the economics of Taylor Swift’s “Eras Tour,” which has not only shattered records but also sparked anti-trust lawsuits against Ticketmaster and Live Nation, illustrating the muddy relationship between extremely popular art and commerce. Or Chappell Roan’s outspoken criticism of both parties’ failure to address the Israel-Palestine conflict with their platforms. BRAT mania’s intersection with American politics, for instance, stands as a striking irony. An album whose attitude convinced the public to scoff at establishment found life as a vessel for the very bodies it undermined. These points of friction are not coincidental. The paradigm has shifted for recession pop, which has now found its role of exposing reality instead of escaping it. The past, wrapped
in rhinestones and Y2K bubblegum gloss, now feels like an alternate universe. Recession pop has grown up, and so has its audience. We no longer want to escape; we want to understand what’s breaking us, and why. Pop music, once a simple form of relief, is now a battleground for ideological wars and corporate interests. It’s no longer just a soundtrack to our lives — it’s the loudspeaker amplifying the dissonance.
Photo by Jackson Goodman (Data Science/ Business Administration)
Stephen Sanchez, MGM Music Hall
Photo by Elizabeth Zhu (Behavioral Neuroscience)
With the close of the 1980s came the end of what has since been referred to as the “classic rock” era. As new, innovative genres like grunge, EDM, and hip-hop ushered in a more democratic, commercial landscape, the epoch marked by world-renowned rock bands — some viewed with the reverence of religious idols — came to an undramatic and largely ambiguous halt. Despite this, many of the bands that defined this era, playing to sold-out arenas and releasing best-selling albums through the 60s and 70s, endure into the 21st century. This doesn’t mean that all of their discographies are flawless, though. A variety of factors has led once invincible acts to release uninspired and widely unpopular material in the final stages of their career.
Take The Who, which saw its UK debut with My Generation in 1965. Though the group saw large success in terms of touring and releases through the ‘70s, their output in the early ‘80s was generally unpopular, and failed to live up to previous classics, even in the eyes of die-hard fans. For The Who, returning to the market after the death of drummer Keith Moon, known for his on-stage antics and signature fillheavy style of playing, presented significant challenges. Their efforts following Moon’s 1978 passing shortly thereafter were, by and large, lackluster in a changing market grappling with the rising popularity of new wave and post-punk. Though their 80s output saw the release of hit singles such as “You Better You Bet” and “Eminence Front,” such work is a stain on the band’s history. Face Dances (1981) and It’s Hard (1982) lack the artistic integrity, instrumental nuance, and conceptual element that the group had emphasized in their rock operas Tommy (1969) and Quadrophenia (1973). Similarly, Endless Wire (2006) and WHO (2019) both saw chart success, but that was only due to the reputation the band had built decades earlier. These records, ultimately, failed to match the vitality and power of the back catalog.
On the other side of the coin is a band who dealt with a similar tragedy but handled it in a totally different way: Led Zeppelin. In 1980, another lionized rock drummer, John Bonham, met an untimely demise. Notorious for only using one foot to achieve complex, fast-paced bass-drum parts, Bonham’s experimentation with rhythmic accents and syncopation made his playing instantly recognizable. His death, a big hit to the band’s chemistry, effectively marked the end of Led Zeppelin. The band was left with a number of previously unreleased recordings which were later compiled into 1982’s Coda, released perhaps just to meet the demands of the group’s record contract. Unlike Moon’s bandmates, Zeppelin, in one of the most momentous decisions in rock history, ceased to produce any new albums after this. Led Zeppelin was at the center of the hard rock genre for years and is regarded as one of rock’s most integral acts for their renowned live shows and studio innovations, and while Coda may be below the mark, the group’s overall body of work is stronger than many of their contemporaries’ on account of the difficult decision.
For The Rolling Stones, though, channeling the youth and strength heard on their early albums seems to come naturally. The group has built a discography that has transcended generations, releasing albums well into the 1980s and beyond that commercially and artistically bested some of their 60s and 70s material. Despite being a classic album in its own right, Some Girls (1978), which gave birth to such classics as “Beast of Burden” and “Miss You,” is perhaps more revered among fans than several of the group’s earlier efforts. This speaks less to the shortcomings of many Stones albums in the ‘60s and early ‘70s than it does to the group’s ability to effectively alter their scope of musical composition while retaining those core elements that garnered popularity in the first place. This skill is front and center in Emotional Rescue (1980) and Tattoo You (1981), which retained the
seductive lyrics and blues-driven compositional substance of previous work while taking advantage of contemporary production techniques and exploring a looser, less grounded feel. Tattoo You (1981), which includes many songs that the Stones began working on in the early ‘70s, feels more like a follow-up to Exile on Main St. (1972) than anything else. Even 2023’s Hackney Diamonds, in spite of its shortcomings, was an adaptive album that arguably marked the biggest change in the Stones’ sound. The group — or what remained of it — managed to meet the threshold for modern sound design and retain their signature approach to songwriting over 60 years after their debut.
Although they publicly disbanded just before the release of Let it Be in 1970, the legacy of The Beatles continues even today with the release of 62 studio albums by its members following Let it Be. To be sure, a minority of these albums live up to the group’s efforts as a band, but the solo careers of Paul McCartney and George Harrison are worth noting. McCartney, who saw immediate success following the breakup with albums like Ram (1971) and Band on the Run (1973), built an enduring career well into the 2000s. This later output further illustrates his ability to effectively adapt to new recording technology and production, bringing his audience along for the ride. Experimenting with electronica, drum machines, loops, and soundscapes on less commercial endeavors and employing almost hyperbolically in-fashion keyboard and guitar sounds on more marketable albums, McCartney never managed to undermine his knack for writing melodies that stick. Harrison, who also saw early success with the release of his magnum opus All Things Must Pass in 1970, experienced an evolutionary arc similar to that of McCartney. Following a period marked by critically and commercially detested albums from Extra Texture (Read All About It) (1975) through Gone Troppo (1982), Harrison reemerged with Cloud Nine in 1987, no doubt a high point in his career. Beyond yielding hit singles, the album saw experimentation with drum machines and synthesizers, bringing Harrison back into the charts, even if only for a short while.
Even in the cases of McCartney and Harrison, though, one can’t help but wonder whether a sub-par album should be viewed as more than a mere misstep within the story of a band that made significant contributions to the cultural fabric of their day. Should bands be admired more for pushing on or knowing when to stop? By allowing a single uninspired release to bring an artist’s creative ability into question, fans may be robbing themselves of more music from their favorite group. It’s worth considering: Artistic criticism, particularly as a product of the high expectations set by legendary acts, may prevent highly regarded groups from continuing to make music for fear of being held in less high regard. The truth is that a bad album shouldn’t discredit the output of any of these bands during their heyday. Further, by freeing themselves of unparalleled expectations, fans can embrace their favorite artist’s journey, taking the good with the bad.
• Luca Williams (Political Science/Economics)
Designer: Syd Tomasello (Graphic Design)
Show Reviews
Tyler, the Creator Converse Lovejoy Wharf 10.31.24
Standing atop a green shipping crate for a stage, his set winding down, Tyler, the Creator reflected on the early success of CHROMAKOPIA and stated the obvious: “I didn’t expect it to be what it is.” That comment was just one in a slew of gratitudes directed toward the Boston faithful, but it shows that even for an artist of his stature, his eighth studio album is a major moment. His most honest release yet, CHROMAKOPIA debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Top 200 charts. He also recently dethroned Taylor Swift from the top spot on Spotify’s global Top Artists list, and, as he poked fun at on stage, he’s now in the crosshairs of Swifties pulling up his crude, Odd Future-era lyrics. His newest record, once again, reinvents the image of Tyler, the Creator. His fans — even with their insatiable appetites — and the music world at large continue to trust him and embrace his grandly presented eccentricities. It’s that mutual respect that lets him do things like perform on top of Converse’s flagship location by Lovejoy Wharf at the drop of a hat. With $5 tickets announced a mere few hours before start time, Tyler, backed by a picturesque blue sky on an unnaturally warm Halloween, ran through a majority of material off his newest album, hitting all the initial crowd favorites. He packed the wharf walkway and the N. Washington St. overpass behind the store
(where curious construction workers looked on), and sent a memorable shock through the Boston air.
