Vinyl Tap Spring 2022 by Vinyl Tap Magazine

Spring 2022

Art by Evelyn Hall 3

Foreword:

Meet the Staff!

Headshots by Evelyn Hall / Passports by Justin Berg / Map art by Laura Reitze

Dear Reader, It is time for a change. After two years of not traveling, of spending many afternoons alone in our rooms, of canceled study abroad programs, it only made sense for this issue of Vinyl Tap to turn to wider horizons. We pushed beyond the walls of our campus and looked at ways to connect with the world at large, with a focus on global adventures and art. Our writers explored the most unexpected of places to find and share international experiences, music, and cultures. Our issue highlights questions such as — how can we connect to our family’s history, how we can study music from its cultural and social origins, and how playing music in the background of our adventures makes our surroundings feel more important? One article gives an introduction to lesser-known musicians of the French Canadian music scene. Another details an unforgettable afternoon of singing songs with drunk farmers in the Irish Countryside. Another explores how William and Mary students immerse themself in their study abroad experiences and their takeaways. We also highlight campus organizations, from Appalachian Music Ensemble to an exploration of multiple Asian student organizations. It’s clear that we don’t have to go far from campus to connect to other parts of the world. We also write a goodbye letter to the WCWM station, sharing how the station impacted our friendships, growth, and lives. We were only there for a little while, but for most of us it did not take long to feel like home. From the stickers and doodles on the walls, to records lining just about everywhere, to the slightly grody chairs (I say this with love), this place was distinctly ours. It may be our last semester using the space, but its influence extends far beyond its walls. This semester has seen quite an influx of writing for our magazine, but each piece is thoughtful, intelligent, well-written, and brings a new perspective. I am truly blown away by our staff this semester. And of course, as always, we have some pretty amazing albums and haiku reviews, art, and photos to share with you all. Lastly, I would be remiss if I didn’t take a moment to reflect on my time here on Vinyl Tap. This magazine means the world to me. It’s given me some of my most cherished moments of college and it is one of the things that I am most proud of doing here. The people I have had the pleasure of working beside are some of the funniest, hard working, talented, and supportive people I have ever met. They’re lifelong companions. Next year, there’ll be a big Vinyl Tap-shaped hole in my heart. But I’ll cherish these memories for the rest of my life and one thing’s for sure, I’ll be a Vinyl Tap reader ‘till the day I die. Catch you on the flip side, Isabel Haber Editor-in-Chief

Contents Travel Music, Montages, and Memories

Nathan Hall contemplates the relationship between music and travel

An Outsider’s Introduction to French Canadian Music

Justin Berg writes about a rich world of music to the north

What Can We Learn? 32 Terra Sloane interviews William & Mary students to find the biggest takeaways from their study abroad experiences

All Around Asia 39 After speaking to students about how they connect to their cultures through music, Vivian Hoang maps out these individual relationships while reflecting on her own identity along the way

Around the World in 80 Songs: a Playlist

Staff shares songs that scream “travel”

La Vida en Canción (or, A Life in Song)

Natalie Lopez reflects on the way her relationship with Latin music has been influenced through her life

Studio Ghibli Films 50 Abby Johnson explores the music of Joe Hishaishi

Exploring Ethnomusicology Mary Beth Bauermann introduces the scholarly field of ethnomusicology

Appalachian Music Ensemble Profile Jack Stewart interviews Appalachian Music Ensemble Director, Tripp Johnson

Drinking Songs and Human Connection Erin Collier recalls an unforgettable afternoon in the Irish Countryside

Saying Goodbye to Our Station Vinyl Tap staff & alumni write about what the WCWM station meant to them

Album Reviews Joywave – Cleanse

alt-J – The Dream

FKA Twigs – CAPRISONGS

Palace – Shoals

Hippo Campus – LP3

Otoboke Beaver – Itekoma Hits

The Lumineers – BRIGHTSIDE

Black Country, New Road – Ants From Up There

Haiku Reviews

Art by Evelyn Hall

Imagine a late-night train ride. Maybe you’re on a subway, or a bullet train, or maybe it’s the Alaskan Railroad. You’re weary from a day’s travel, you have your backpack at your feet, and your headphones are in. Now imagine that train is a plane, and you’re coming in for a landing over a sparkling river in the early morning. You turn off your inflight movie and settle in to some music as the landing gear creaks open. Perhaps instead, you’re driving a car on a distant, winding road, and you punch the radio on. Or maybe, you’re just on a walk, and you need to tune your mind out for a bit. There’s something powerful about the pairing of music and travel that’s difficult to explain. Why do we make playlists for road trips, evenings at the airport, or dewy mornings at campsites? What is it about music in the background of our adventures that makes our surroundings feel more important? Since we’re talking about the association of music with travel, I can’t help but bring up The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, directed by Ben Stiller. If you know me, then you know I have a weird fascination and emotional connection to this movie. Walter (also Ben Stiller) lives a boring, monotonous office job

as an asset manager at a magazine, and while searching for a precious photo negative, he ventures to extreme locales, jumps out of a helicopter in Greenland, out-drives a volcano eruption in Iceland, and plays soccer in the Himalayas, all while gaining a new appreciation of the world. The writing is goofy, the characters aren’t amazing, and the plot sounds pretty standard. But what makes this movie so special is that the theme of finding courage, choosing exploration, and uncovering enthusiasm for life is not always spelled out in words. Instead, all it takes is a few gorgeous travel montages, with the most perfectly selected music playing in the background, to stir up some wild passion within me. Walter is alone for most of these moments, so no dialogue is exchanged. The cinematography is great, but for me, these are musical scenes more than anything. The soundtrack is one that leaves me not only moved, but desperate to get out into the world. In other words, the music makes the movie’s point for it; you’re just watching the characters experience its message. Just as we take inspiration from the music we listen to as we travel, it’s almost like Walter is hearing his own soundtrack.

One of the reasons I could rant about this movie all day is because every time I see it, I feel like it’s talking directly to me. In one of the most iconic scenes, he’s just bartered with some local Icelandic kids for a longboard after his borrowed bike got smashed. He has a cut on his forehead, unkempt facial hair, a ripped sweater, and nothing but a tiny drawstring bag on his back. When he sees his destination far away in a valley, he (very symbolically) rips his tie into strips, ties flat stones to his hands as padding, and downhill longboards through gorgeous Iceland scenery, grinning and laughing as he rockets along to Junip’s “Far Away.” In scenes like this, music accompanies Walter along his journey, and the audience gets to watch him grow through his experiences, rather than 19

merely through conversation. The soundtrack reflects his feelings and internal state, and inspires us to create our own spontaneous and even harrowing journeys. It means something to us, because it means something for Walter.

When I experience something sublime, or come across a landscape that I know I may never see again, the music that I listen to in that moment is important to me. It encapsulates my feelings — something a camera can’t do. One of the reasons I could rant about this movie all day is because every time I see it, I feel like it’s talking directly to me. I often struggle with over-anticipating new experiences and avoiding the chaos that comes with adventurous decisions, so I won’t pretend that the film didn’t partially inspire my own trip to Iceland last summer. I was on my own for 10 days, in a little car, staying in hostels and people’s farmhouses in the middle of nowhere. But I did have cell service, and that meant I had music. Throughout that whole trip, I lived my own little travel montage scenes, with my own soundtrack I had created (think “Figure 8” by Peach Pit, “Blue Bell” by Golden Daze, and “It Must Be Easy” by the Fruit Bats). Maybe it’s a little dramatic, but the addition of music seemed to accentuate my surroundings and connect me to the world. I felt empowered and emboldened, and at times, surreal. Music, both in real life and in film and TV, also has a profound effect on memory, at least for me. The reason why this is important for traveling is because there are some moments that can’t just be captured 20

by a photo or explained verbally. When I experience something sublime, or come across a landscape that I know I may never see again, the music that I listen to in that moment is important to me. It encapsulates my feelings — something a camera can’t do. This is why films are choosy about the music they use during travel montages: sometimes displaying an incredible landscape is not enough to make the audience feel a specific way. Just as I may think of a certain scene every time I hear the song it accompanied, I listen to music as I travel to form more vivid and important memories associated with certain songs. When a song comes on that encapsulates what I’m feeling, or what I want to feel, I know a memory is being formed. There’s something magical about that moment, not just because it’s happening, but because we know that we will relive it again every time we hear those songs.

Photos by Nathan Hall

V IN Y L TA P TA K ES A TR IP

Sources: Retro Scraps on Blogspot, freeiconspng.com

Postcards from fuzzimo.com

Photos by Evelyn Hall & Catherine Henry

An Outsider’s Introduction to French Canadian Music By Justin Berg The summer of 2019, my sister and I were walking through Quebec City, in tourist fashion, when we came across an open-air concert. The singer had admirable harmonica chops and a folksy charm, so I was more than happy to stay awhile. I put some lyrics into Genius, found the performer’s name — Tire le Coyote — and saved a few songs to the month’s playlist as a souvenir. So began a headlong plunge into the world of French Canadian music. It’s been a way to indulge the French-class kid in me, and to explore a place that’s different from the ones I know well. French Canada is most associated with the eastern region of Quebec, although French speakers in neighboring New Brunswick and a few other communities can’t be left out. Surrounded by a country of English speakers, Quebec’s government in particular tries to maintain the region’s cultural autonomy by promoting the use of French. What distinguishes French Canada is largely, of course, the French language, and that’s important to many of its people in terms of heritage and attracting tourism. I also recognize that it’s part of what makes the area’s music feel “different” and worth exploring to me. As a matter of fact, Quebec’s policies extend to music, with the government funding efforts to support francophone artists. Radio stations are also generally required to play majority French-language music, and music played in government buildings and on phone lines has to be Quebecois and mainly in French. Regulations like these are controversial among French Canadians and likely stifle plenty of indigenous and English-language music that’s just as “Quebecois.” In any 28

case, they’re part of what lets the region support such a rich ecosystem of francophone musicians. Some features of this community include music festivals like Francouvertes, which highlights emerging Quebecois artists, and FEQ, the festival I stumbled upon in 2019. Quebec also has ADISQ, a nonprofit which supports the Quebecois music industry and puts on an annual awards ceremony, the ADISQ Gala. The organization also posts a top sales chart for the region. Since coming across Tire le Coyote, I’ve explored French Canada’s musical culture with fascination. For a few years now, I’ve enjoyed discovering new music through lighthearted research, the ADISQ sales chart, and especially automated recommendations. It’s interesting to look into where each artist is from and who they’ve worked with in the past. I also get to keep up with my French, and it’s always fun to pick out the unique Quebecois obscenities (tabarnak!) and slang I never heard in school. There’s plenty I haven’t had the chance to embrace yet, including Montreal’s rap scene and many of the region’s most popular artists, like Céline Dion or Jean LeLoup. I also realize that viewing French Canada through awards and charts can’t fully represent the region or who lives in it. There’s so much to find from more marginalized voices, especially ones Quebec’s musical ecosystem doesn’t necessarily support. In any case, I hope what I have come across is worth something, whether as an incomplete window into another place or just good entertainment. For that reason, I want to share what I’ve found. Here are ten of my most treasured gems from the rich world of French Canadian music. Fleur-de-lis from Wikimedia Commons

Klô Pelgag I was first drawn to Klô Pelgag, my second foray into French Canadian music, by an intriguing album cover. It wasn’t long before I came to enjoy her talent as a musician. Pelgag paints unique soundscapes with instrumentation ranging from piano, to traditional orchestral instruments, to more synthetic sounds in her most recent work. She likewise creates rich and interesting imagery as a songwriter. Fortunately, I’ve noticed her enunciation makes her easier than most for a non-native speaker to understand. She’s even begun to see some success outside of French Canada, becoming oddly popular in online communities like Rate Your Music. Listen to: “Mélamine” off Notre-Dame-des-Sept-Douleurs

Émile Bilodeau Émile Bilodeau is most impressive as a songwriter; he sings songs driven by their lyrics, often accompanied only by his guitar. He’s refreshingly young, having released his first album as a 20-year-old college student. It comes across in the way he writes, using informal Quebecois language to talk about everyday subject matter. Listen to: “Ça va” off Rites de Passage

Pierre Lapointe Pierre Lapointe’s lengthy catalog is chock full of piano ballads and spirited orchestral lines, all somewhere within the realm of pop. And in case you like sad songs, this is a man who loves to lament. Listen to: “Sais-tu vraiment qui tu es” off La science du cœur