Every Tyler, The Creator album rollout comes with an eye-popping look to match. This time around, it’s a fashionable green general’s outfit, complemented with a mysterious brown mask obscuring his face. The new look continued to his live show, extended out to his choreography. Tyler’s movements mainly took on a military cadence, marching as if he was barking orders out to the city from his makeshift stage. Though the space did not offer plenty of room for navigation, he made it feel large, dancing freely even while positioned precariously high above the audience.
Just a few days after the record’s release, most of the crowd — even the diehards — had yet to nail down every lyric and phrasing, but the performance proved Tyler’s ability to pen catchy refrains. The crowd’s accompanying vocals on “St. Chroma,” “Sticky,” and “Noid” could be heard from North Station, while performances of “Like Him,” and “Darling, I” were met with surprisingly on-pitch mimicry of Tyler’s melodic vocals. He even threw in a Halloween treat to his audience: an acapellaheavy performance of “Thought I Was Dead,” where his hater energy was so visceral that you could see his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.
It’s not every day that Tyler, the Creator plays a midday outdoor show in Boston, though it feels strangely fitting. He has carved his own lane for the entirety of his career, forcing people to get on board with his individuality, and this highwire act has paid off. Tyler continues to net himself loyal listeners through his left-field artistic endeavors. For the crowd that dropped everything to see the show, they were once again rewarded by trusting his vision.
Bova (Journalism)
Henry
“If you like those crazy-ass Japanese movies, Machine Girl is definitely for you,” proclaim the sole lyrics on Machine Girl’s hit “Post Rave Maximalist.” Yet, looking out at the sea of concert-goers, it was clear that Machine Girl is for everyone. A beautiful amalgamation of leather studded Demonias, neon glitter rave wear, liberty spikes, and your occasional polo-sporting-frat-boyarchetype filed into Big Night Live, their love for Machine Girl seemingly the only thing to bind them together.
The venue was alive with the buzz of anxious anticipation as openers Kill Alters and Snooper spurred on this energy with their spunky sets. The quick pace of Snooper’s music is reminiscent of Bad Brains and Minor Threat, but Snooper crafts their own sound by melding elements of electronic music with the hard-edged melodies of traditional punk. The result is entertaining, eccentric, and something you can’t help but bump your head to. This fusion of genres complements Machine Girl’s own music well, which exists at the nexus of rave, drum and bass, industrial, and punk — a uniquely maximalist sound.
Tension built after Snooper stepped off stage. As soon as Matt Stephenson, the lead vocalist and producer of Machine Girl, came into view, it exploded. The ground immediately began to shake, buckling under the weight of dozens of people rushing
forward and instinctively pushing and shoving each other, opening up a massive mosh pit. Stephenson took a moment to survey the writhing crowd, pacing the stage and thanking everyone for coming out before he erupted into a series of guttural screams. His howls were bolstered by the aggressive drumming of percussionist Sean Kelly, adding a metal twinge to their electronic sound. Stephenson danced around the stage, alternating between shouting into his mic (though much of what he was saying was obscured by the ferocity of Kelly’s drumming) and playing with his mixing board.
The setlist was centered around Machine Girl’s latest album, MG Ultra, which dropped a few weeks prior to the start of their tour in mid-October. Released under Future Classic, MG Ultra presents a more polished version of Machine Girl with higher production quality that retains the same angsty overthrow-the-status-quo lyrics. In concert, their music felt more unrestricted and alive than ever, showcasing all the rough, raw, intense rage at Machine Girl’s core.
“This next song,” Stephenson paused, and the restless crowd grew still, hanging onto his every word, “is about killing cops!” He screeched this sentiment as a nod to the anarcho-punk influence on both his music and worldviews. His passion was mirrored by roars of approval from the crowd which were quickly drowned out by the opening
notes of “The Fortress (The Blood Inside…).” Stephenson met the energy of the mosh pit as he climbed atop the railing and catapulted himself into the crowd, buoyed to the top by a sea of thrashing hands. Though eventually pulled back on stage by security guards, Stephenson did not stop connecting with fans. He repeatedly mounted the guardrails and reached out to graze the mob of outstretched hands.
From the minute Machine Girl took the stage, their energy was electrifying. This was maintained throughout the entirety of their show, and supplemented by the danceability of the repetitive glitches, beat drops, and powerful drums they use in all their songs. There are a slew of adjectives that could describe their performance — intimate, visceral, uncompromising. But it is perhaps best summed up by Machine Girl’s own merch detailing the experience: "I WENT TO A MACHINE GIRL SHOW AND BASICALLY IT WAS A 65,000 YEAR LONG RAVE IN 30 MINUTES…"
Olivia Kramer (Mathematics)
Designer:
Juliana LaPara ( Design )
Machine
In the summer of 1997, history was taking place on a field outside of Washington. While men were moshing, fighting, and pissing on fences at Lollapalooza, mothers and daughters danced at Gorge Amphitheatres' opening show, witnessing the magic of Lilith Fair for the first time.
The festival invoked Jewish mythology figure Lilith. When treated unfairly, Lilith disobeyed her husband Adam, left the Garden of Eden, and formed her own independent identity. From 19971999, singer Sarah McLachlan stood up against an industry that did not recognize female artists enough and channeled Lilith by creating the first all-female music festival.
Considering all the amazing female artists who gained prominence in the 90s, it may be surprising that there was so much adversity in the industry. Still, with concert promoters who wouldn’t put more than one woman on a bill and radio stations that capped the amount of female artists they would play at a time, female musicians were held back
from reaching their full potential. Concert promoters thought an all-female festival lineup would never sell; no matter how successful or capable the women were, it just wasn’t something that was done. After facing several rejections throughout her career, McLachlan had no choice but to light the fire of Lilith Fair.
While the release of her album Fumbling Towards Ecstacy broke the Canadian songwriter out of Canada into American commercial success, the industry’s treatment of her did not mirror this success. It made no sense, and the rise of bands like Pearl Jam and countless festivals like Lollapalooza with majority-male lineups only aided the confusion. No one questioned why male artists filled entire lineups, so why were they stopping women? McLachlan, determined to change this, got to work on the fair. After months of reaching out to a range of female artists and playing a test-run of four shows with Paula Cole in 1996, the tour began.
Lilith Fair’s stage was not short of iconic artists, including Fiona Apple, Erykah Badu, Sheryl Crow, Sinead O’Connor, and Dido. The Fair even hosted the first mainstream performances of more modern stars like Missy Elliot and Christina Aguilera. Back then, they were nobodies, just starting out, but Lilith Fair opened its doors to them and they became defining voices in their genres. Bringing together artists of various genres and success levels, Lilith Fair became a school for female artists to learn from one another. Pop, country, hip hop, and indie rock were all celebrated together rather than separated. This unification was crucial for female artists who existed in an industry that constantly pinned them against one another. Whether it was for the radio slot, or the spot on the bill, they always had to compete. If only one girl could get the spot, everyone else was made to be an enemy. Lilith Fair turned this battleground into a safe haven for female artists to grow together.
Every night, various artists came together for a singalong that was not only powerful for them, but everyone in the audience. Putting someone’s favorite country singer with someone else’s favorite
hip-hop or pop singer created a newfound respect for artists across different fan bases. Bringing them together was important to show that at the end of the day, they all share a passion regardless of their musical genre.
In becoming a symbol of unification against an industry that profited off of female artists turning against one another, Lilith Fair aimed to end gossip, separation, and comparison. Instead, there was a place of endless creativity. Joining as one harvested a power that shined through on their careers. Singersongwriter Jewel, for example, had released her album Pieces of You in 1995, but it wasn’t until 1998, a year after the festival began, that her sales skyrocketed. The album, which couldn’t even sell 3,000 records in its first year, went 8x platinum in 1998. Even air time on contemporary radio shows reserved for female artists increased after Lilith Fair. When Lilith Fair started, it was a hassle to get more than one female artist to be played on the radio at a time, but two years in, 30 to 40 stations primarily played female artists. In coming together, female artists were able to not only gain more respect, but effectively led each other through an industry that worked against them.
It is too often that women are put down in the media for not saying the right thing, and many will work tirelessly to avoid this. Lilith Fair, however, took a different approach. Rather than fearing criticism, Lilith Fair invited it with open arms. While the fair was already controversial for being the first all-female festival at the time of boyband galore, the fair’s open vocalization of social issues was the cherry on top. Lilith Fair encouraged artists to drop their personas, and let their real images show, no matter how ugly. The authenticity of it all was instrumental in guiding female artists out of the box carved for them by the music industry. Whether or not these artists chose to carry these values with them, Lilith Fair served as empowerment for years to come.