Cœur de Pirate With 1.5 million monthly listeners on Spotify, Cœur de Pirate is the most popular artist on this list. She’s a singer and pianist, often accompanying herself on the instrument and releasing some solo piano material as well. Writing in French and English, she’s been able to reach quite a few listeners outside of French Canada — I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her face in Times Square. Listen to: “Berceuse” off Cœur de Pirate

Philippe B Philippe B is another fantastic songwriter with a discography I would probably describe as “folk” and definitely as “calm.” If you speak French, his lyrics are nothing but poignant. If you enjoy classical music, a few of his albums contain noticeable classical influences, including some songs directly inspired by iconic pieces. Listen to: “Je t’aime, je t’aime” off La Grande Nuit Vidéo

Galaxie Galaxie performs garage rock with lyrics that are compelling yet straightforward, ideal for a non-native speaker like myself to understand. In any case, the band has a high energy and punk spirit that couldn’t possibly get lost in translation. Listen to: “Magie Magie” off Super Lynx Deluxe

P’tit Belliveau Likely the most distinctive artist I’ve encountered, P’tit Belliveau mixes folk and electronic elements, traditional and original songs, French and English. He describes his music as “country bluegrass with Casio keyboard demo tracks as the rhythm section.” P’tit Belliveau is also an outsider to Quebecois culture, even singing in a different dialect. He’s from Nova Scotia and is Acadian, descending from members of a separate colony of New France. Listen to: “Income Tax” off Greatest Hits Vol.1

Lisa LeBlanc Lisa LeBlanc is another Acadian singer who succinctly describes her music as “folk trash,” a statement I’m happy to agree with. LeBlanc hails from New Brunswick and has released material in both French and English. Although better established than P’tit Belliveau, she’s worked with him in the past, proving the existence of a French Canadian musical network beyond Quebec. Listen to: “Aujourd’hui ma vie c’est d’la marde” off Lisa LeBlanc

Les Cowboys Fringants Les Cowboys Fringants are an undeniable fixture of French Canadian culture. Combining rock, traditional folk instruments, and Quebec separatism, this band is the most “Quebecois” on the list. Listen to: “Saint-profond” off Antipodes

Philippe Brach Of all of my musical discoveries, French Canadian or otherwise, Philippe Brach is my proudest. In fact a different man than Philippe B, Brach combines a genre-bending blend of rock, folk, and orchestral sounds. He doesn’t hold back from the profanity Quebec is known for and approaches diverse topics like drugs, war, and religion. There’s clear purpose behind his musing ballads and heart-pounding tracks alike. It’s a treat to pick apart their lyrics, although their figurative language and Quebecois slang make translation a challenge. Listen to: “Heroïne” off Portraits de Famine

What Can We Learn? by Terra M. Sloane 32

Photo source: Caroline Selfors

When I set out to interview students who were currently studying abroad or had studied abroad at some point in their time here at William & Mary, I didn’t know what to expect. Maybe a common thread, a theme that could bring each one of their experiences together, illuminating the “study abroad experience” for students seeking guidance or those like me, who had their own doubts. What I encountered was far more special. Not only was every experience unique, but each story I was told, each anecdote that was shared, gave me a sense of elation and wonder that I had never heard expressed before. Each student that I had the pleasure of talking to made it clear that their experience was something they will take with them forever. Maybe that’s the common thread I was looking for. Here are their stories.

in a way that Katie had never before experienced. They weren’t occupied with homework, reading, or any kind of individual task. It was the conversation, the interaction, and the community that mattered above all. This was what made her feel the most comforted as a student in a foreign place: this emphasis on community allowed her to feel welcome, to feel at home.

Katie Badagliacco ‘22 traveled to Seville, Spain the spring semester of her sophomore year. Growing up in a household where multiple cultures were celebrated, appreciation for travel and international education was never doubted. Interests in International Relations and Hispanic Studies led Katie to appreciate the history that Seville carried, with the added benefit of a natural immersion into the Spanish language. History was the first thing that truly connected Katie and Seville. She mentioned how the city included layers and layers of history, with artifacts dating back to the Roman Empire. She was able to see the impacts of colonization and years of new cultural immersion right in front of her eyes, rather than just reading about them in a textbook. This is a trait special to Seville, and it was the first thing that Katie can remember genuinely affecting her. The community was the second. She vividly explained the comfort she found in seeing the same groups of people frequent the same coffee shops and markets each morning. Not only were they always there, they were also engaged in each other’s company. The community worked for each other

Source: Hand Luggage Only Music has a special place in the culture of Seville, with the classic Flamenco (both music and dance) as its shining star. Music and dance enhance this love of community, bringing the city closer together and inviting foreigners to join. This cultural appreciation of music allowed Katie to experience authentic Flamenco performances every once in a while. Occasionally she would encounter an American song, usually including hits from the early 2010s (Think “Party Rock Anthem”). She was later told by another student abroad that Spain is about seven years behind when it comes to American music, allowing Katie to experience just the smallest bit of nostalgia, even 4,000 miles from home. Her host family introduced her to forms of latin pop and reggaeton that she still listens to, even two years later. Every once in a while, they will show up when she’s walking to class, going to the gym, or hanging around her house. Small musical reminders of an unforgettable experience that she can relive within a second. 33

Jillian Gray ‘23 understands the feeling of culture shock. In her psychology program in Florence, Italy, she joins other students in solving the problem of eliminating culture shock before it has the chance to cultivate. Her final project while abroad will surround creating a program at the local university for students to learn the cultural norms of Florence as they are studying there. Jillain believes that culture shock, as we commonly know it, is cyclical. It is impossible to expect to know everything right away, but not impossible to learn. However, as soon as you get a hold on the norms of the area, you are once again met with something you don’t know. This cycle is never-ending, but the program aims to make students more comfortable. It allows them to build a camaraderie with the other students experiencing these new and exciting patterns.

Photo by: Jodi Nasser Some of these patterns include mundane, day-to-day activities like buying from a market every one to two days rather than once for the week, hanging out wet laundry outside when there is no working machine, expecting a meal with friends to take four hours instead of the usual one and a half, and quieting down conversations promptly at eleven, for fear of the neighbors complaining. Some things are more substantial, like bumping into a museum every block or so, fabulous marble sculptures in every piazza, and world-famous architecture right outside your window. It takes repeated experience to 34

make these wonders seem “normal.” This approach has helped Jillian discover new aspects of herself. Normal inhibitions are tossed out the window when you are dealing with all of this newness, and she has found that it has changed her for the better. She feels less afraid to communicate with teachers and local Florentines, gaining the independence that taking control of her education has allowed her. And the best part of it is, she is met with no judgment. Every individual expresses a wish for her to succeed and find her place in the community. Whether learning the language, experiencing the history, or educating others, there is a sense that she will be met halfway, given the tools she needs to create her own form of exploration. When Noa Zielinski ‘23 chose “the Paris of South America” to study International Relations, the politics that surrounded the area immediately drew her in. Seeing the results of American colonization and the implementation of a corrupt government became a larger part of her trip than expected. Living with a more conservative host family allowed her a ground-level look at the political differences between the US and Argentina, in some ways allowing for a new perspective of the way that the United States government is viewed by society, even within the community of William & Mary students. She described somewhat of a generational divide, with the older parents supporting the military government and the silencing of social uprisings, with the younger children somewhat chastising the parents for these views. The political history of Argentina is undeniable, but a large portion of the population seems to write off these instances of violence and social justice as relatively insignificant. These views don’t hinder Noa’s enjoyment, however, and she even recommended to me that staying with a host family brings you so much closer to the smaller aspects of the culture. The “day-to-day” experiences

that may be often taken for granted. She is grateful for these experiences of closeness, mainly for helping with the learning of language, but also with experiencing the more domestic instances of cultural norms. The young people in this family helped introduce Noa to the music that is most popular in their age group, opening the floodgates of musical talent that Buenos Aires can offer.

What she valued was the history that came with the music, a sense of heritage that she felt was missing from most of the music she encountered in the United States. Argentina is most commonly known for tango, but clubs and bars will play anything from reggaeton to American pop. Noa describes a large cultural center in the middle of the city where local bands are invited to play, a great place to meet people and fall in love with the local music scene. As a fan of older R&B and hip hop, Noa appreciated a slight deviation from her regular taste- local indie, some folk inspiration, and even a slight nod to rock nationale, which emerged in Argentina in the 80s. What she valued was the history that came with the music, a sense of heritage that she felt was missing from most of the music she encountered in the United States. While it wasn’t music she found herself listening to in the past, it became a part of her environment that was impossible to ignore. She mentions a lovely story to me: Relatively soon after arriving in Buenos Aires, she was invited by a friend to see a music act in the city. Her friend knew the artist vaguely, as a part of a band she liked, but the allure of the solo performance’s intimacy pledged a new kind of experience. While at the show, which took place in an old jazz club, Noa and her friend were given pieces of paper on which they could write any feelings,

thoughts, favorite lyrics, or anything that came to mind that impacted them throughout the show. Noa recalls her piece of paper being filled with a mixture of Spanish, English, and question marks. It felt nice to have a free expression of emotion, regardless of language or accuracy. At the end of the show, these papers were collected, and the pair of musicians turned these pieces into a spoken word free-style. Noa recalls the laughs and claps that came along when her submission was read aloud, feeling not an ounce of shame or embarrassment, but feelings of affirmation and safety. It turned out that almost every person in the room knew someone in the band. Atiya Haque ‘22 will tell anyone who asks that she loved her time in Barcelona. She always knew that she was going to study abroad. Something about staying in one place for four years never felt right to her, and she arrived at William & Mary her freshman year with a semester abroad already on her mind. She went through a long process of deciding which area would be right for her. She knew she would ideally like to be in a Spanish-speaking country, given her wish to immerse herself better in the language. When the research narrowed down to the individual city, she knew that Barcelona would be the perfect fit. It matched her vibe, it was more of a city, and the classes within the program aligned with her interests. Within her first couple weeks in Barcelona, it felt almost like a normal city. The travel bans brought about by COVID-19 for tourists had not yet been lifted, so she was entering a community of locals and students. Learning the Spanish was the biggest hurdle, along with a careful eye on belongings (for fear of pickpockets). Atiya says that she still finds herself thinking this way months after returning from Spain. Similarly, her music taste felt the effects of her time in Barcelona. She had 35

always been a fan of Latin pop, but she knew more mainstream songs and artists. Living in Barcelona and often traveling to Madrid and other parts of Spain opened her eyes to an array of different Latin music. Music is everywhere in Barcelona; it’s on the streets, in clubs, on the subways. Just like many cities in the United States, performers are taking any opportunity they can to get exposure, to “make it big”, and Bareclona is the perfect city to set up shop. The everyday introductions caused a large shift in Atiya’s consumption of Spanish music. Rather than the typical Latin pop, she was hearing more mundane forms of music, songs that remind her of walking through the streets of Barcelona.

Things such as Spanish music and food have been so glamorized and stripped of their reality by American companies or American media, so much that to experience them in their authenticity was incredibly refreshing. When I asked about how she thought these experiences reflected back on her view of American culture, we found ourselves in a conversation on what American culture really is. She explained that what she found the most interesting was experiencing Spain in such an authentic way that paled in comparison to the way it is presented in America. Things such as Spanish music and food have been so glamorized and stripped of their reality by American companies or American media, so much that to experience them in their authenticity was incredibly refreshing. This raw feeling of community and genuine connection that Atiya felt in Barcelona is one of the many reasons that she is going back as soon as she can.

When Sophie Saliba ‘23 went on a trip to France the summer before her senior year of high school, she knew that she would one day want to travel abroad. It was one of the deciding factors in her decision to apply to William & Mary, given the esteem of the Joint Degree Program with St. Andrews. Scotland caught her eye, especially because of its landscape and rich history, which are things that she is currently getting to explore this semester. Sophie’s interest in International Relations also influenced her decision to travel, as she asserts that experiencing a country’s culture, lifestyles, and perspectives in person can teach you a lot beyond the confines of a classroom. The friendly atmosphere of St. Andrews caught Sophie pleasantly by surprise, while engaging in small but meaningful interactions with strangers or getting to know fellow students in pubs. She recalls a recent “hall ball” wherein her hall neighbors were all invited out to a pub for a meal and traditional folk dancing and fiddle music. Getting to partake in these historical customs and traditions has allowed Sophie to connect more with the area, and has made her appreciate Scotland as a country on the whole. She is even taking a course at St. Andrews on the History of Scottish Music–a process that, paired with her experiences out in the community, has made it one of her favorite things to enjoy.