These artists’ fearlessness in the media not only supported female artists, but women around the country. At every stop, McLachlan would highlight a local charity that $1 of each ticket sale would go to, ranging from Planned
Planned Parenthood t-shirts, and when being asked by a journalist why there were no pro-life booths at the 1997 Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion show in Texas, McLachlan answered “It’s my festival, and I get to choose.”
These women taught female artists to let go of the need to be perfect in a media and music environment that will criticize them regardless of their actions. Lilith Fair proudly stood by these values. Today, many artists voice their opinions online and in concert. Power comes through in an artist’s authenticity, and this message has echoed into the present.
Lilith Fair had a great run. With 130 stops and $52 million dollars in revenue, the fair showed the music industry just how capable female artists were. Whether female artists were the full lineup, the main act, or simply touring with other women, it would do more than just sell a couple tickets: it could make millions. It is no surprise that the fair faced endless backlash, being called “Girlapalooza” or “breast fest.” It posed a threat to the industry, as exemplified by the general lack of attention and respect that’s been paid to it. While the work of Lilith Fair might seem ancient, in reality much of the same problems exist today. Female artists are still pinned against one another, and festival lineups are still heavily maledominated. Perhaps further coverage and respect towards Lilith Fair would have remedied these issues. A return of Lilith Fair could challenge this toxic culture once again. Rather than female artists feuding and comparing themselves, they should join together. By looking at the guide that was created 30 years ago by artists at Lilith Fair, these artists will see the power that comes when women unite with music. It’s time for women in music to be celebrated again.
Parenthood to local women’s shelters. By the end of the tour’s third and final year, $10 million was raised. This did not go smoothly, as McLachlan and other artists faced endless criticism in the press. However, rather than shying away, artists ran on stage wearing
• Valentina Cunha (Communications/Media Studies)
Designer: Maia Delagneau (Interaction Design)
Gwen Stefani has worn many masks throughout her long career. Introduced first as the lead singer in ska group No Doubt, the group broke into the mainstream with the hit song “Don’t Speak” off their album Tragic Kingdom, which spent a record-breaking 16 weeks at the top of the Billboard Hot 100 chart. Breaking from the group and looking to shift her image from punk princess to Popstar with a capital P, Stefani recorded 2004’s Love. Angel. Music. Baby. The album plays much like the title, with each song being a stab at different concepts, influences, and sounds with little cohesion in between.
“What You Waiting For” sets the album up for a strong start. The song plays as the inner turmoil Stefani experienced when juggling whether to go solo, and is littered with her own fears and anxieties about being a woman in the music industry. The lyrics "Your moment will run out 'cause of your sex chromosome / I know it's so messed up how our society all thinks (for sure)" highlight the sexism Stefani was facing at the time. She worries about the shelf life of her image, and braces herself for the ageism she’ll surely experience. These lyrics are followed by the self-assurance of “Life is short, you’re capable,” highlighting Stefani’s signature confidence that led her to pop stardom.
The album’s best tracks come with this same mix of flirtiness and self-confidence.
“Bubble Pop Electric” and “Crash” are the symphonies of sexual innuendo many recent artists have aimed for, but have been less successful at. The work-hard-play-hard mindset is on full display on “Luxurious,” the perfect soundtrack to a night out after a miserable week of work. “Cool” looks back on Stefani’s previous relationship with No Doubt bassist Tony Kanal in a touching and
bittersweet way, tracking how a relationship can turn back into a friendship. These songs are pop classics that don’t sound archaic in a way that some of the album unfortunately does.
While Love. Angel. Music. Baby. is sometimes dated in its production, it is more glaringly dated in its cultural appropriation. Stefani is able to achieve a level of offensiveness that is as impressive in its range as it is problematic in its material.
In “Hollaback Girl” and its music video, Stefani tries on the SoCal Chola style, largely popularized by first and second generation Mexican-American girls and influenced by hip-hop. The music video uses this style as a way to heighten the assertiveness of the song, playing into negative characterizations of Chola girls’ behavior. Regardless, “Hollaback Girl” remains Stefani’s only No. 1 hit, and is a catchy clap-back song that benefits by being obscured by the album’s most problematic song: “Harajuku Girls.”
The warning signs come early, first on the bridge of “What You Waiting For,” where Stefani first pronounces her love for “you Harajuku girls” who she says “got some wicked style.” This cultural obsession leans into voyeurism on “Harajuku Girls,” of whom Stefani claims to be their “biggest fan.” Stefani defined this album era by her love of all things Harajuku; she hired an entourage of four Japanese women to follow her to red carpets, featured them on her album cover, and titled her first-ever tour as a solo artist “Harajuku Lovers Live.” Stefani has long argued that it was cultural appreciation, not appropriation, that guided these decisions, and that it of course had nothing to do with her forthcoming clothing line Harajuku Lovers. Whatever the inspiration, it’s a
strange and glaring blemish on the album, and on Stefani’s career.
Love. Angel. Music. Baby. ends on another strange note: a collaboration with Andre 3000 titled “Long Way To Go” which samples Martin Luther King Jr. to make a plea for post-racial unity. The song approaches the topic matter with the same playful songwriting applied to the rest of the album, manifesting in the hook “It’s beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer.” It’s a confusing statement to make on an album whose promotional material was completely centered around the Harajuku girls, a Japanese subculture that Stefani has never been a part of. The inclusion of the song speaks to the disjointedness of the album as a whole, yet moments like this don’t eliminate the display of pop perfection. Twenty years later, Love. Angel. Music. Baby. exists to many pop fans as a “problematic fave” or a “guilty pleasure,” anchored by moments of pop excellence that canopy the offensiveness. As pop becomes more personal, it’s worth returning to work that relishes in its unseriousness, although sometimes to a fault.
• James Ryan (Communications/Media Studies)
In 2023, underscores declared that hyperpop is “officially dead.” Her 2021 album, fishmonger, is regarded as a defining moment in the genre; its relentless distortion and wry lyrics, in line with other acts of the time, stood out in its candid display of vulnerability. However, this work quickly became lost in the influx of imitators and uninspired regurgitations of the hyperpop sound after its release. It was clearly time to move on, but as a big name in a self-declared dead genre, where could she and other similarly labeled artists go?
The end of hyperpop is just as ambiguous as its beginning. PC Music, founded in 2013, has been the label most closely associated with the initial development of hyperpop proper, but other internet music lumped in with the genre evolved in parallel. Easy access to digital audio workstations like FL Studio and online communication spaces like Discord allowed teens to rapidly share demos back and forth, creating music that reflected what they were: chronically online. Internet music takes influences from emo, EDM, jersey club, and more, all tinged with equal parts irony and genuine adoration. Particularly appealing for queer artists craving a
“ The end of hyperpop is just as ambiguous as its beginning.”
lane for free expression, the height of internet music built a strong, tolerant online community for them to create in. Largely self-contained in its own right, what came out of this movement was largely supported and validated by PC Music.
Designer: Cami MacMillin
One of the first moments where internet music breached the mainstream was with 100 gecs’ 2019 debut album 1000 gecs. The duo’s vocals are pitched up to the point of near unintelligibility throughout, transforming their voices into dynamic, screeching textures that support the album’s rapid hi-hats and heavy bass. Many were put off by their brusque, in-your-face style, but they could not resist replay. Soon after the success of 1000 gecs, the increasingly popular output of PC Music and the pandemic pushing even more people online converged into a surge in the volume of internet music. Several unofficial sub genres floated around, mostly
created by those on Discord and Reddit, to loosely group the output, including digicore, glitchcore, and hyperflip. To bring the movement to a wider audience, Spotify curated a playlist simply titled “hyperpop.” Spanning the gamut of internet music, it included the likes of Charli xcx, midwxst, SOPHIE, and glaive. In doing so, it gave a name to the amorphous varieties of internet music for those unfamiliar, but also defined a group that had no interest in having a definition. The response was part appreciation for the playlist’s ability to bring a name and legitimacy to the movement and part fear that the official genre title would lead to its own demise.
In the post-pandemic world, the genre has remained in a state of limbo with one foot in the underground and another in the mainstream. The Spotify playlist amassed widespread confusion with its inclusion of such a variety of artists; a listen through could not give anyone a concrete sense of what hyperpop really is. The ability for Spotify to group PC Music output with the depths of internet music and call it all the same was inaccurate, but ultimately, this playlist was the main tastemaker for the genre. A marked turning point in its perception came with the inclusion of the Grammywinning Sam Smith and Kim Petras song “Unholy.” Its forced clangs and dry percussion shot to the top of the charts despite being a stark presentation of the vapid remains that such a vibrant movement had been boiled down to. Where internet music thrived as a celebration of the queer underground, the outweighed success of these mainstream attempts framed the movement as the Pride Month section in Target. General audiences only accessed a bland, commercialized sample of a movement defined by its complexity and depth.
“
The ethos of internet music stemmed from an aversion to imitation, taking from a wide range of material and mocking it by pushing every characteristic to its limits. "
The mix of more experimental and derivative songs zapped inspiration from both ends. The ethos of internet music stemmed from an aversion to imitation, taking from a wide range of material and mocking it by pushing every characteristic to its limits. The intentions of new artists to the scene who wanted to “make hyperpop” rather than just explore their creative limits were antithetical to — and considered disrespectful by — those who started the movement. Looking out at the mangled landscape, many internet artists felt the need to move elsewhere. This begged the question: Was hyperpop dead? The question reverberated through all corners of the internet. Some said it was alive but not thriving in the mainstream, others claimed the title contained too much variety in a single genre and oversimplified the constantly morphing microgenres. The conversation became so convoluted and cyclical that many artists abandoned the question altogether, taking themselves offline to create without any restrictions.
Jane Remover was a big victim of the hyperpop label. Her 2021 album, Frailty, pushed the glitchy elements of internet music to the extreme, balancing them out with nearly ambient, infrequent guitar strumming and distorted vocals. Despite it leaning more emo and industrial, anything glitchy and grainy was grouped with the hyperpop title and all its associations. For her, umbrella terms that attempt to describe such a dynamic scene are extremely limiting. To break away from the bleak categorization, her next album, Census Designated, was a completely new feat. She took away any elements that could be likened to hyperpop,
and took inspiration from shoegaze, noise rock and drone. Her experimental essence remains the same — she completely abandons traditional song structures and fills minutes of space with screams and static, building the soundtrack to a nightmare. Remover’s clean break from internet music embodies its ethos. If you can’t beat them, leave them behind and make something new.
Despite the success of her debut, underscores fell into a space familiar to mainstream pop and internet music artists alike — listeners perceived the rapid, relentless bursts of energy as superficial. Her next album, Wallsocket, proved this entirely wrong. Wallsocket completely scaled up her concept, creating a fictional small town and following its characters through their complex relationships with each other and themselves. In a way it mirrored the criticisms, presenting something seemingly simple and teasing out its nuances to reveal a darkness that lies underneath. Sure fishmonger’s overstimulating nature served as a cover-up, yet it’s not one of perceived perfunctory, but rather of distraction from her inner turmoil. Wallsocket demonstrates that internet music is not just a shtick, it can successfully translate to largescale concepts and holds up when weaved in with complex issues.
Even hyperpop pioneers 100 gecs felt a need to move away from the title on their sophomore album 10,000 gecs. Still altered into oblivion, the album shifts from a base in blown-out everything to a base in absurdism. The focus on theme over style opened up their sound to clearer influences from other genres, including pop-punk, rock, and ska. Despite the duo’s thematic erraticism, their sound’s expansion bridges their abrasive, two-minute bursts of noise with a familiarity that grounds the record’s sound. Influence from internet music is still apparent in tracks like “Dumbest Girl Alive” and “757,” yet it is clear the duo has taken some time to touch grass, realizing that they can retain their outlandish style while using their high-pitched synths and vocal chops more intentionally.
As time goes on, more artists are joining the hyperpop diaspora. Whether moving on to a larger concept, ditching internet music altogether, or using it as a base to push their sound forward, the artists that first defined internet music are collectively moving past it. It is unclear if the progression followed the natural aging of internet music’s young artist base, or was exacerbated by the movement’s commodification. Either way, the drive to push boundaries has stayed consistent, transitioning internet music into a new era, one a bit more removed from the screens.
• TC Stephens (Political Science/Philosophy)
"DO NOT " PLAY
How 9/11 and 160 songs informed modern country music
Three days following the Sept. 11, 2001 attack on the World Trade Center in New York City, over 1,100 radio station program directors across the United States received the same email in their inbox: a list of 160 songs with the memo “do not play.” Songs on the list included Third Eye Blind’s “Jumper,” Bob Dylan’s “Knockin’ on Heaven's Door,” and other popular songs with lyrics or themes that were deemed “questionable” in wake of the attack. Clear Channel (now known as iHeartMedia) is one of the country’s largest radio programmers, reaching over 110 million people weekly in 2024. While the company denies to this day that there was a strict ban on any songs played by their stations after 9/11, the impact of the alleged list would be felt in music for generations. As the weeks following the attack rolled on, the list grew longer. A societal shift was beginning, and Clear Channel’s infamous list was only the start.
It’s important to point out that the list overwhelmingly consisted of metal acts. Every single one of Rage Against The Machine’s songs were banned. Songs that came off as “too happy” were also suggested not to be played (subsequently, most of The Beatles’ catalog was on the list). However, hip-hop and country songs weren’t a part of the ban. At the time, Clear Channel didn’t play much hip-hop at all, which may account for why the genre was left off of their list, but the company’s relationship with the country is a different story. Many of their radio stations played what made sense from a regional perspective. That being said, the channels that were located in the South played a lot of country music. After 9/11, there was a clear uptick in emotional, empowering, pro-community media. Things that were just sad enough to acknowledge the loss of life that took place, but happy enough offer an encouraging message focused on banning together and being strong as a nationwide community. With the unofficial bans in place, a large majority of what was popular pre-9/11 became disengaging to the public. The rise of punk, grunge, and metal that was felt in the 90s came to a screeching halt, as the American people yearned for something that spoke to their communal grief.
The United States government worked swiftly to take a staunch, unwavering stance on what the attacks meant to the country. The term “war on terror” was coined immediately, and political commentators marked the event as the first time since the attack on Pearl Harbor that there was
all around bipartisan support for a U.S. president and administration. During President George W. Bush’s address to congress on September 20, 2001, he stated, “On September 11th, enemies of freedom committed an act of war on our country.” This declaration started a wildfire among American citizens, and the U.S. military saw the single largest enlistment cycle since Pearl Harbor. It was clear the country was heeding President Bush’s words. With the U.S’s soul on fire, pop culture was quick to ride the same wave. With radio bans in place, and popular music genres being effectively censored all together, a new market in the music industry was cropping up.
On Nov. 7, 2001 during the Country Music Association’s annual award ceremony, country songwriter Alan Jackson debuted and performed his song “Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning).” The song spoke directly to the pain and fear Americans experienced in the moments after the attacks on the World Trade center. While the lyrics do not directly express a sense of American nationalism, there are allusions to religion, themes of freedom, and of course, war in the Middle East. Alan Jackson’s song reached No. 28 on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart, and remained there for five weeks. His performance caused an explosive outcry of support, as the country music industry realized they had just stumbled upon their ticket back into the mainstream. Gone were the days of anti-establishment country singers such as Woody Guthrie and Johnny Cash. In the years following, songs such as Toby Keith’s”Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue (The Angry American),” as well as “American Soldier” and Darryl Worley’s “Have You Forgotten?” were released and dominated the country charts. These proAmerican sentiments were digestible for a grieving public, and record labels and radio stations were more than happy to oblige — especially if it meant being able to stay in business and avoid being blackballed by the radio bans.
One would be foolish to deny the effects that politics has on culture, especially music. Music is how we color the sonic walls of life, and much like the sky reflects the blueness of the ocean, music reflects the state of society. The shift in country music following 9/11 is an exemplary case study into the effects of post-radical shifts on music. Although it’s not always as simple as music being a clear cut reactionary action to an event. Due to the nature of the music industry and the money
involved, things are not always as they seem. While one could argue that the patriotic shift in country music after 9/11 came from a genuine place of changing ideologies from the artists themselves, it would be naive to suggest that is 100% the case. The music industry is partially funded by the U.S. government, and the music market can be a fickle one. It can be true that Toby Keith felt an increase in his love for the red white and blue after the attacks, and it can also be true that radio stations were partial to material that wouldn’t end up on the “do not play” list. After all, Keith’s label, Universal Music Group, is funded by American hedge fund manager Bill Ackman, who’s politically well connected. Perhaps more than one motivation was at play.