Source: University of St. Andrews She tells me that she feels grateful that the pubs also play covers of some of her

and folk songs, including the works of Elton John, the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and Fleetwood Mac. She goes to Molly Malones pub to hear a live singer cover her favorite classics. No matter what is playing, though, the locals always seem happy. No one’s taste is constrictive, they merely enjoy spending time together. She leaves me with one last thought that I think pulls together what I’ve learned over the course of these interviews: Taking the time to fully immerse yourself and ac-

knowledge the culture around you is what makes any experience abroad an amazing one. It comes with a desire to learn, to experience, to be independent, to discover something new in each place you go. Once you are able to open your mind to the experiences of those around you, and find comfort in the unknown, you can find your place within any community. When we ask ourselves “What can we learn?” we open up a whole list of possibilities.

W&M students in Cadiz, Spain Photo by: Michelle Pillepich

Cinque Terre in Liguria, Italy Photo by: Betty Kuflom 37

All Around Asia

Music and Culture Across the Diaspora by Vivian Hoang By definition, I am a second-generation Vietnamese immigrant. Internationally, however, I can’t help but feel disingenuous donning this title, as I grew up estranged from my own culture. Though my parents were traditional in certain ways —”No shoes in the house!” “No dating until marriage!”— they fully subscribed to assimilationist narratives of proximity of whiteness, fostering upward mobility. Thus, it felt it would be best to not pass on Vietnamese cultural knowledge to my brother and I. Because I grew up in a household devoid of culture in the traditional sense, I was always curious about how other people were able to forge connections to their cultures and to what extent. I especially wanted to examine culture through the lens of music as music has played an instrumental role in shaping my identity and growth as a person but less from a cultural standpoint. I wondered: how has music factored into my peers’ cultural journeys? For Andrew Chen ‘24, music plays a surprisingly minimal role in the closeness he feels with Chinese culture. “I don’t listen to Chinese music at all,” Chen said. “I personally just never really liked it that much because it’s so hard to sing it and still have the syllables be really clear.” Instead, Chen’s traditional upbringing in China allows him to carry the culture with him in everyday life without needing external practices — besides celebrating major holidays — to maintain this implicit connection. “I don’t think I do much, and I think one of the reasons I don’t feel the need to do much is because I was from [China],” Chen

said. “So it’s like, I know what my identity is. And I don’t need to almost, like, prove it sometimes, so it’s okay with me to only celebrate the really important days.” However, Chen still acknowledged the formative influence of music on Chinese culture at large, especially during the celebration of Lunar Festival, which Chen fondly named as his favorite aspect of Chinese culture. “I think music is definitely a big part of Chinese history and culture. You know, we have different instruments, and that’s something that not a lot of different Asian countries have. You know, we made the guzheng,” Chen said, referencing an ancient Chinese plucked string instrument. “And on the big festive days, like Lunar Festival, people will play them. There’s this really big show every year that everybody watches when Lunar Festival comes around, and they always have some traditional instrument performances. So music is a really important way for Chinese folks to connect with their culture.”

However, for other students, like Vanessa Ma ‘24, they have seen a more direct linkage between music and their personal connection to their culture. On the other hand, Ma spoke about how music has played a crucial role in hardening the dichotomy between Vietnamese and Vietnamese American culture, an often overlooked yet important distinction as Ma underscored the striking differences in the experiences of first versus second generation immigrants.

Courtesy Image // Vanessa Ma

“I was talking with a friend about how, when they grew up, their Vietnamese wasn’t great. But music became a really good way of how they learned Vietnamese,” Ma said. “Because when you read the lyrics, when you do karaoke, it’s like, you’re connecting back with your language.” Eddie Choi ‘22 echoed Ma’s sentiments about the power of music in fostering a closer connection with one’s native tongue. As a Korean American singer-songwriter, Choi crafts his music in both Korean and English. Choi described how he allows himself to let loose and tap into either his Highlighting her dually intimate relationship American or Korean roots when writing lyrto music, Ma discussed how she stays true to ics, creating a unique and diverse portfolio of her traditional Vietnamese heritage through music that illuminates both sides of his hericải lương, a type of Vietnamese opera that tage. her parents used to play throughout her child“Given that music is my creative hood, while nurturing her ties to Vietnamese expression outlet, I like to just be as genuine American culture by listening to Vietnamese as possible, which is why I ended up writAmerican artists like thuy and MINH. For ing whatever it is like in my most preferred Ma, the sentimentality of traditional Vietlanguage at that time being,” Choi said. “It’s namese music reminds her of her family, how I’m feeling at the moment. I just like to who most embody what culture means to be creative and make it concrete.” her, while the modernity of v-pop keeps her Choi further illuminated the influengrounded in the newer Vietnamese American tial role creating music in two languages has communities she strives to be a part of, such played in building his self-confidence as a as the Vietnamese Student Association at the bilingual speaker and Korean artist. College. “[Through music] I’m able to reclaim Ma then outlined yet another vital my bilingualism because honestly, if I were benefit of listening to music in one’s native to admit, my lack of fluency in Korean is language: gaining a greater command of said kind of like, an insecurity of mine that I language, especially for those who are not feel self-conscious about,” Choi said. “But naturally fluent in their mother tongue. whenever I’m writing in my own words, I 40

don’t have that kind of fear and like, no one’s going to judge my Korean or anything. So I think in that regard, I am able to regain confidence in my Korean.” Tracing back the inspiration for his music, Choi credits the rapid growth of the K-pop industry for normalizing bilingual music within mainstream pop culture. “A lot of encouragement comes from modern day K-pop in that a lot of these artists are not shying away from being bilingual. Just being exposed to music like that just made me think, ‘Oh, I can probably do this too,’” Choi said. “So I think I got a lot of encouragement from modern music and how there’s less of a boundary in terms of culture and language and everyone’s just, you know, sharing each other’s thoughts and feelings.”

look like me.’” However, though Park cherishes K-pop for the introduction into Korean culture that it provided her, she also recognizes that it is not fully representative of the Korean diaspora. In order to fill the gaps in her cultural understanding and connect with different aspects of Korean culture on a deeper level, she decided to learn how to sing a traditional Korean song when building her portfolio to apply into the College as a music major (once upon a time when her longtime involvement in choir led her to believe she would want to pursue a career in music; Park is now no longer a music major). “I was talking to my voice teacher at the time, and I was like, ‘I really want to do something in Korean.’ That was less about the college portfolio and more for me because I feel like when Korean culture is talked about, especially in media, you’re only talking about K-pop,” Park said. “And obviously, for me [K-pop] was how I sort of got in touch with my culture and became exposed to it and like, really wanted to learn more about it, but there’s so much more to Korean culture. So [learning a song in Korean] was a way for me to explore another type of Korean music and traditional Korean music.” Additionally, Park pointed to KoAlex Park ‘24, a fellow Korean murean artist Kim Sohyang and her cover of sical artist at the College, similarly holds “Arirang Alone” as a major influence in her K-pop in food regard due to the exposure musical journey. it provided her to Korean culture, allowing “[Arirang Alone] was like, this Korean Park to begin developing curiosity about, and folk song, and so like, you’re looking at the a connection to, Korean culture. audience of Korean people in their 50s and “I got really into K-pop about my 60s, and they’re all singing it, and she’s, like, eighth grade year in around 2015, 2016 when busting out a high C, and it’s beautiful,” Park K-pop started getting big internationally,” gushed, visibly lighting up as she described Park said. “That was kind of a way for me the monumental performance. to jumpstart into experiencing more Korean “[Sohyang] became a very large part culture, so K-pop has always held a special of why I wanted to get better at singing. Like place in my heart because it was kind of like, she was kind of the gateway for me to be the first time I would look at a lot of media, like, ‘Okay, yeah, like I can learn more about and I’m like, ‘Oh, these people that kind of these different styles of Korean music,’” Art by Boowa Zarcone

Park continued. “Because especially in my music theory classes or when we’re singing music in my choir, it’s mostly western music because that’s all that they focus on.” However, though Park has made great strides in reconnecting with her Korean heritage through music, she emphasized that this process is still ongoing and in its early stages as the circumstances of her upbringing denied her the opportunity to be raised in a culturally engaged context and as she is still learning to reconcile the halves of her biracial identity.

Due to this lack of early exposure to Korean culture, Park spoke about the agency she has to have in carving out her own connections to Korean culture instead of sustaining more of a tacitly ingrained connection to one’s culture like Chen does.

“I’m half Irish, I’m half Korean. So I sit like right in the middle of two, and I’m in America,” Park said. “I was mainly raised by my mom, and my mom’s white. And then I lived in Kansas for most of my childhood, so I was like, one of maybe two Asian people in my grade. And so it’s hard to connect to your culture when there’s almost no ways in which

Courtesy Image // Alex Park

to do that, and you’re raised by a parent that doesn’t fully get that side of that culture. Like I didn’t grow up in a house that spoke Korean, and the Korean food we would have would be, like, bulgogi, and that’s it.” Due to this lack of early exposure to Korean culture, Park spoke about the agency she has to have in carving out her own connections to Korean culture instead of sustaining more of a tacitly ingrained connection to one’s culture like Chen does. “And so, it’s just been like, [my sibling and I] having to go out of our way to experience that culture when I feel like in a lot of other cases, it’s something that you do get like that experience with, and that’s how, like, a lot of culture is started and formed for people.” Park named college as the primary avenue through which she’s been able to grow closer to her culture, especially through her involvement in the Korean American Student Association and the Asian Pacific Islander American Studies department. “In college, I joined KASA, and that’s been [how I’ve gotten] involved with more Korean people,” Park said. “And then I’m an APIA major, so that’s been another way not just to [explore] my Korean culture, but just like being Asian American in general,” Park said. “It’s been a way for me to explore how I fit into that equation because it’s a weird place to be put for me personally, being mixed race. It’s like, I don’t want to reject an Asian side of me, but also I don’t want to take up all of this space when I still have privilege with being half white. It’s a weird dichotomy that I think being in college I’ve spent a lot of effort into thinking about especially because we’re at a PWI.” Though Myra Simbulan ‘25 does not share the same struggles as Park in coming to terms with a mixed-race identity, she and Park share an intertwined journey of reconnecting to their respective cultures through college as Simbulan was also raised with little exposure to her culture.

“At home, my parents never spoke Tagalog, so I never got that [cultural upbringing], so I’m trying to find my culture in college,” Simbulan said. Though her mother is still very much involved in Filipino culture, Simbulan’s father lost touch with his culture and language due to his immigration to America at a very young age, creating a disconnect in cultural engagement within their household.

For Simbulan, the chance to reconnect with her culture is also the chance to connect more closely with her parents. Simbulan also similarly highlighted her involvement in the Asian Pacific Islander Studies program and the Filipino American Student Association as the main venues through which she is currently seeking to learn more about her culture. However, for Simbulan, the chance to reconnect with her culture is also the chance to connect more closely with her parents.

Courtesy Image // Myra Simbulan we’re reading, and she got on Amazon, ordered the book, and she has come to William and Mary and did a book club thing with me where we get breakfast and talk about the book.” After listening to such a vast array of students’ cultural experiences, Park’s and Simbulan’s accounts especially hit home with me. Knowing that others are also just beginning to forge their own paths towards a mastery of their culture provided me with the comfort I needed to continue pushing me down my own path because, sometimes, I really do feel like a lonesome sojourner in my journey to reclaim my Vietnamese identity. But now, I’m reminded that I’m a part of a beautiful, growing community of travelers on campus, each with their own unique story and journey that is valid in its own way.

Courtesy Image // Myra Simbulan “I’ve been coming home and telling my parents all the stuff I’ve been doing,” Simbulan said. “Like I’m taking Filipino Diaspora Studies, and I told my mom about this book 43

Art by Evelyn Hall

Listen to “Around the World in 80 Songs” here:

Or scan me to see what W&M students are listening to!

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sitting in the backseat of my parents’ dark blue Volvo, stopped at a streetlight, staring at the sleek, ruby red lowrider in the next lane. I don’t recognize the song, but I can’t ignore it. The music is blasting, the bass is pounding, and the car is literally shaking from the strength of it. I’d heard the expression “moved by music” before, but never had I seen it happen so literally. (I’m no stranger to loud music. I grew up on it, blaring through the speakers my dad always left on the highest possible setting.) My dad, in the driver’s seat, matches the lowrider’s challenge. He turns the volume all the way up on the Banda el Recodo song currently playing on the FM channel. He lets out a grito, and I squeeze my palms against my ears to protect them from the onslaught of sound. The light turns and we speed up, away from the other car and our game of musical chicken. It’s a few blocks before my stepmom ÀQDOO\ FRQYLQFHV KLP WR WXUQ WKH YROXPH GRZQ He grumbled and told us the best way to enjoy banda was on full blast. Mariachi and banda are two sub genres of regional Mexican music, categorized by their distinctive “big band” sound. Banda is all about brass instruments; a sousaphone wrapped around a musician, keeping time with the sliding trombones, the trumpets, clarinets, and saxophones. Mariachi is a symphony of strings; the whining of the violins and the steady bass guitar, the vocalists’ serenades riding on top of ten or more instruments. It’s a complicated dance, made to appear romantically effortless WKH PDWFKLQJ FKDUUR RXWÀWV KHOS ZLWK WKLV It’s old school, the kind of music only parents like. My dad loves mariachi and banda. He knows all the words to every song by Jenni Rivera and Joan Sebastian. For that reason, there was a time I loved it too. I remember my childhood mainly as a string of backyard barbecues with Los Tigres del Norte blasting through a jumbo bluetooth speaker in some cousin’s yard, the KRXVH ÀOOHG ZLWK WKH VFHQW RI IDPLO\ DQG IRRG My tías, a few Coronas deep, are embracing and singing “Mi Lindo Michoacan,” loudly and off-key. This part of my life is subtitled in Spanish — everything else is so loud, you can’t hear what people are saying. The music is an

essential nourishment, vital as the carne asada and onions grilling and the store bought tortillas that my prima swears are homemade. ***

It is 2014, and I have discovered Selena.

The Corpus Christi-born Queen of Tejano music died in 1995, but twenty years later, she is my favorite artist. I have two of her albums on CD and play them on the battery-powered stereo in my room. I love to dance, and Selena’s music is made for moving to. With a decent heping of 80’s synth to complement the cumbia rhythms, her songs made every woman in my house get up and dance. At eleven years old, I’d never been in love, but I would still croon the heartbreaking lyrics at the top of lungs at anyone unfortunate enough to pass by. I wanted to dress as her for Halloween, but her fashion — while iconic — was deemed inappropriate by my parents. Stinging from this rejection, I stomped to my room and pouted, blasting “Amor Prohibido.” Cumbia music originated in Colombia, in descendant communities of enslaved Afro-Colombians. It immigrated to Mexico and the rest of Latin America in the 1940s. A broad term that has come to describe lots of diverse musical VW\OHV DIWHU IXVLQJ ZLWK ORFDO LQÁXHQFHV FXPELD·V JUHDWHVW GHÀQLQJ IHDWXUH LV SHUFXVVLRQ Maracas and many kinds of drums, ones reminiscent of cumbia’s African origins, provide the steady rhythm. Dancing along is always encouraged. Eleven years old was also around the age I started to realize that I was different from my cousins. Almost every weekend, we would hang out while our parents talked about serious adult things we didn’t care about. But when they talked about school, it was different. They didn’t wear uniforms and most of their IULHQGV FRXOG VSHDN 6SDQLVK ,Q P\ ÀIWK JUDGH class, there were only two of us who spoke Spanish (the population of my hometown is eighty percent Hispanic). My parents told me that my school was special because we learned about Christianity and God, but I came to see that that was only part of the reason. My father, who emmigrated from Michoacan to

California in middle school, drudged through years of ESL classes but never quite shook the accent. He had to graduate a year late regardless of his accelerated math classes and did not want me to struggle the way he did. He sent me to a school where I would lose my accent, where I excelled at reading and writing, but never learned about my culture, not the way other kids in my community were able to. My mother, second generation Oaxaqueña and Sinaloense, had a similar experience. My grandparents sent her to school in a nicer school district, one where the kids didn’t look or talk like her. She took French all four years of high school. I know they meant to protect me, but think I lost something through it. When I got to high school, another Catholic school (this one in another county), I didn’t have a quinceañera — not because I didn’t want one, but because I didn’t think any of my school friends would go. ***

It is 2017 and I can’t escape the seemingly endless radio play reign of “Despacito.” I’m in middle school, in that awkward stage where I hate everyone, but mostly myself. It feels like every time I go outside, I hear Luis Fonsi and Justin Bieber singing about making love slowly. I don’t fully understand the lyrics, but I do know they’re inappropriate for school. It is the beginning of the age of bachata and reggaetón, both Caribbean-grown genres. Pitbull and Daddy Yankee are the kings of pop radio, and I feel embarrassed whenever they play.

I learned early on that Latinas aren’t allowed to be multidimensional. Or at least, at fourteen, I hadn’t seen many examples ofthem: girls who were like me, or like my mother, who got to be smart and strong and beautiful. Usually, they’re sexy or badass, a drug dealer’s girlfriend or a long-suffering single mother working as a nurse or maid. Of course, there is nothing wrong with being a woman like that, but when it becomes the only version of a future you’re allowed to look forward to, it’s easy to resent that part of yourself, to reject your culture for something that is easier to carry.

It felt like Latin music could be one of two WKLQJV K\SHUVH[XDO UDGLR KLWV GHÀQHG E\ WKHLU English-speaking feature artist (“Despacito,” “Hips Don’t Lie,” “Mi Gente”), or regional ballads about machismo and/or betrayal (anything by Paquita La Del Barrio or Vicente Fernadez). I liked “deep” female singer-songwriters, who understand the pain of being fourteen and feeling completely unmoored in the world (like the princess of suburban teen girls, Taylor Swift). It was easier to completely reject Latin music than to see past my own fear of the stereotypes that accompanied it. I thought the kind of music I liked didn’t exist in Spanish. For years, Shakira was “Hips Don’t Lie” and “She Wolf” — until I found out otherwise. ***

It is 2022, and I no longer have anything to prove. After two years of isolation and

the worst depressive episode of my life, I’ve stopped caring what other people think about WKH WKLQJV WKDW PDNH PH KDSS\ -R\ LV ÁHHWLQJ D ÀFNOH HPRWLRQ QRW D VWDWH RI EHLQJ 7KH only permanent part of myself is my Latinidad, my family, and my love of art. I still like songs about being sad by female singer-songwriters, but I’ve found them by Latin artists. Shakira’s 1998 Donde Estan Los Ladrones? (English: Where Are the Thieves?) is one of my stepmom’s favorite albums of all time, and she shared her love of it with me. Now, we scream the lyrics together, as we turn up the volume LQ WKH FDU DQG DQQR\ P\ GDG 6SDQLVK ÁDPHQco-pop singer Rosalía has gained traction on American streaming services and my driving playlist. Mexican folk singer Natalia Lafourcade’s Mujer Divina and Un Canto por México are highly-acclaimed, and have brought me the closest I’ve ever felt to the music of my ancestors. She’s by no means “indie” or “underJURXQGµ ³ ZLWK ÀIWHHQ *UDPP\V VKH·V DERXW as mainstream as you can get — but to me, she was something brand new: a celebrated Mexican artist whose music is allowed to be joyful. Now, I turn the volume up, and feel no shame.

Art by Natalie Lopez

Studio Ghibli Films: The Music of Joe Hisaishi by Abby Johnson

Image 50

Source // My Neighbor Totoro

I have recently entered my Studio Ghibli film phase, about ten years too late. I remember watching Ponyo when it came out in 2008, and five-year-old me enjoyed watching the animated little fish. I am eighteen now, and I’ve started to watch Studio Ghibli films again. Over winter break, I watched Howl’s Moving Castle and was in awe of the immersive realism and world building of the Studio Ghibli films. Determined to watch more films by Hayao Miyazaki, the creator of Studio Ghibli, I asked my friend to recommend some of her favorites. My letterboxd is now filled with recent diary entries of Studio Ghibli films as my friends and I watched them together, some including Spirited Away, and The Wind Rises. Besides being entranced by the thrilling animation, another aspect of Miyazaki’s films that captured my attention were the scores. The main composer for all of Miyazaki’s films is Mamoru Fujisawa, otherwise known by his stage name, Joe Hisaishi, the “John Williams of Japan” as some like to say. The music of Studio Ghibli’s films are known to have a nostalgic, unfinished feel to them, which adds an extra layer to the world building Miyazaki has established. Much of the music lets you get lost in the story of the film, so when listening to the songs again like “Merry-Go-Round of Life” from Howl’s Moving Castle, it’s easy to feel the same nostalgic emotions you felt when watching the story unfurl for the first time, making Hisaishi an excellent world-renowned composer. In fact, his compositions have earned

Image Source // Howl’s Moving Castle

him eight Japanese Academy Awards, and the Medal of Honor with Purple Ribbon from Japan, the highest medal of honor for people who exert outstanding accomplishments in art, academics, or sports.

Hisaishi’s impressionist scores continuingly differ from the Western music that we are used to hearing, which is why so many Westerners are in awe of Hisaishi’s music. One great thing about Hisaishi’s scores is how they let you wander, and this is a result of his Impressionist style of music. Very similar to Impressionist composer Debussy, Impressionists focus on conveying moods or atmospheres through music, much like Impressionist artists in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries with their art. Impressionist music often gives an unfinished, floating feeling, very different from composers at the

Image Source // Spirited Away same time like Beethoven and Mozart who valued harmonies and resolutions. Fastforwarding to the twenty-first century, Hisaishi’s impressionist scores continuingly differ from the Western music that we are used to hearing, which is why so many Westerners are in awe of Hisaishi’s music. Here is where the history of Japanese music comes into play. Now I am no music theorist, so I am going to try to explain this as well as I can without messing up, but one of the other 51

main reasons why Hisaishi’s music sounds different is because of the differences in pentatonic scales between Japanese music and Western music. A pentatonic scale is a scale with only five notes per octave, and Japan’s pentatonic scales are different from what we are used to. The main difference Musicologists have found when examining Japanese music is that Japan doesn’t use the classic Western 7-note scale like we use today to form an octave, they use four tetrachords. Tetrachords are groups of three notes, where they started on the same note and ended on the same note, however, the middle note would change. And to form an octave, they would put two tetrachords together. By to-

Image Source // Ponyo

52Image

Source // My Neighbor Totoro

day’s Western standards of music, this is not a traditional pentatonic scale, which is why Hisaishi’s music sounds so different to our Western ears. Ultimately, Hisaishi’s music is unworldly and evokes so much euphoria it is impossible not to like the stories he is telling through his music. Doing this research has made me appreciate Hisaishi’s style a lot more, and I now fully understand what makes him stand out from the rest of the composers I listen to. I hope you can appreciate his music now too, and I fully recommend you watch any Studio Ghibli film as Miyazaki and Hisaishi transport you to these magical realms full of wonderful stories.

Exploring Ethnomusicology

By Mary Beth Bauermann

From the moment I stepped onto campus as a freshman almost two years ago, I knew that I wanted to study music in some capacity, but I wasn’t exactly sure how. At that point, I’d been playing guitar for eleven years and I had just come off of seven years of singing in choirs, but never in my time of contorting my hands into jazz guitar chord shapes or deciphering alto lines in choral compositions did I experience the “ah yes, this is for me” feeling that would have called me to pursue a degree in music performance. However, I recognized that music has carved out a permanent home for itself in my heart as well as my head. It created an intellectual itch that can only be scratched by listening to music and reading about the role it plays in people’s lives. It wasn’t until this past fall semester, when I was getting ready to declare my major in American Studies, that my cousin, a PhD pre-candidate in musicology and ethnomusicology, told me about a method of studying music that was completely unknown to me: Ethnomusicology, the study of how music functions in social and cultural contexts. And there it was- I could finally put a name to my intellectual, musical interests.