With Donald Trump having been voted back into office, it’s likely we will see another post-radical shift in the United States (if we aren’t there already). We’ve already seen an uptick in pop country’s mainstream popularity in the last few years, with pop radio often running the same track as country hit stations. Trump has engaged with the country music community throughout his campaigning, with many big names in the genre coming out to support him as a candidate. We can expect to potentially see a similar response to the one in the wake of the attack on the twin towers: increased themes of national pride, patriotism, and traditional Christian values. Alternatively, we could see the genre go back to its roots of protest songs and anti-establishment sentiments. Either way, there is no stopping the reverberation post-radical shifts can cause in music, and culture, at large.
• Ana Poulin (Music Technology)
Designer:
Death Cab for Cutie found humble beginnings in the college town of Bellingham, WA. After a successful cassette of demos in 1997, vocalist and primary lyricist Benjamin Gibbard recruited guitarist and producer Chris Walla, bassist Nick Harmer, and later on, drummer Jason McGerr, to join the band. Before the band knew it, their impassioned yet melancholic indie rock music reached far outside their beloved Seattle scene. Achieving mainstream acclaim in the early 2000s, Death Cab for Cutie garnered placements in popular TV shows such as "Grey’s Anatomy" and "The O.C.", along with multiple Grammy nominations.
In 2014, Walla decided to leave Death Cab for Cutie, due to dissatisfaction with the music the band was working on. Walla’s production had a sizable influence on the band’s sound, and they’ve tried to regain their musical footing since his departure.
Over the years, the band evolved from the fretful adolescent indie rock they originally made. The sincere and evocatively desolate sound that Death Cab has cultivated will inspire indie rockers and singer-songwriters for years to come.
Something About Airplanes (1998)
After playing in multiple bands in the college town of Bellingham, WA and releasing a successful cassette of demos under the name Death Cab for Cutie, Benjamin Gibbard assembled the first iteration of the band and put out their first album, Something About Airplanes
Though the collection of songs had potential, the lo-fi mishmosh of instruments overlaid on Gibbard’s warbling voice sounds meandering and unfocused. This album’s lyricism is quite juvenile; Gibbard whines about failed romance while trying to sound indifferent. It’s not all stunted though. Songs like “Your Bruise” are precursors to the concise yet emotive songwriting that Gibbard became known for, while “Amputations” shows the band’s capacity to create a hard-hitting track through fierce guitars, passionate drumming, and scornful vocal inflections. At the time of release, the album failed to make a splash, but it did help the band catch the attention of their longtime manager, Jordan Kurland.
Tasty Tracks: “Your Bruise”
“Amputations”
“Line of Best Fit”
On We Have The Facts And We’re Voting Yes, Death Cab for Cutie explores the challenges that materialize when entering early adulthood, including the struggles of fitting in somewhere new. After moving to Seattle, the band struggled with the hardships of postcollege life, and songs like “The Employment Pages” and “405” are explicitly tied to their complicated experiences in and around the city. More mellow but more agitated than before, the band builds on their lo-fi influences, and even pushes their sound into the realm of slowcore as they let guitars and drum patterns drone on and dissipate. A highlight is “Company Calls,” which is an oddball in Death Cab’s discography due to how uncharacteristically sardonic Gibbard’s vocals are. The track demonstrates the band’s ability to write an invigorating song whose meaning transcends the storyline detailed in the lyrics. Much of this album is about being lost in life and dealing with change, and the somber sound Death Cab adopted during this era provides a cohesive soundtrack to these unsettling feelings.
Tasty Tracks: “The Employment Pages” “405”
“Company Calls”
The Photo Album (2001)
After achieving what was considered success in the indie-rock world with their past two albums, the members of Death Cab for Cutie quit their day jobs to focus on music as their careers. However, this decision involved quickly recording an album so the band could have new material for a previously booked tour, and thus The Photo Album was created. Death Cab treads familiar ground by writing about failing relationships, but they do so with more contemplative and straightforward lyricism. The band experimented with blatantly non-autobiographical storytelling on “Styrofoam Plates,” a song from the perspective of a child thinking about his late absent and abusive father. This album is also more simple instrumentally, using sparser guitar melodies and more dominant piano lines. While these changes can be attributed to throwing the album together in a rush, these streamlined melodies highlight the band’s aptitude for succinct songwriting. Death Cab’s rushed efforts paid off, and the single “A Movie Script Ending” was featured on The O.C., starting a years-long symbiotic relationship between the show and the band that eventually helped it achieve mainstream success.
Tasty Tracks: “Steadier Footing” “A Movie Script Ending” “Blacking Out the Friction”
Designer: Andrew Wallace (Expereince Design)
Transatlanticism (2003)
Death Cab was an integral part of the indie rock boom of the early 2000s with the release of their album Transatlanticism. In 2003, Gibbard wrote some of the most memorable lyrics of his career, which he contributed to this album and the debut album from his unexpectedly successful side project, The Postal Service. Instead of unclear yet ultra-personal anecdotes, Transatlanticism is marked by a new sense of self awareness. Songs like “Expo ‘86” and “Tiny Vessels” are a polished evolution of the sad-boy lyrics Gibbard wrote for years. The instrumentation is more tightly-knit and intentional than before, and emotion is amplified on classic Death Cab songs “Title and Registration” and “The Sound of Settling” when dynamic guitars reflect Gibbard’s sensitive falsettos or impassioned belts. What makes Transatlanticism such a standout in Death Cab’s discography is the honesty and tenderness infused in its softer moments, whether it be the band’s first true love song, “Passenger Seat,” or acceptance of a faded relationship during the closing track “A Lack of Color.”
Tasty Tracks: “Title and Registration”
“Tiny Vessels”
“A Lack of Color”
Plans (2005)
After the success of Transatlanticism, Death Cab signed to Atlantic Records, making Plans their first major label release. Like previous releases, Gibbard sings about tumultuous relationships, but the songs on Plans have a deeper sense of sadness to them as Gibbard ponders the relationship between love and death. The lyric “love is watching someone die” off of “What Sarah Said” acts as a thesis statement for the album. With Plans came Death Cab’s biggest song “I Will Follow You into the Dark,” which was a surprise to the band. Walla convinced Gibbard to record the track on a whim with just his voice and his acoustic guitar, and this stripped-down instrumentation allows the earnest lyrics about fearlessly following a lover into death to shine through. While being a deviation from the band’s catalog, “I Will Follow You into the Dark” satisfactorily summarizes the themes Plans explores and established Death Cab as a major player in the indie landscape of the 2000s.
Tasty Tracks: “Soul Meets Body”
“Your Heart is an Empty Room”
“Crooked Teeth”
Narrow Stairs (2008)
Death Cab could’ve made records with mainstream appeal, but the band made Narrows Stairs for the fans who stayed once the novelty of Plans faded. To achieve this goal, the band experimented with abrasive textures and darker lyrics. The self indulgent “I Will Possess Your Heart” is a great example of this; melodies are layered and built over four and a half minutes before Gibbard erupts into lyrics from the perspective of an obsessed stalker. While self-involved lyricism had been a staple of Death Cab’s shtick, the band plays with storytelling on this album, and this new approach helped the band move forward rather than regress into overtrodden ideas. Narrow Stairs is the best the band has sounded instrumentally; addictive bass lines hold the album together while inventive drumming and pianos accentuate the band’s usually guitar-heavy sound. Fittingly, Death Cab refused to stagnate on an album about the numbness of complaisance.
Tasty Tracks: “I Will Possess Your Heart” “Cath…”
“Long Division”
Codes and Keys (2011)
After a series of career highs, Death Cab couldn’t please everyone. Codes and Keys is divisive due to how much the band departs from their guitar oriented sound and dreary lyrics. That’s not to say the album doesn’t have depressing points; although it is one of the more optimistic Death Cab records, Gibbard conjures up images of death, graveyards, and losing faith in religion with his lyricism. However, those images are juxtaposed with the hopefulness in “You Are A Tourist” and the sweetness in the love songs “Unobstructed Views” and “Stay Young, Go Dancing.” The band opts for meandering keyboards and pop-oriented digital production, which uncovers an interesting sound that the band hasn’t explored before at best and drags on aimlessly at worst. While not the band’s strongest work, Codes and Keys was a first step into exploring what Death Cab could sound like if they steered away from self-loathing indie rock and instead embraced a more lighthearted sound.
Tasty Tracks: “You Are A Tourist”
“St. Peter’s Cathedral”
“Stay Young, Go Dancing”
Kintsugi (2015)
Halfway through the making of Kintsugi, Walla decided to leave Death Cab for Cutie. For the first time, a Death Cab record featured none of his production, and a drop in quality ensued. Kintsugi features more digital instrumentation than before, which obscures the guitarwork and vocals that made the band so distinct. Instead, the band embraced a pop sound and overtly personal lyricism. In 2012, Gibbard and actress Zooey Deschanel got divorced after three years of marriage, and three years later, Gibbard hadn’t moved past it. “No Room in Frame” all but names Deschanel as Gibbard laments over the end of their relationship, and nearly half the songs on the album seem to allude to the separation. The anguish Gibbard conveys doesn’t feel as pronounced as one may think on this album, as muddy production and the monotonous volume of the music zaps any emotional intensity out of this collection of songs. Kintsugi is what happens when Death Cab becomes too self-indulgent.
Tasty Tracks: “No Room in Frame”
“The Ghosts of Beverly Drive”
“Everything’s a Ceiling”
Thank You For Today (2018)
Death Cab didn’t quite return to their former glory on Thank You for Today, but they did come closer to redefining their sound. Guitarist Dave Depper and keyboardist Zac Rae joined the band, and their arrival brought back some of the passion Death Cab was missing. While the band doesn’t stray from the pop sound they established on Kintsugi, they expand on it by adding more instrumental flourishes instead of letting digital production do the heavy lifting. Lyrically, the band enters a new stage of life on this album. They aren’t writing airtight indie anthems twinged with angst like on Transatlanticism or Plans, but instead opt for smaller-scoped songs sprinkled with introspection and maturity. “Gold Rush” views Seattle’s changes over the years with bittersweet acceptance rather than malice, and “Northern Lights” and “When We Drive” reflect on relationships with appreciation for the past and no expectations for the future. Death Cab is a different band at this point than they were ten years ago, which may not be a bad thing.
Tasty Tracks: “When We Drive” “Northern Lights” “Near/Far”
Asphalt Meadows (2022)
2020 was a year full of isolation and sadness, but these negative circumstances helped Death Cab revitalize their sound and create what the band has referred to as their most collaborative album to date. Asphalt Meadows takes a self-reflective approach to addressing the anxieties and fears caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. “I Don’t Know How I Survive” and “Roman Candles” show the emotional turmoil caused by seclusion in a tone that is troubled and thoughtful instead of panicked, while “I Miss Strangers” and “Wheat Like Waves” reflect on how time and space can redefine the relationships people have to themselves and others. This album also reintroduces the guitar-oriented sound Death Cab is known for, while honing in on their more recent pop production to better suit moments of urgency. The catchy guitar melodies and piano moments intertwine to create a contemplative sound that has mellowed out with the band, but that’s not to say Asphalt Meadows is boring. Instead, it’s apparent that Death Cab has finally found a balance between live instrumentation and digital production, and has achieved a lyrical maturity that acts as a refreshing change from their past few albums.
Tasty Tracks: “Roman Candles” “Asphalt Meadows” “Here to Forever”
• Rilyn Szabo (Behavioral Neuroscience/Design)
Clairo, Roadrunner
Photo by Coby Sugars (International Business)
Sometimes you hear a song live and know, intrinsically, that’s the way it’s meant to be heard. The drums reverberate in your bones, you feel the notes dancing around you, and something about it is different than putting your headphones on. It’s fluid. It’s tangible. It’s alive. Every ounce of your being answers to the music.
While short of being in the crowd, live albums offer a vivid gateway to this sensation. For decades, musicians have released recordings of live performances, gifting fans raw extensions of their work. Concerts are liminal spaces — they bring fans somewhere new, and a live album pulls back the veil on that experience. There is something inherently personal about them — they exist in a singular moment, aligned in time and space. Even after post-production editing, they sound unfiltered and free of manipulation. That level of honesty and connection can be more palpable than music recorded in a studio setting.
It’s difficult to pinpoint the first recorded live album, but Benny Goodman’s The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert is a contender. This performance marked a pivotal moment for jazz music and diverse representation in performances. At this time,
can hear the crowd’s reaction, with some of the album’s tracks only capturing the applaud between songs. The audience’s first applause halfway through “Don’t Be That Way” and their enthusiasm as they roared for an encore are cemented in history. 86 years later, we can still listen in on that monumental night in music history — we can be part of that crowd.
The crackle of the recording on The Famous 1938 Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert drops you squarely in 1938, but today, recording practices are far more advanced. Technicians can record each stage input through a splitter and mix them through multi-track recording techniques. Room mics capture the sound from the audience, which producers add to capture a show’s atmosphere. This complex and involved process ensures that the album that listeners receive postshow is as close a reflection as possible of the concert itself.
Live albums can capture the essence of concerts in many ways, like by acknowledging audience members as active participants in the music. While subject to post-production manipulation, Johnny Cash’s At Folsom Prison sometimes sounds like a conversation between Cash and his audience of incarcerated people at Folsom
tumultuous relationship and subsequent breakup inspired the song’s lyrics, and the tension between the two musicians is palpable in the recording. At the end of the final chorus, Nicks repeats the phrase “never get away” over the rest of the band, the angry rasp in her voice symbolically pointing a finger in Buckingham’s direction. The 1997 performance of “Silver Springs” also demonstrates how fan behavior can be a marketing tool for artists. Artists can market a specific concert as a recorded event or accept invitations to record live performances, as with current Spotify Sessions or old MTV Unplugged performances. The most famous Unplugged, from Nirvana, was released almost seven months after lead singer Kurt Cobain’s suicide. This was Nirvana’s only live album and remains unique to the band’s discography in its predominantly acoustic production. They opted to play some lesser-known tracks from their discography, supplementing the rest of the 14-song setlist with covers. Perhaps the most impactful quality of the album is Cobain himself. His request for the stage to resemble a funeral, the snippets of self-deprecating talk at the beginning or end of each song, and the rawness of his vocal performance all give the album a premonitory quality. You can’t help but dwell on where Cobain and Nirvana could have gone. You also can’t help but listen in awe to how the band existed at that precise moment. Cobain’s choice to raise an octave on the last line of “Where Did You Sleep Last Night” will forever ring in history, a beautifully broken end to a concert that displayed his mastery.
Where studio recordings may limit possibilities, live performances set artists free. From the additions they can make to tried and true songs — new solos, lyrics, and more — to the stories they tell between them, artists’ personalities shine through in a live setting. Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra’s represents the payoff of taking such risks. Inspired by his enjoyment of classical music, bassist Cliff Burton proposed the collaboration before his death in 1986. Michael Kamen, who first suggested to the band that they play “Nothing Else Matters” with a full orchestra, composed the symphonic contributions and conducted the orchestra for S&M, which finally got its release in 1999. The marriage of heavy metal and classical music is mesmerizing. Both styles enhance the qualities of the other, with the orchestral elements infusing songs like “One,” “Enter Sandman,” and “For Whom the Bell Tolls” with an urgent cinematic quality. Metallica’s instrumental hit “The Call of Ktulu,” in particular, soars. The song feeds on the evocative energies of heavy metal and classical music as it builds, never once faltering in its nearly ten-minute runtime. Critics received S&M positively, and in 2001, Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra won the Grammy Award for Best Rock Instrumental Performance for “The Call of Ktulu.” The live setting gave them the chance to blend and bend the constraints of their respective genres to create a revolutionary product. The niche live albums in the music industry occupy is irreplaceable. They synthesize the listening experience into a product for all audiences, and for those without the opportunity to see their favorite artists live, these albums break down barriers to entry. Nothing can ever truly capture the magic of witnessing live music, but live albums come exceptionally close. The drums might not reverberate in your bones, but if you put your headphones on and close your eyes, the notes still ring — feeling nearly as fluid, tangible, and alive.
Kayli Harley (Communication Studies)
Design:
Emily
Kobren (Design)
On Sept. 24 in AfterHours, Tastemakers held its annual Battle of the Bands in collaboration with Green Line Records. The winner was Breakfast Beers, a newly formed band, comprised of Rachel Lightman (bass guitar), Ryan Schwartz (lead guitar), Hayden Budofsky (drums), and Johann Blackwell (vocals and rhythm guitar). In the midst of their recording process, Tastemakers met with the band to discuss their inspirations, aspirations, and preferred libations.