Chances are, you’ve heard of musicology, which is the scholarly study of music. In contrast, ethnomusicology shifts the focus from the music itself to how music is practiced and studied around the world. A subdiscipline of the general field of music in academia, ethnomusicologists study global, interdisciplinary, and social practices and perspectives surrounding music. Chances are, you’ve heard of musicology, which is the scholarly study of music. In contrast, 54

ethnomusicology shifts the focus from the music itself to how music is practiced and studied around the world. Recent examples of topics in ethnomusicological research include music in the context of queer nightlife culture and the utilization of Japanese instruments in soundtracks. Both musicology and ethnomusicology require advanced degrees, but we are fortunate to have ethnomusicologists on staff here at William & Mary who offer introductory ethnomusicology courses to the student body. Professor Katz, Professor Rasmussen, and Professor Iyanaga are ethnomusicologists and teach courses including “Worlds of Music,” “American Soundscapes,” and “Music & Cultures of Brazil.” They also direct ensembles, such as the Music of India Ensemble, the Middle Eastern Music Ensemble, and the Brazilian Music Ensemble, which offer students opportunities to immerse themselves in musical practices that extend beyond Western culture. Chances are, if you’re here reading Vinyl Tap, William & Mary’s music and culture magazine, you’re at least the slightest bit interested in the connections between music and culture. Personally, I’m fascinated by American popular music and dance in American history, but American music has been (and continues to be) shaped by non-Western music traditions and practices. For example, the blues, one of the foundational genres of American music, would not exist without West African music traditions. Currently, I’m taking Professor Katz’s “Worlds of Music” course. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed stepping out of Ewell Hall every day having learned more about the many functions of music outside of the western music bubble. If you can’t fit an introductory ethnomusicology class into your schedule- not to worry. There are a plethora of ensemble concerts, including

the Music of India ensemble and the Middle Eastern Music ensemble, that you can attend here on campus. There are other sources of course, ranging from academic journals and books to documentaries and other types of media. Another great way to learn about microcultures and their relationships with music is through podcasts, and if you happen to be interested in learning about classical music history of the Nordic countries, boy do I have the podcast for you.

podcast serves as “a platform for the promotion and education of Nordic music culture and history,” providing stories to help shape listeners’ experiences of Nordic music. Regardless of your specific interests, you can find many podcasts dedicated to ethnomusicology subtopics in a variety of contexts, such as IU’s “SoundLore” podcast, the World Music Institute’s “WMI at Home” podcast, and even Questlove’s “Questlove Supreme.”

“The American Skald’s Nordic Sound Podcast” explores ethnomusicological topics such as “unsung women of early Norwegian romanticism,” Norwegian folklore, and general Norwegian culture.

Ethnomusicology is all around you and can be investigated through a wide array of disciplines. The Society of Ethnomusicology emphasizes the field’s interdisciplinary nature in its statement that ethnomusicologists may “have training in music, cultural anthropology, folklore, performance studies, dance, area studies, cultural studies, gender studies, race or ethnic studies, or other fields in the humanities and social sciences.” In their professional lives, ethnomusicologists might “document and promote music traditions or participate in projects that involve cultural policy, education, conflict resolution, health, environmental sustainability, arts programming, or advocacy on behalf of musicians.” Careers in ethnomusicology are equally diverse, as ethnomusicologists may work as archivists, museum curators, primary and secondary school educators, or any role that “promote[s] the appreciation and understanding” of music around the world (SEM). If what I’ve described here tickles your fancy, check out “Worlds of Music” in the music department, “Age of Soul” in the American Studies department (both are COLL 200 credits, by the way) the next time you’re scrolling through the open course list for fun (I know I can’t be the only one), listen to a podcast, attend an ensemble recital, and seek out new ways to analyze music through cultural, social, and global lenses. There is truly so much out there to experience once we step outside of our sonic comfort zones.

Source: Jameson Foster

My musicology PhD pre-candidate cousin, Jameson Foster, is better known in the musicology podcasting community by the moniker, “The American Skald,” which is the title of his Nordic music history podcast and blog. While it is a musicology podcast, “The American Skald’s Nordic Sound Podcast” explores ethnomusicological topics such as “unsung women of early Norwegian romanticism,” Norwegian folklore, and general Norwegian culture, which provide interesting lenses through which Nordic music can be studied. Jameson advertises that, “from longship to moshpit,” his

W&M Music Profile: Appalachian Music Ensemble An interview with Appalachian Music Ensemble’s director, Tripp Johnson, by Jack Stewart

The Appalachian Music Ensemble is a music group on campus that focuses on the rich musical history of the Appalachian region of the United States, focusing on the community built by “the most social music in the world, students from a variety of backgrounds come together to learn dance tunes and group vocal songs. Vinyl Tap staff writer Jack Stewart sat down with the AME director Tripp Johnson to discuss the process of learning Appalachian music and history.

were. I think there were nine in the original when my first year here and pre-COVID we had expanded that to I think we’re right around 50 and which was wonderful. We would all play together for a bit and then we would also break it up into small groups where, you know, I’m sure David has told you members kind of have their own band, if you will, for the semester. Yeah, and we’re able to do that now. We’re, I think, we’re right around 30 folks in the ensemble right now.

Jack Stewart: I want to talk about the history of the group on campus. Were you the one who started AME?

Jack Stewart: You’re the one who chooses these small groups, right?

Tripp Johnson: I know that there are at least a few, if not several directors before me. It has certainly, as far as I can tell, grown. When I first came on board, there

You know, if a particular group is more into, let’s say, old time music versus bluegrass, or maybe they’re into Irish, whatever, I’ll try to group them together as much as possible. Or somebody comes to me and says, “Hey, my friend, who’s in the class? Can I play in a group with him or her?” You can try to make that happen. Jack Stewart: As you mentioned, the group has grown over the time that you’ve been in a director role. Are there any other

Tripp Johnson: Well, yeah, with the students’ input. And I’m basically helping them group themselves into, you know… you want members that are like minded and by the same experience level – that kind of thing.

ways that the group has changed since you’ve been here? Tripp Johnson: That’s a good question. The small group aspect of it: I won’t say it’s new with me, but I don’t know that it was featured as much in the past. I don’t know. I’m kind of… I’m wondering about that myself. So I suppose there’s some change there, perhaps. I have put a real emphasis on just standard repertoire of the Appalachian music heritage, if you will. So in other words, 57

the tunes that I teach in the class that are sort of understood. If you play this music, you already know these tunes. It’s just common language, you know, like jazz standards, if you will. And then I also try to mix in some kind of off the beaten path tunes that not everybody knows, and that’s where small groups kind of come into play. I’ll sort of, not assign tunes, but suggest tunes to a group, according to their interests or their level or their instrumentation, that sort of thing. Jack Stewart: So you mentioned Janice and David told me that you’re trained as a jazz guitarist. Tripp Johnson: To a degree. Back in the dark ages, when I went to school as a guitar player, you pretty much had two choices. You’re either going to study classical or jazz. And so I went that route for a while kind of in the back of my head knowing that I would eventually get back to doing this more, more old time and bluegrass and that sort of thing. Jack Stewart: OK, so you always gravitated towards Bluegrass. Tripp Johnson: Yeah, it’s kind of like, so I sort of went on a journey man’s adventure where I basically played in lots of different styles of bands for a great deal of time. I kind 58

of consider that sort of my post-grad work. And so as I, you know, went on the stylistic journey I kind of had in the back of my head that this was the music that any of my family members would tell me, that’s the music you’re supposed to be playing, you know? And you know, I was… Well, you know, let’s face it, I was much cooler than that. Jack Stewart: So with these songs that you choose, they’re a part of this history of Appalachian music. Like the common language that you were talking about. Is there an aspect of the group that focuses on learning the history of this, of this music and what it means? Tripp Johnson: We try to discuss that as much as possible, but with the understanding that we meet 12 times and we are rehearsing by and large new material for concerts. So we don’t have a whole lot of time to get so deep into that. And having said that, I do try to discuss regional differences and where a tune may come from. And a lot of that goes on in private lessons. The vast majority of the AME students are also taking lessons. So we’re kind of, you know, working towards the goal of being able to play these tunes in your small group and then also in the large group itself and then kind of take a deeper dive into it there.

Jack Stewart: Do you find that the students that are interested in joining AME come from that regional background? Not necessarily always from Appalachia, but maybe this area? Tripp Johnson: Yes and no. There are certainly some players that come through who already have some experience to whatever degree playing the music. Some are very experienced. Some are, you know, they’ve done some playing and kind of have an idea of what Appalachian music is. And frankly, there are some folks who come in who have never played the music before. That’s where the large group comes into play. As I mentioned, we rehearse as a large group and

And so they have the challenge of learning things by ear. For instance, a guitar player may have done that plenty of times in their rock band or whatever. So the idea of learning something where there’s no structure, if you will, they’re just learning it by ear is not that daunting to them. And those are just two crude examples, I’m just saying, but there are folks coming there from all sorts of different backgrounds, different levels of experience. Jack Stewart: From what you were talking about, the teaching style probably requires some thought on how to marry those different

also as these small groups. The large group rehearsal is kind of a one room schoolhouse. You’ve got folks of varying levels and varying experience, and everyone’s kind of helping each other along and working on the music and then they go to their small groups and do their thing. And it also kind of depends on the instrument we’re talking about. Guitar players, you know, kind of grow up in their bedrooms and in their garages with other friends and jamming, you know. They’re kind of used to that sort of looser approach to learning music as opposed to a violinist. And their background may be youth orchestra where everything’s been, you know, on paper and there’s been a lot of training involved.

backgrounds when you have different levels and different approaches to music. Tripp Johnson: One of the things that’s wonderful about this style of music is- I say this to folks all the time- it’s simple, but it’s not easy. All right, so the fact that it’s simple means that someone who’s just starting out can come and play a tune relatively quickly. You know, comparatively speaking versus, say, for instance, classical or jazz for years of study before you can even get into the game here, you know, you learn a few chords and some some strumming or bowing or whatever your instrument may be, and you 59

can start playing tunes and somebody who’s a virtuoso, top of the game and playing all their lives, can sit down with the same person. And if they approach it with the proper mindset, they can have fun playing a tune together. So that’s a really cool thing. Again, depending on your instrument, there’s so many different aspects to the music that you can be focusing on if you’re just starting out, maybe you’re trying to learn how to play chords where you can keep up with the rest of the group. Maybe you’ve been playing for some time and now you’re trying to just do everything by ear. As you’re playing with the group, you’re working on learning this tune by ear on the fly. So it’s kind of a structured way of learning how to learn on your own.

different in that regard. But learning how to work with somebody, how to be in the same room and connect with somebody and work towards a group goal, establish and work toward those goals, I think that’s a beautiful thing. Music’s such a beautiful way to do it. It’s not competitive. Nobody’s getting hurt, you know? It’s a wonderful thing. So I like to think that, you know, they’re not only giving themselves the gift of music, which I truly think if you invest the time and the energy into learning how to play an instrument, it truly is a gift to yourself. But not only are they receiving the gift, they’re also learning how to make those connections. And you know, those group efforts are important in life, as we all know.

Jack Stewart: No small part of this is that the students play a big role. It’s almost student-led in some ways.

Jack Stewart: And then it seems especially important with Appalachian music, which is so community based.

Tripp Johnson: Absolutely, and that was my intention with the small groups. So I wanted it to be something that they own. You know, it’s their thing and I will help them as much as possible or as is necessary, or I’ll stay completely out of the way. And each group is

Tripp Johnson: Absolutely. It is the most social music in the world. And so you can go anywhere in the world. And if you pull out a banjo and start playing Old Joe Clark, you’re going to have some friends pretty soon.

Photos by Catherine Henry

Drinking Songs & Human Connection

little dingy pub, which had one picture, one address, and one three-star rating on Yelp. Half the barstools were occupied by older men, wearing muck boots and thick sweaters, WKHLU IDFHV UXGG\ IURP WKHLU ÀUVW DQG VHFRQG pints. And their voices were raised, slurredly half-singing, half-shouting some drinking songs.

By Erin Collier

A few years back, my extended family and I took my Grandmo (our nickname for her) to the small farm in Ireland where she’d been born, before the family joined in on the great Irish tradition of migrating to the Bronx. ,W ZDV LQ &RXQW\ &DYDQ :H JRW D ÁDW WLUH DQG nearly ran over a dog while navigating the narrow roads to get there; and there was at the end of a long and thin country lane. The farm next door was still alive and working, and an old man named Brennan came out at the unusual commotion. We asked him about the farm—but Brennan’s midcountry brogue was so thick that not even Grandmo could understand it. Eventually we discerned–and came to see–that the farm had been wholly abandoned since the day the family had left.

The barmaid looked embarrassed, and she came up to the table of my cousins and I and offered to tell them to stop. But they were loud, bawdy, and loud, and impossible to ignore.

Sure enough, the tiny stone building was in After their voices drowned out our conversaruins, reclaimed by the wild. As we lifted the tion for the third time, my cousin jokingly said, brambles from the path for Grandmo to pass “What if we sang with them?” through, she looked around in disbelieving nostalgia. To me, it was crazy how a place But then another said, “Nah, I’d do it.” could decay so much in the span of a single lifetime. We leaned in together conspiratorially. But that decay, Brennan’s words that we -We’ll wait until they stop. couldn’t understand-they were symbolic of the disconnect that time had put between my -So one of us just… stands up and starts singing? grandma and her country of birth–between our family and the citizenship we’d inherit -Erin, you do choir. You start it. ed. -Uh. Ooh. Okay. What song, though? I only know After exploring for a while, we were hungry “The Parting Glass,” and that’s too depressing. as hell. We went to the little village closest to the farm; and there, we ended up in a -It has to be something that everyone knows. 62

The last verse of what I know now to be “The Rocky Road to Dublin” tumbled to a halt, leaving a breath of quiet. This had the potential to be very, very embarrassing, but I was gripped by the kind of ballsiness that a person only gets in life changing moments, and I stood up and opened my mouth and sang, “Is this the real life–” In the very small pub, all eyes went to me. That ballsiness immediately peace’d out, and my voice broke off into an awkward cough. But just as I was preparing to sprint out into the night and never return, my cousins backed me up, carried on the song. And then, unbelievably, those drunk farmers laughed and joined in as well.

key in a Jar”—and the popular classic songs that crossed boundaries. On “Sweet Caroline”, of all things, an older gentleman hopped from the bar and held out a hand to my grandmother, who had the most brilliant smile stretched on her taut cheeks. She accepted it, and he pulled her into a simple, graceless partner dance. Grandmo is a pragmatic woman who makes sure to walk three miles a day to lengthen her lifespan. Beyond that, I’ve never known her all too well. I’ve never seen her truly smile before; certainly never seen her dance. Oh, but while the strange man spun her around, she laughed like a young girl. After, she declared she’d like to sing. All of us went silent, and in a quiet, thin, carefully clear voice, Grandmo recited “Danny Boy.” I’ve seen concerts and sang songs that left me spellbound and speechless, but I maintain that Grandmo’s song was the most beautiful I’ve heard. When I think back on that night, I look on with a sort of disbelief that it ever happened. Me, I’m usually a fairly unremarkable person. How’d I end up in a deleted scene from The Secret Life of Walter Mitty?

This one goes out to Queen, actually. Props for making a song that everyone knows. That’s how it began. We shouted out the last notes of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and we all raised our drinks and cheered for ourselves. In the next settled seconds, I thought it’d be a one-and-done deal. But two of the men muttered to themselves, and bust out into Molly Molone: In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty–

The answer: it’s the connective power of music. We knew none of their names, and when we left the pub and the town that night, we saw none of them ever again. We were separated by generations and by culture, and–in, at least, the case of the old man at Grandmo’s farm–linguistically mutually unintelligible. Singing together hurdled those cultural borders. For as long as we were in the same place, singing the same lyrics to the same song together, there was no meaningful difference between any of us. If the well of emotion I feel when I think of it is any indication, that kind of human connection leaves a profound impact that time can’t touch.

We sang together, ten drunks and twelve Colliers from New Jersey, for what felt like ten So for the curious traveler: learn a few good hours but what was realistically two. We alter- songs! You never know when you’ll stumble nated between the Irish drinking songs that we across your own drunken farmers. knew—our “Seven Drunken Nights,” our “WhisArt by Natalie Lopez

On June 24th, WCWM is moving out of our original station to another home, in the Sadler Center. The station has been a staple in many of our lives and we will miss it very dearly. Here are some Vinyl Tap staff members, past and present, telling what the WCWM station meant to them. What can I say about the radio station? Just even the thought of the space brings back countless memories that were central to my experience at William & Mary. The sounds of jovial laughter in the background of listening sessions. The wonder in the eyes of freshmen as they were greeted by the vinyl-filled walls. The great friendships that were built on the sometimes long path to becoming a WCWM DJ. Even the pretentious air of snobbery exuded by the eldest club members was somewhat endearing. These were just a few of the things that made this place and organization so special to me. It’s impossible for me to think about my time as a student at the college without thinking about the station. That space, and WCWM, will always have a piece of my heart and I’m proud to have been a small piece of it’s 62 year history. - Corey Bridges, Class of 2021

The first time I ever walked into the WCWM radio station, a place on campus that would eventually feel more like home to me than just about anywhere else, was during Radio Prom of my sophomore year. I had never seen so much physical music in one room in my life– the walls were stacked with floor to ceiling bookshelves, every one stuffed with vinyls. The whole room was covered in cheap confetti and streamers, but there was an authenticity to the space and the people that felt impossible to replicate. I was an outsider, technically, but that didn’t stop us all from singing Mitski together at the top of our lungs. That was in December of 2019. A few months later, COVID hit, and I didn’t set foot in the station again until nearly a year later. It was a different experience when I returned, separated by several tough months that included bouts of depression and loneliness. I felt like a different person coming back to college a year later. The station hadn’t changed though. It was still full to the brim with records and CDs, still shuffling the A-list, and still populated by people who love the same music I do, and who make it feel whole to me. - Hannah Garfinkel Cover Art by Laura Reitze

As my senior year comes to a close, I’ve been thinking a lot about The Secret Dream. The Secret Dream is a poem that my theater teacher in high school used to recite to us before shows. The poem essentially says that there are a million different theaters around the world putting on variations of the same play, but our production is special because of the people involved and how we worked together to make the show happen. Our space is special because we’re in it. That’s how I feel about WCWM and our station. There are a million different radio stations throughout the world doing the same thing, but none as special as our station. I love our space, but I love our people even more. And I love what we do together. When I think of the station, I’ll think of laughing too hard at meetings, radio proms, game nights, eating waffles, swapping clothes, and countless other memories. And the great thing about the station is that its influence extends outside of campus center, or wherever the station is. Because to me the station is also post-meeting dinners at Marketplace, Intramural Handball, listening to music on the Sunken Gardens, $1 Corona Nights at Paul’s, bowling terribly at AMF lanes, Vinyl Tap photoshoots in Swem, and most importantly, it’s everyone I met along the way. - Isabel Haber

There has always been music constantly looping in my head. I have always formed connections through association with events and people, to the constant game of shaping car queues to my passengers. I want to share the thrill- the jump into a chorus, a piano solo, a vocal slide- with those that I care about. This same energy radiates from the radio station in spades. From the sticker door, all the way back to the Beatles lamp in the broadcasting room, you can tell that it is a space full of passion. It’s an addictive energy, it just makes you want to live down there and listen to music with your friends until the sun comes up. - Evelyn Hall

A haiku or two for our dear station: Our music filled your Hallowed halls which housed us and Many memories

It’s hard to say goodBye but just know we enjoyed Our time together

- Boowa Zarcone

Photos by Isabel Haber, Evelyn Hall, and Catherine Henry

Album Reviews

Joywave – Cleanse

Hollywood/Cultco / 11 February 2022

Source: Rough Trade

no different. They sneak glittering keys and strings into the background of “Buy American”. An old telephone rings to signal the beginning of “Every Window Is A Mirror”. Other examples are harder to spot, revealed only after several listens. There’s always another new sound to discover on a Joywave track, and that makes up for Cleanse’s lack of guitar riffs. However, for those missing the old sound, tracks “The Inversion” and “Cyn City 2000” will probably become favorites.

Joywave’s fourth studio album Cleanse begins with cautiously upbeat, cosmic synths on the opening track “Pray For The Reboot”. Aptly named, it features frontman Daniel Armbruster wishing to “reboot” the world after two years of pandemic. Joywave, like everyone else, has good reason to wish the world could be rebooted. They unknowingly released their third album Possession on the worst possible day: March 13, 2020. In an interview with Atwood Magazine, Armbruster said: “It felt like I was personally victimized by the virus for 36 hours until I realized people were dying. My silly little record didn’t matter.” Possession’s sales suffered due to its timing, so Cleanse became even more important. This is Joywave’s comeback. The most notable shift on their newest entry is the step away from their own brand of indie rock toward a more pop and electronicfocused sound. Joywave are masters of pop hooks. You may remember some of their past hits like “Destruction,” “It’s A Trip!” and of course their feature on “Dangerous” by Big Data. Cleanse is just as easy to jam out to, though it remains to be seen if these songs will have the same replay value as past hits. Joywave is also known for including an abundance of ear candy, and Cleanse is

This album has a notable thematic shift as well. Past Joywave albums dealt with the negative effects of technology on our lives, with political division, and with the fears of aging and failure. They often addressed these topics with biting satire. This album, though, was created in the midst of a health crisis not seen in 100 years. That’s sure to offer a new perspective. On “Cyn City 2000,” Armbruster sums up the album by singing, “I don’t wanna be cynical”. The positive thinking may become grating for some on the track “We Are All We Need,” but the song is as self-reflective as it is earnest, so we have to forgive them for a little corniness. Armbruster sings, “I built a shell to insulate me from the winter and the weight of the Earth/But I found it filtered out compassion, always laughing takes a toll on your worth.” Despite the overarching optimism, there are still a few exceptions. For something depressing and mournful, try “Goodbye Tommy,” and for something with Joywave’s typical satirical streak, listen to “Buy American.” Cleanse’s optimism and electronic sound aren’t my typical fare, so the fact that I still find it irresistibly catchy and infectiously positive is notable. If you’re looking for something fun with thoughtful lyrics and danceable beats, give it a listen. And maybe when you’re done with that, you should give the forgotten middle child Possession a chance too. — Lina Hunt 69

alt-J – The Dream

Infectious / 11 February 2022

Source: Amazon

the band members had in which he drinks an entire swimming pool while wading in it, according to their “Storyline” on Spotify. Without knowing the context, lines like “I’ll dive in / Swimming and drinking” and “In the middle of the night I get a craving and I wake up for you” might have different, albeit still valid, meanings that focus on the symbolic rather than literal meaning of the words. Similar to dreams, we can choose if we want to read into these lyrics or take them at face value.

Ten years after the release of their first album, An Awesome Wave, and two studio albums later, English rock band alt-J released The Dream this past February. The band is known for hits such as 2014’s “Left Hand Free” and 2012’s “Breezeblocks.” The Dream has a more traditional indie album feel, if that could ever be said about alt-J. The band is known for their simple beats and repetitive bass accompanied by mumbled, nonsensical lyrics. While elements of that still exist on the album, such as the song “Chicago” and the vocal interlude “Delta,” it certainly has a distinct feel that contrasts from their others. Many of the songs’ mixings include more layers than the three I mentioned above; alt-J also consistently incorporates a piano, drum kit, choir vocals, and audio samples. Although alt-J’s lyrics have historically been incoherent, songs off of The Dream revolve around one theme: you guessed it, dreams. This acts as a deciphering code when one listens to the lyrics and, honestly, works for the band’s benefit, as dreams are known for being inane. The opening song, “Bane,” is quite literally about a dream that one of 70

Even musically, The Dream retains an ethereal effect throughout. Cadenced synth in songs such as “The Actor” evoke 80’s nostalgia, which, for some of the band’s members and fans, would have been during their very early childhood. “Get Better” feels like a lullaby, stripped down to just an acoustic guitar and lead singer Joe Newman’s soft vocals for all but the last minute, when a repeated piano melody joins in. The prevalence of string instruments, from violins to harpsichord, in “Philadelphia” gives it an ethereal, floating quality that juxtaposes with the macabre story. The song even ends with the repetition of the phrase “‘Awake’ and ‘not awake,’” reminding listeners of the liminal space that this album seeks to occupy.

While The Dream does feature changes from altJ’s typical formula, it’s these variations that give it personality and excite me for what the band has next in store. Alt-J’s self-proclaimed “dreamiest song on the album” (Spotify) is “Walk a Mile,” the song directly following “Philadelphia.” It opens with a barbershop quartet but quickly flows into a soulful melody. There’s a haunting

quality to it, as the lyrics of the first half of the song are just “At last, my baby’s walked a mile in my shoes” repeated for two minutes with slight variation to the melody. Much of the rest of the lyrics are also repeated, lulling one into a hypnotic state.

— Boowa Zarcone

Source: Independent

I felt like I was floating in space — weightless but overwhelmed by the infinite blackness. Alt-J succeeded in replicating the semi-conscious and absurd qualities of dreams.

While The Dream does feature changes from alt-J’s typical formula, it’s these variations that give it personality and excite me for what the band has next in store. The interspersing of repetitious musical phrases got me lost in the sound, only to be occasionally interrupted by a gritty guitar riff or powerful choir. I felt like I was floating in space— weightless but overwhelmed by the infinite blackness. Alt-J succeeded in replicating the semi-conscious and absurd qualities of dreams. Whether you need something to listen to as you collapse into bed or as you’re pondering your place in the universe, The Dream is for you.