This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.
An Interview With
Breakfast Beers Breakfast Beers
Tastemakers Magazine (TMM): How did you all meet each other?
Rachel Lightman (RL): We have a mutual friend named John Eckert.
Ryan Schwartz (RS): Three of us lived on the same floor in Kerr Hall, the music dorm, our freshman year.
Hayden Budofsky (HB): We did little dorm shows pretty often.
RL: We jammed together once during our first semester. John invited me because I was the bassist in his other band.
HB: It’s all because of John Eckert.
TMM: How long have you formally been Breakfast Beers?
RL: That’s got to be within this semester because we were Squirt Cobain before. Johann Blackwell (JB): Never formally! Well, we first played together in June, and then I wrote “Brown Out.” And then we came back this semester and said, “We’re gonna do it for real.” And now we are a real band.
TMM: Can you tell me about the name?
JB: There were a lot of different names that we were trying to choose between and we couldn’t really decide. But then, Rachel got me a magnet for the fridge that said “Beer, the reason I wake up in the afternoon” or something and I was like, "What about Breakfast Beers?"
RS: I liked it. I thought it had more of a deep
meaning. I feel like the other names had rings to them, but they didn’t have something you could really internalize as kind of a philosophical sentence. I think Breakfast Beers has implications. I think it speaks to our nature as breakout musicians.
HB: I think people see the name and they’re like, “Wow, I wanna wanna listen. What are they like?”
TMM: What’s your songwriting process like?
RS: It always starts with Johann.
JB: Guys, come on. I’ll bring something like a little riff, and we work on it as a group. I like that it’s very collaborative. I’ll have some parts and then in every song I will be like “I need another part” and Ryan will come up with it or Rachel will have a cool bass line. Sorry Hayden. He’ll still do something cool. Everyone puts their little piece in.
RL: But we always start with a riff or something that Johann brings, or even [Hayden] brought something once, right?
HB: Sometimes we play and then I’m like “Huh, what if we do something like this,” but Johann’s the songwriter.
JB: I’ll be sitting in my room and messing around and I’ll record it and then I’ll be like, “Wait, guys, this is gonna be really, really good.” Then I’ll go in and sometimes it fizzles out. But then sometimes everyone is like, “Oh, that’s cool” and we’ll join in and play.
But I think the way I think about writing is not every single song is going to be a hit. You have something and if it’s cool, it’s cool. If
it’s not, I’ll make my solo double album when the band breaks up like George Harrison. All Things Must Beer.
TMM: So what’s next for you guys? How’s working with Green Line Records?
RL: We’ve had a couple of meetings. We have one with creative services planned. We had one with [the recording team] like a week ago. We’re going to record a single with them in the Green Line studio and then they’re gonna mix it with all of us there. It’s a very hands-on process for us, and then the creative services team is going to ask us if we want social media posts or a Spotify bio or any of the other things on their very extensive artist menu. And the A&R department is the one that’s setting up these meetings with all of the other departments. The rest is going to be done by the end of the semester.
TMM: Why did you choose to record “Brown Out”?
JB: I think it’s the best single. I mean, it’s like three minutes long. But, I don’t know, It’s the first song we did.
RL: It’s sentimental to us.
JB: Yeah, sentimental, but I think it’s also that the other ones are like five-and-a-half minutes long and I think this one’s a good first impression of what we sound like.
TMM: What beer are you having for breakfast?
JB: A PBR. You got to go classic.
HB: It’s economic I’d say. I like a Blue Moon.
RL: With an orange?
HB: Yeah, with an orange.
RS: Corona with a lime. Maybe a Stella.
RL: I would do a Coors Light, but this shirt is Guinness, so.
RS: But we don’t drink, only Hayden drinks.
TMM: Right, this is all hypothetical. Where do you find inspiration?
JB: My favorite band is Alice in Chains, but I would say I listen to a lot of stuff. I like a lot of rock, but then a lot of my other stuff will
be a lot more folky, like Elliot Smith or Nick Drake I think it really that’s something that’s tricky for me is that it’s so hard to put down a genre because I feel like this stuff we come up with, it’s not just, “Oh, this is a metal song,” or “This is a shoegaze dream pop song.” It’s an amalgamation. It’s like the beer in the bitch cup.
• Trevor Gardemal (Journalism)
Photographer: Peter Phelan (Business Administration)
Cityscape, EDM, and Individuality: A Brief Look at South/East Asian Club Music
EDM has taken over Asia. From the taxi radio to the elderly dancing in the park, the influence of electronic dance music (EDM) is undeniable in urban areas spanning the continent. To grasp this influence, one must trace EDM’s origins and understand how it crossed the Atlantic, eventually reaching the dance floors of the average club in Saigon and Manila.
EDM’s roots can be traced back to the 70s to a Black, gay nightclub in Chicago called The Warehouse. Here was where the house genre coined its name and developed as an electronic intersection between the disco and soul genres. A defining feature of house — and EDM more broadly — is its fluidity, seamlessly blending genres through the medium of soundboards and computers. This
versatility has made house music widely accessible, attracting a diverse audience and contributing to its global dominance.
Seeing its peak at the end of the 20th century, EDM’s development is closely tied to globalization. With access to the internet, other parts of the world were able to listen and adapt to the electronic influence prevalent in Europe and North America. As the concepts of nightclubs make their way from the West to Southeast Asian countries, club-goers are then exposed to and influenced by Western EDM. The product of this exposure is a variety of EDM subgenres that borrow the bones of Western EDM and mix them with the personality and music styles of Southeast Asia.
Vietnam: Vinahouse
For the past decade, Vinahouse has proven to be integral to the Vietnamese nightclub scene. Taking influence from its precursor, Chicago house music, it has typical elements one would hear in any house track: a 4/4 time signature with a strong kick drum pattern and each beat, 117-133 BPM beat, and a repeated chorus that is developed with new signature motifs as the song goes on. Often, Vinahouse DJs will sample old Vietnamese bolero ballads or the new V-pop hits and construct a track out of the verses. These are then combined with the typical build-up to drop structure. Young Vietnamese club-goers are then able to connect the music of their youth, heard through their grandparents’ old radio players, to a trendy and heavily electronic rendition of the same music. The replicability of the genre allows the merging of popular and older Vietnamese music to be played, through layers of heavy remixing, at the nightclub. DJs would get creative with their remixes and even include folk songs and children's tunes to be played at raves and nightclubs.
Indonesia: Jedag-Jedug
Back in September, TikTok was filled with videos of cheerleaders for the Kia Tigers, a South Korean baseball team, dancing to the jedag - jedug tune made by DJ Prengky Gantay. Indonesian EDM is known by two names: the more popular ‘Full Bass’ on YouTube and "Jedag-jedug," a term that gained traction primarily on TikTok. The genre borrows songs and elements of the Indonesian music genre Dangdut–a genre that combines Hindi, Arabic, Javanese, Malay, and local folk music–which is then combined with a catchy, squeaky, and sonically saturated track. When listening to jedag-jedug, one should look out for the appearance of the kendang, a two-headed traditional Indonesian drum. The kendang brings in the beachy element to the track that transports the listener to the humid, salty islands in Indonesia. Outside of the digital realm, jedag-jedug is popular in community events and Indonesian aerobics. Online, on the other hand, the genre is saturated with videos of Indonesian women dancing and embracing their femininity.
Philippines: Budots
Budots is arguably the campiest of the South Asian EDM subgenres. The genre finds its influence in house and techno, intersected with
tagonggo rhythms that belong to Indigenous communities in the Philippines islands. The tagonggo music is played in traditional Indigenous rituals and utilizes six to eight hanging gongs in a pentatonic scale, called the tagunggoan, as the main instrument. The attention-grabbing and jarring production combined with its squeaky, high-pitched whistle hooks is what makes Budots so charming. It attracts on-lookers. This is key to the subgenre as it was created to be music for the freestyle street dancers of the Bisaya-speaking region of the Philippines. Budots DJs include sounds and elements of the Filipino streets to immerse the listener in the candid nature of this genre. The genre seems to have a mixed perception by the Filipino masses as some associate the genre with sexuality, drugs, and gangs, while on the other hand, it is a genre that promotes community and self-expression.