FKA Twigs – CAPRISONGS

Atlantic Records / 14 January 2022

FKA Twigs’ latest mixtape, CAPRISONGS, is not a reference or misspelling of the childrens’ juice. Instead, it is the latest project of the visionary and music’s Queen of England (in my humble opinion), FKA Twigs. Fearless, hot, and otherworldly, Twigs’ latest project should be newcomers’ introduction to the power of Twigs.

Charli XCX’s recent projects (another Queen of England). Twigs’ classification of CAPRISONGS as a mixtape is no mistake. This is an intentional distinction from her other two albums due to the rougher and less polished production. Yet, any producer listening to this mixtape will

FKA Twigs is a professional dancer with the core strength of a running back, and she has impeccable fashion taste (look up her 2015 Met Gala Dress). Twigs has to be one of the most multifaceted artists producing music today, and because of that, it is shocking that CAPRISONGS exceeds expectations! CAPRISONGS is a catchy mixtape with Twigs’ typical piercing vocal range and R&B elements sprinkled throughout. But, what differs is the way she implements new and various styles throughout, including Afrobeats, hyper pop, and glitch pop. She even squeak-raps in the song “lightbeamers,” yet somehow can even make that sound tasteful. Many of the production and vocal elements of this mixtape are reminiscent of 72

Source: Atlantic Records

The title, CAPRISONGS, is a reference to Twigs’ astrological sign, Capricorn. This project was fittingly released during Capricorn season, just three days before Twigs’ birthday. The mixtape is candid in Twigs’ relational frustrations, and astrological references are how Twigs connects both her emotions and the decisions she has made throughout the project.

bang their heads if this is what Twigs considers “unpolished.” Though the production of both LP1 and MAGDALENE is more grandiose, it is a specific choice to not make CAPRISONGS have the same feel as her previous releases. My biggest complaint about CAPRISONGS is the incorporation of spoken interludes from some of Twigs’ collaborators and friends. These interludes are probably a big reason why this collection of songs is categorized as a “mixtape” rather than an album. The stories told from these speaking bits are exactly what the songs and concept of the mixtape as a whole are about, so they should have just been cut from the project. It would be scandalous to not discuss Twigs’ most prominent feature and track on this mixtape, “tears in the club” featuring

the lesser-known artist, The Weeknd. Just kidding. Having a name as big as The Weeknd on her mixtape is such a flex, especially considering this is Twigs’ first project

way. The reason I say intimidating is because of not only the level of song quality but also everything else about Twigs’ aura. FKA Twigs is a professional dancer with the core strength of a running back, and she has impeccable fashion taste (look up her 2015 Met Gala dress). Twigs has to be one of the most multifaceted artists producing music today, and because of that, it is shocking that CAPRISONGS exceeds expectations!

Source: George Pimentel / Getty Images

Overall, CAPRISONGS is a fiery, yet approachable mixtape that never takes itself too seriously, yet dazzles anyone willing to listen.

featuring vocal collaborators. I have been hot and cold with this track, and though I think it is the ideal pop track and should be on “The Billboard Hot 100,” it is probably my least favorite song from this project. I know that opinion warrants criticism from the Abel stans and maybe I deserve it, but I just cannot connect with this track as I did with the other 16 songs (besides “jealousy” which is also much poppier than my taste). Onto a few of the best tracks on the album: the first three songs, “ride the dragon,” “honda,” and “meta angel” hit in an almost intimidating

Twigs’ frustration with men in her life is perfectly encapsulated in “oh my love” as the lyrics “Everybody knows that I want your love. Why you playing, baby boy, what’s up?” Confused women need to start a petition to make this song the anthem for repressed women who are stuck with men who cannot COMMUNICATE! “minds of men,” in the latter half of the album, feels like a B-side from Twig’s sophomore album, MAGDALENE, which is a delightful surprise for those of us who worship that album (It was my favorite release of 2019). Overall, CAPRISONGS is a fiery, yet approachable mixtape that never takes itself too seriously, yet dazzles anyone willing to listen. Give this project a chance because, best case, you will have a new favorite artist with a drool-worthy catalog and, worst case, FKA Twigs whispering, “Sagi Moon, Pisces Ven, Capri Sun” will be stuck in your head forever. — Livia Martinez

Palace – Shoals

Source: Bandcamp

The album begins with their first track “Never Said it Was Easy,” a melancholy track that begins us on our journey through Shoals. We enter into the world of Leo’s mind, surrounded by negative emotions and dark thoughts from his youth. This track deals with mental illness and the fact that navigating through life and love was never supposed to be easy. The second track, “Shame on You” is one of my favorites on the album. This song reveals Leo’s heartbreak and the selfrealization of his own emotional avoidance. He sings about the fear of regret and how he pushes away feelings of guilt and pain just to save himself from self-reflection. In the chorus, Leo sings, “I believe the shame’s on you; I can see that I’m the same as you.” Once again I find myself completely enamored with another modern alternative rock group from the UK, Palace. Since their first debut EP, Lost in the Night was released in 2014, this band has grown and built onto their own unique sound. On January 21st, 2022, Palace released their third album, Shoals. This ethereal album brings us into a new era of Palace’s music. One that makes me feel as though I am sitting on a rocky coast, surrounded by greenery and new life, going through the stages of grief, heartbreak, and new hope. With his incredibly raw and vulnerable lyrics, lead singer, Leo Wyndham, draws the listener in with his soulful voice full of emotion that is trying to break out. The emotion is infectious and there is an overwhelming beauty in each song and the story it tells. Their distinctive guitar riffs seem to have a life of their own, flowing through each song with ease, telling their own story. This album tells a story of heartbreak, dark thoughts, and difficult life experiences. But the story eventually transforms into one of acceptance and discovering peace within oneself, finding the courage to leave the past in the past and begin again.

Avenue A/Fiction / 21 January 2022

This album is a journey through the sea. It looks beautiful, peaceful, and calm on the outside, but it can also be dangerous and leave you scarred. The album continues with its heartbroken tone until the fifth track, “Give Me The Rain.” This song is the first evidence of hope that surfaces throughout this whirlwind of negative emotions. The song is almost refreshing, just like a cold spring rain. Leo sings in the chorus, “Sounds insane but I need the pain ’cause it helps me breathe living for the rain”. It reminds us that throughout the trials and tribulations of life, there are patches of positive emotions, happy moments, and things to live for. The last track “Where Sky Becomes Sea” is the most beautiful song on the album. Leo has finally found real peace and love in his relationship, but the worries still follow. This song is about the painful thought of leaving your partner at death. Leo sings, “When it’s all said and

Source: Far Out Magazine

done and we’re rivers that run, will we be together beyond?” Now that Leo has found his one, he does not want to part from them. He hopes that they continue their lives together, using beautiful metaphors and imagery of nature. This album is a journey through the sea. It looks beautiful, peaceful, and calm on the outside, but it can also be dangerous and leave you scarred. But there is still that inner peace and beauty within once the storm passes. Each song pulls me in with a catchy and addictive melody and I am effortlessly pulled through each song with Leo’s soulful and textured harmonies that leave me with goosebumps. One thing that I have started to realize as I listen to more music is that each

album tells a story. Order matters. Every song in Shoals has its own role and purpose to the entirety of the album. The songs speak of feelings of pain, love, and uncertainty. It is a raw and soulful album that normalizes the rollercoaster of emotions that one experiences in life and love. And even if you cannot relate to every story told, you feel as though you have. This 12-track album has left a special place in my heart and I know that I will find myself returning to it many times in the future. I could talk about each track on the album in incredible detail, but I encourage anyone reading this review to experience Shoals for themselves. I promise it will not disappoint. — Catherine Henry

Hippo Campus – LP3

Grand Jury Music / 4 February 2022

Source: The Current

“No further questioning, it’s making perfect sense to me now / I gotta chase it on my own.” Extraneous, chaotic synthesizer and booming drums in the pre- and postchorus contrast with the soft, peaceful piano and smooth saxophone of the chorus. The isolation of this tranquil chorus from the rest of the song gives the feeling that it is the eye of the hurricane: a moment when the chaos pauses, worries disappear, and a revelation is reached.

What does a bored guitarist in psychology class lead to? A band named Hippo Campus. Created in 2013, Hippo Campus has consistently destroyed the idea that artists are supposed to fit into a specific genre. With songs that blend dreamy pop and alternative rock, Hippo Campus pushes away categorization and experiments with electronic beats, raw instrumentation, and adventurous lyrics in their new album LP3. The hippocampus: the part of the brain responsible for memory. If one thing is for sure, you won’t quickly forget this new album. Leadoff track “2 Young 2 Die” begins with a stream-of-consciousness verse on the guilt one feels for merely existing in the world. Repetition of the chorus line “Everyone thinks they’re too young to die” leaves an eerie message in the listener’s ears, later contradicted by the second verse, which promotes independence and self-discovery.

It seems to be true of all albums these days: the best songs on LP3 were released... prior to the full album.

It seems to be true of all albums these days: the best songs on LP3 were released as singles and on EP Bang Bang prior to the full album. The first single, “Boys” came to light in October 2021 on BBC Radio 1’s Future Artist Segment. “Boys” is the track that has found the most success on LP3, reaching over 5,000,000 streams. With lyrics that encapsulate hitting rock bottom and the confusion of questioning your sexuality, “Boys” traps listeners into the seemingly never-ending patterns that blur life together. Poetic lyrics such as “Got hungover from your words” make “Boys” one of the best songs on the album, telling the story of a party experience in New York. You can’t help but groove to the beat and the repetition of the chorus six times at the end of the song creates an excellent finish, with each chorus a little louder than the last, providing a lot of opportunity to passionately scream every word. Hippo Campus’ first album, Landmark, gained fame from the catchy, rhyming lyrics that were relatable to the never-ending chirps of young adult brains. Most notably, best selling tracks “Buttercup” and “Way it Goes” incorporate lyrics that promote carefree lifestyles and the existential notion that life simply is what it is. Released in 2017, Landmark established Hippo Campus’ place in the happy indie genre. Listeners expected their next album, Bambi, to encapsulate a

similar energy. Instead, what was released was a darker, cosmic, techno riddled collection, highlighted by sad lyrical tracks “Why Even Try” and “Bambi”. Fans like me may prefer the band’s Spotify single guitar version of “Bambi,” in which an acoustic guitar replaces the meticulously synthesized intro.

LP3 captures aspects of both Landmark and Bambi’s energies. As both uplifting rhymes and depressing lyrics of loss trickle throughout LP3, lead singer Jake Luppen juggles both flawlessly. Using some kind of ghostly auto-tune feature, a gloomy track titled “Listerine” turns a brand of mouthwash into the story of a toxic relationship. Because of the success of the bright, rhyming tracks on Landmark, I anticipate that tracks “Ride or Die” and “Semi Pro” will likely become favorites on LP3. “Ride or Die” is a love story, told by repetitive lyrics and an upbeat groove. It is a catchy tune reminiscent of the band’s earlier works. The chord progression on “Semi Pro” makes it my personal favorite off the album, and the repetitive lyrics discuss fame and dreams.

Source: Cleveland Scene

It is hard to deny that there are great songs on this album followed by overstimulating, headache invoking tracks. The ups and downs present on LP3 make it quite literally a “Ride or Die” album.

It is hard to deny that there are great songs on this album followed by overstimulating, headache invoking tracks. The ups and downs present on LP3 make it quite literally a “Ride or Die” album. A blend of their previous two albums, Landmark and Bambi, LP3 is Hippo Campus’ work in progress that proves that there is more to come from this young band. Eccentric electric instruments blended with poetic lyrics have led to a riveting album that your hippocampus is sure to store for years. — Edie LaMantia

Otoboke Beaver – Itekoma Hits Damnably / 26 April 2019

Source: Stereogum

of the songs are re-recordings of previous singles and songs from their EPs. The album was met with widespread praise from critics and received recognition from Tom Morello and Krist Novoselic, among others. With this newfound success, they quit their jobs and scheduled their first world tour for spring 2020. Although the pandemic set them back, they are finally on tour this year.

Itekoma Hits is Otoboke Beaver’s debut album, released in 2019 via Damnably Records. And, in my humble opinion, it is one of the best albums of the 2010s and will be remembered as one of the best punk albums of all time. With the group’s first worldwide tour underway and their sophomore project SUPER CHAMPON scheduled for May, I found it appropriate to look back on Itekoma Hits and the band’s history up to this point. Otoboke Beaver started in Kyoto, Japan in 2009, when the members met each other in a college music club. Lead singer, Accorinrin, has explained that they were the only women in the club, and felt naturally drawn to each other. They chose to name themselves after a local “love hotel,” the Japanese equivalent of a sleazy motel for young couples. For a decade they played small shows in Kyoto, with all four members juggling playing in the band and maintaining careers. They released several EPs and singles over time, but Itekoma Hits was their first full-length project. It represented the culmination of a decade’s worth of effort; although it is their first album, about half 78

Before Itekoma Hits, I was unaware of the band. When I first listened to this album, I was completely blown away. I had put off listening to it until a few months after its release date and felt angry with myself. How could I have procrastinated on this modern classic? I fell in love with the off-the-wall group vocals, the insane drum and bass lines, and the punishing guitar riffs. For a few months, I only listened to this album. I think part of the reason it struck a chord with me was because of when I listened. It was towards the beginning of the pandemic. I felt deeply depressed and frustrated with the situation I found myself in, as many others did. Days bled into weeks into months with no change as I slowly succumbed to cabin fever. I related to the screaming, repetitive group vocals across Itekoma Hits. With their steady rhythms and talk-sung style, they sound like the riot grrrl equivalent of playground taunts. Even though I didn’t know what they were saying, the frustration was palpable. I understood that the singers, much like myself, were tired of putting up with the way things were. Obviously, the album is not about the pandemic, but lead singer Accorinrin’s lyrics do seem to focus on hatred and frustration. This album is mostly about a string of scummy, unfaithful men who betray a woman’s trust. Many of these songs seem to take the perspective of a housewife: she cooks meals for her unloving husband, she waits anxiously by the door for his return from work, she

discovers an affair with someone from the office. The mundane, boring, unloving lives of Accorinrin’s characters create tension until they finally burst in a flurry of screaming vocal passages. The one major exception is “6 day working week is a pain,” a sardonic piece that protests work culture in Japan. Even here, though, the singer emphasizes their boring, rote, soul-crushing life, with memorable passages like “Working 13 days in a row, kill myself / Working 14 days in a row, kill myself…” In many interviews, the band insists that their work is not feminist, saying that they “don’t sing about women’s rights or women’s issues in our music.” Still, I find it difficult to not read these lyrics as feminist, especially with the group’s clear riot grrrl and punk influences. The first song “datsu . hikage no onna” even calls for the “liberation” of “women in the shadows,” and has an unmistakably feminist angle on dating men. Much of the rage on the album is caused by, and directed towards, men as well. Not to say that this rage towards men is inherently feminist, but in the context of the rest of the album, it is difficult to see it any other way.

If you haven’t given this album a listen, you definitely should. It’s a relatively short listen- just under 25 minutes in total- yet it packs quite a punch. Otoboke Beaver has nowhere to go but up at this point in their career. I eagerly await their next project.

— Eamon Raftery-Sweeney

Source: Bandwagon Asia

As great as the lyrics are, the true draw of Itekoma Hits is the music and vocal performances. Wailing guitars, thumping

bass, and frantic drums punctuate every song on this album. At its noisiest, the album sounds like pure rage. “Don’t light my fire” is one of the most intense songs on the album, with speedy, fuzzy guitar riffs over a groaning bass line that nearly drown out the screaming vocals. Things get noisy, but Beaver’s ear for catchy bass lines never falters, with cool breakdowns on songs like “Introduce me to your family” and “What do you mean…”. The band shows a lot of versatility on this album as well, moving from hardcore punk to riot grrrl/grunge and more pop-influenced tracks, even dipping their toes into psych rock on “6 day working week is a pain.” Each song has lots of versatility too, creating a sense of wild unpredictability on each one. “Bad luck,” for instance, suddenly turns from a frantic, repetitious track into a waltz, and back again. There is just no telling where any song will go.

The Lumineers – BRIGHTSIDE

Dualtone/Decca / 14 January 2022

Source: Bandcamp

commonly found in their music, Wesley Schultz’ folksy twang and Jeremiah Fraites’ mesmerizing piano playing continue to evoke the same emotions for the listener. While being their shortest album yet, BRIGHTSIDE is an important step in the band’s future, as it has been the most influential in their sound development.

On January 18th, The Lumineers released their fourth studio album, BRIGHTSIDE. To say this album is defined by its name is an understatement; it continuously redefines the meaning and effects of “looking on the brightside.” BRIGHTSIDE is a heartfelt, hopeful, and optimistic album. While staying true to their storytelling methods, The Lumineers have successfully evolved their music since their debut album, The Lumineers, an indie folk album. The Lumineers broke away from the stereotypical indie folk album with Cleopatra, but were ultimately met with the same view of being an indie folk band. With III, the band began to move towards a folk-pop/folk-rock sound, until they reached the folk-rock sound with BRIGHTSIDE. If one were to go from listening to The Lumineers then to BRIGHTSIDE, the difference would be striking. Wesley Schultz, the lead singer, and Jeremiah Fraites, the pianist, both lyricists for The Lumineers, manage to bring the same essence to every song they write. While the ukulele and mandolin, previously used in their first few studio albums, are no longer 80

The common saying, “Look on the bright side!” seems to be an important factor in the development of this song and album. The lyrics in many songs contribute to this idea by stating a bad situation and then continuing to say it is alright. Beginning with the title track, “BRIGHTSIDE’’ sets the vibe for this optimistic album with a heavy drumbeat and electric guitar. There is no surprise that this song is about having a positive outlook on a negative situation. The common saying, “Look on the bright side!” seems to be an important factor in the development of this song and album. The lyrics in many songs contribute to this idea by stating a bad situation and then continuing to say it is alright. In the song “WHERE WE ARE,” Wesley Schultz sings about a car crash he and his wife experienced. The repeated chorus goes, “I don’t know where we are, but it’ll be alright.” This contributes to the theme of the album because while they were in a car crash, they are okay and have each other. Between BRIGHTSIDE and their previous album, III, the world was hit by the pandemic. Because of the universal despair the world has faced for the past two years, it is only fitting that The Lumineers produce an album

Source: NPR

My biggest critique for this album is the excessive repetition that appears in a majority of the songs. to give listeners an inkling of hope. Many songs have nods to the pandemic itself, including “ROLLERCOASTER.” The lyrics, “Sittin’ on a rollercoaster holdin’ on for dear life” are repeated twice as the song opens. The comparison of a roller coaster to what society has been through in correlation to the pandemic is incredibly accurate. The world has been going back and forth, and quite literally “holding on for dear life.” Another lyric states, “Everyone was holding on for dear life,” implying the despair people felt throughout as well as the urgency to stay alive and keep others alive. My biggest critique for this album is the excessive repetition that appears in a majority of the songs. Songs such as, “WHERE WE ARE” and “BIRTHDAY,” strip the artistry The

Lumineers have established in many of their other songs, as lyricism had a large impact on The Lumineers’ success. I almost would have rather had shorter songs than the constant repetition of the same lyrics, even with the album only being thirty minutes. Despite my disapproval of the repetition, The Lumineers did create some catchy tunes. I have had too many earworms from this album to truly hate either of these songs. Many fans have become split on whether or not The Lumineers are heading in the right direction with their new sound. However, no listener can deny the effect their music has while playing. The Lumineers achieve a level of artistry that few other bands can. While BRIGHTSIDE is not the typical “Lumineers” story, they still succeed to capture your attention and share a compelling narrative. No matter what you have heard, I urge readers to take a chance and listen to this album. — Allison Beale

Black Country, New Road – Ants From Up There

Source: Bandcamp

Ninja Tune / 4 February 2022

The English rock band Black Country, New Road, recently released their sophomore album, Ants From Up There. This postrock, chamber pop album has the potential to become a timeless breakup album. The seven-membered band crafted a remarkable album with raw vocals, an enticing mix of instruments, and captivating lyrics. The album name, Ants From Up There, refers to the view of what people look like from an airplane. Throughout the album, there is a recurring theme of flight and change, specifically through the Concorde jet. The Concorde jet is a retired commercial aircraft built in the 1960s to travel between the United Kingdom and France. Isaac Wood, the lead singer, continues to reference the Concorde jet multiple times throughout this album. The first mention of it is in the lead single and second song on the album “Chaos Space Marine,” and immediately following is a song named none other than, “Concorde.” Not only does Concorde refer to the jet, but an allusion for Wood’s lost love. “Concorde” is one of the best songs to show the concept of the album. Wood sings, 82

“And you, like Concorde, I came a gentle hill racer. I was breathless upon every mountain, just to look for your light.” Throughout the album, Concorde is in reference to Wood’s ex-lover. Despite Wood feeling confident and secure in his efforts towards the relationship, his ex-lover does not agree. Ants From Up There can refer to how Wood’s ex viewed his efforts as minimal in their relationship. Wood is seen as an ant while the Concorde jet flies above. This may be why so much of this album revolves around Wood’s unwillingness to let his previous relationship go, as referenced in the lyrics “Tryna get home to you and bring you some pieces of the stars” in the song “Good Will Hunting.” This is just one example of his want and willingness to return and make her happy. Despite the addition of a brilliantly crafted album in their playlists, fans nervously await the next release by Black Country, New Road. The phenomenal improvement between their first album, For the First Time, and Ants From Up There is astounding. Preceding the release of Ants From Up There, listeners were met with unfortunate news. Just four days before the album dropped, lead singer and guitarist Isaac Wood left the band for mental health reasons. As one can expect from a sevenpiece band, not every member is expected to perform forever; however, fans cannot help but wonder what will happen to the band’s music. Just how influential was Wood to the development and composition of the music? Black Country, New Road’s Ants From Up There is a one-of-a-kind album. If you are looking to get into more experimental rock and chamber pop, I feel this is a great album to start with. This album may seem daunting at first with its clamorous instrumental ensembles, long tracks, and intricate lyricism, but I can promise you will not regret it. — Allison Beale

haiku reviews Animal Collective – Time Skiffs Rawr! The animals are back. They took their time, but became a jam band. — Livia Martinez

Jack White – Fear Of The Dawn A raucous prog jaunt, rip-roaring roller coaster, Strap in, crank it up.

— Mary Beth Bauermann

Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You Soft sounds of some souls, Gentle and graceful, my mind Makes believe stories. — Van Monday

The Michigan Apple Clone – Full Plant Calm yet climatic Outta my planter, Jonny! I wear tevas….. chomp!! — Cara Davis

Sidney Gish – Ed Buys Houses The drums play ping pong! lyrics, witty riffs fall in place, puzzle pieces — Hannah Garfinkel

Charli XCX – Crash Ouch! This is so fresh! Real women use autotune. Listen and drive safe.

— Livia Martinez

Weezer – SZNZ: Spring Spring is here, Rivers sings, “Shakespeare makes me happy” Me too, man, me too. — Mary Beth Bauermann

Yung Gravy & Dillion Francis – Cake and Cognac Silly and sexy, Just the way Gravy should be. Also, T-Pain’s there! — Sarah Bomar

Peach Pit – From 2 to 3 Sunny, sleepy songs. Take a little beach-day nap, Just don’t get sunburnt. — Sarah Bomar

Pink $weats – Pink Moon gentle, sweet somethings close your sleepy eyes and drift down the midnight river — Vivian Hoang

Staff Editor-in-Chief Isabel Haber

Design Editor Justin Berg

Art Editor

Laura Reitze

Copy Editors

Mary Beth Bauermann Jack Stewart

Art

Evelyn Hall Natalie Lopez Boowa Zarcone

Design

Isabel Haber Catherine Henry Natalie Lopez Boowa Zarcone

Writers

Mary Beth Bauermann Allison Beale Justin Berg Sarah Bomar Erin Collier Cara Davis Hannah Garfinkel Isabel Haber Evelyn Hall Nathan Hall Catherine Henry Vivian Hoang Lina Hunt Abby Johnson Edie LaMantia Natalie Lopez Livia Martinez Van Monday Eamon Raftery-Sweeney Terra Sloane Jack Stewart Boowa Zarcone

Photography

Evelyn Hall Catherine Henry

Video

Izzy Anderson Grace Harrison

Vinyl Tap Spring 2022

Articles inside

Studio Ghibli Films

Travel Music, Montages, and Memories

An Outsider’s Introduction to French Canadian Music

All Around Asia

What Can We Learn?