India: Goa Trance/Psytrance
Goa trance or psytrance was a subgenre born out of the Germany-influenced "trance" which consists of a 128-150 BPM and tends to be a mix of Techno and House. The name "psytrance" is made up of the words "psychedelic" and "trance," highlighting the intention of the genre to influence your state of mind through EDM. The genre finds its roots in the city of Goa, India during the 1960s where it developed as dance music for festivals for Indian hippies, held at the beach. While the usage of psychedelics was integral to its development, the genre in itself strives to alter the consciousness of its listeners through the music. With a drone-like and repetitive bass line layered with a complex, hypnotic melody - psytrance tracks are meant to occupy and engage the minds of their listeners on all levels. Moreover, the building of sonic atmospheric tension is fundamental to all psytrance tracks. In the context of a rave, the psytrance tracks will be continuous to encourage the listeners to be stuck in the music-induced trance throughout the night.
• Mia Nguyen (Political Science/International Affairs)
Designer: Heidy Hur (Design)
Over the last five decades, technology has rocked how people
From the invention of the Sony Walkman to the MP3 player, portable listening became the standard in the 80s. Gone were the days of bulky and costly stereos; now, the general public could play a song from a device that fits in their hand. Today, thanks to the boom in streaming services, music portability is at an all-time high, giving the listener a world of music at their fingertips.
Smothered by digital consumption were vinyl records, initially kept alive by a niche of devoted individuals. In a world where casual digital listening is the norm, purchasing a record is a total commitment for most collectors. Vinyl costs a premium: The retail price of one standard LP can be worth up to three times the monthly cost of a streaming service where entire catalogs of music are accessible.
Playing an album on vinyl in its entirety is also physically more involved, forcing the listener to interrupt their activities to flip the record or change the disc. In return, vinyl rewards its consumers with their favorite music in a high-quality audio experience, along with detailed artwork and inserts that offer a visual component to their listening. Each crackle and pop is a nostalgia-tinged reminder of a time when music could be consumed without ad-breaks or online influence, granting those who drop the needle time alone with their favorite music in its truest form — contradicting the appeals of portability. But in the last few years, vinyl records have grown enormously in popularity despite going against the grain. In 2022, vinyl alone accounted for $1.2 billion of physical media sales in the United States, outselling CDs for the first time since the late 80s. This did not come out of nowhere. Vinyl sales have trended upward for the better part of the last two decades, according to music data tracking organization Luminate. The resurgence began primarily in smaller record stores as more indie artists began looking for ways to house their music on the since-forgotten medium. When larger retailers such as Target and Walmart eventually started stocking vinyl on their shelves, general interest surged, leading manufacturers to open additional plants to
match the heightened demand.
Much of vinyl’s resurgence can also be traced to social media influence, namely a community of Gen Z collectors on TikTok dedicated to vinyl collection. That community, nicknamed “VinylTok,” has grown in numbers since its inception. At the time of writing, the #VinylTok tag has over 238,000 posts, with videos ranging from people showing off their collections to offering advice to newer collectors, such as how to store records or what to look for in a record player. Their impact has spread far beyond the confines of the app, further inflating the number of records sold each year and causing a spike in the number of vinyl retailers open worldwide. An article published by the BBC reported that the number of independent record stores in the UK has reached a new peak of 461 for the first time in ten years, partly thanks to the increased demand from VinylTok.
As vinyl sales continued to grow, artists with the resources to do so have populated the market with different versions of their albums pressed on vinyl. Taylor Swift has been a catalyst in this movement, beginning with the release of eight versions of her 2020 album Folklore, each containing a different cover art and colored disc. In the years since Folklore’s release, dropping multiple vinyl variants of a singular album has become an industry norm for all modern artists. The resurgence has also allowed artists to release their back catalogs in new vinyl variants, in some cases for the first time. Rihanna’s “Rih-Issues” is a prime example of this: Each of her past albums was re-released in exclusive quantities on colored vinyl and shipped along with a t-shirt that matches the album. Britney Spears’ discography saw a similar re-release in 2020, with colored pressings of her albums sold exclusively on Urban Outfitters.
Developing multiple vinyl variants of an album has given consumers a previously untapped choice within their record collecting, but it has also popularized an obvious ploy for artists to game their numbers. More and more records see staggered releases in limited quantities or are packed with exclusive content, pressuring devoted fans to buy multiple copies quickly to get the whole experience or miss out
Designer: Syd Tomasello (Graphic Design)
entirely. Spreading out content releases is a clever marketing tactic that can produce natural engagement, one that Charli xcx admitted was a driving element to the rollout of Brat in an interview with Zane Lowe, saying, “You kind of have to starve the audience, drip-feed the tap, to get the viewer into this feverish state where they actually want more.” In Charli’s case, more than 20 vinyl variants of Brat were released in intervals, teased on her private Instagram before seeing public releases, and often dropped with limited quantities not to be pressed again.
But too many artists have been blatantly obvious in their intentions when promoting these variants, leaving a sour taste in the mouths of fans and critics alike. Consider the release of Swift’s 2022 release Midnights. When she announced the album at that year’s VMA awards, one vinyl variant was made available for pre-order on her website. Days later, three additional variants were listed for pre-order, marked as “special edition,” to be sold for one week only. The three limited-run copies did depart Swift’s website at the end of their preorder window but returned several times before the album’s release, whether to move signed inserts or promote a clock that could be assembled by hanging the back covers of all four variants on the wall. Each time, they were listed as special edition copies and only available briefly. Today, you can still find the three variants on Swift’s website, all for the same price as the standard edition vinyl.
became infamous for edging indie artists out of record plants. The album required a six-month advance to produce the high volume, during which many plants lacked the capacity to press other albums. 30 ultimately did not meet the demand it set out for itself, selling only 318,000 of its original vinyl copies in its first two months, but its chokehold on major plants caused delays of up to nine months for other artists looking to press their albums.
It’s also hard to ignore the damage the vinyl production process is to the environment. The PVC pellets that are eventually heated and pressed into a vinyl disc are synthesized from carcinogenic chemicals, releasing toxic fumes into the air during the manufacturing process. The process produces toxic wastewater, which eventually pollutes other bodies of water when dumped into an unassuming lake or river, and the aged vinyl production methods require high amounts of energy to facilitate, producing large amounts of greenhouse gases across the plants involved in the production process. The lack of sustainability has caught the attention of artists like Billie Eilish, who spoke out against these practices in an interview with Billboard this May, saying, “I find it really frustrating as somebody who really goes out of my way to be sustainable… and then it’s some of the biggest artists in the world making fucking 40 different vinyl packages that have a different unique thing just to get you to keep buying more.”
Despite capturing the zeitgeist and spawning a dedicated online community, it’s unclear whether the vinyl resurgence will continue strong or fizzle out. The average retail price of a vinyl record has inflated significantly due to continued production delays and costly material prices, with the average pressing costing anywhere from $30 to almost $100. If artists and manufacturers wish for vinyl to succeed for years to come, it’s vital for them to consider concerns of overconsumption and environmental harm and understand why consumers collect vinyl in the first place.
Jackson Laramee (Journalism/Communication Studies)
2. What artist loves winter, and has depression in the summer?
6. This song is playing when Bella Swan is depressed in The Twilight Saga: New Moon.
7. Something chocolatey to drink to make you feel better.
8. Which band likes to let it linger?
10. What artist name involves ape-like animals in a cold region?
DOWN
1. Who defrosts on November 1st?
3. The 1975 made "winter" a verb in this song from their album "Being Funny in a Foreign Language."
4. Which One Direction member has a Christmas song?
5. Which indie artist releases a song every Christmas season?
9. Album by Reneé Rapp with the song "I Hate Boston."
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST
It’s that time of the semester...cold streets, cold weather and darkness by 4 p.m. That's why Tastemakers is sharing our favorite "winter depression" bops to help you get through those finals and brave through the January snowstorms!
"Killer" - Phoebe Bridgers
"This City" - Sam Fischer
"Diamond Eyesl" - Deftones
"The Moon Doesn't Mind" - Lord Huron
"So Much Wine" - Phoebe Bridgers
"Big Black Car" - Gregory Alan Isakov
"Beautiful People Beautiful Problems"Lana Del Rey
"A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be"Jess Benko "Roslyn" - Bon Iver
"High and Dry" - Radiohead "Night Shift" - Lucy Dacus "Linger" - The Cranberries
ZOOMED
Can you tell which six album covers we’ve zoomed in on?
FIND PETE
We’ve hidden Pete Wentz somewhere in this issue. Find him and maybe something cool will happen...
