Letter From the Editor

Being Editor-in-Chief of EMMIE Magazine is so embarrassing. Writing this letter is embarrassing. The Cheeky Issue is so unserious, and then I have to write the first thing everyone will have to read, which is the most sincere and saccharine page in the issue. As embarrassing as I might find being so sincere and honest and in love with EMMIE, who would I be without it?

Seriously, though. EMMIE was the first thing that I did as soon as I got to college. Before I was even a student here, I would look through EMMIE Magazine’s website and Instagram and think, “that’s so coooooool.” I wanted to be part of it, but it was so scary to me. I had no experience writing professionally about music. Now, I’ve been Editor-in-Chief for almost a year. I’ve done everything for EMMIE from writing album and concert reviews to photography and art. I met all my friends through EMMIE. My roommate and I decided to live together 30 minutes into the first time we met at an EMMIE meeting. EMMIE can lead to wonderful things.

I’m just a girl. I find myself in these big-girl-pants being in charge of EMMIE. It’s not just leading meetings every week and meeting deadlines. It’s working with professionals in the industry – labels, agents, artists. I find people take EMMIE very seriously. As they should. EMMIE is no joke.

Of course, I would never be able to do it alone. Cheesy, cheesy, cheesy, but true. I have an amazing team that I’m so grateful for it’s bringing me to tears just thinking about it. We came together and we made something that we all care for so very much. We share a love for music and a need to write about it. Whether it be about the birth and death of a music movement from the ‘90s or a thank you letter to the Based God; whether it’s our favorite stories to tell from shows we’ve been to or albums that we either loved or hated or didn’t care for; we’re going to write about it.

As EMMIE, we were lucky enough to chat with some of our favorite artists from Samia to Fraxiom to BAYLI to BLACKSTARKIDS to The Beths to Madison local Sex, Fear.

Before you dig into the unserious, whimsical and silly Cheeky Issue, I have to do my rounds. Amelia Zollner, you’re the person I depend on most. You get everything done. You’re so hard-working. I respect you so much. Claudia Chan, thank you so much for fixing up everything every time it needed to be fixed. No words do you justice. Keeley Flynn, you really brought all of our visions to life. You’re the reason the art in EMMIE looks better than it ever has. Caleigh Parsons, you are the cheekiest person I know. I love your art and your words. Elizabeth Walsh, Beth! I never had to ask you to do something more than once, you’re so great at what you do. Quentin Holle, thank you for re-designing the website. We needed that. Arthur Machado 12 fire emojis, thank you for loving EMMIE just as much as me. Lexi Spevacek, the newest addition to the EMMIE editorial board, I knew I could trust you. I can’t wait to see all the amazing things you do.

I also want to commend all the loyal returning writers and all the brand new writers this semester. Everyone who contributed to art, I am so blown away by you! EMMIE looks wonderful and I’ve never seen the art team larger than it was this past semester. This is the prettiest issue of any magazine ever. Mwah.

Being Funny In A Foreign Language By The 1975 Review By Lexi Spevacek

If the previous record by The 1975, NotesOnAConditionalForm , was a two hour video essay that you watched alone in your room while quarantined, BeingFunnyInAForeignLanguage is a play that you attend live with friends on a Friday evening. The sun is setting when you enter the theater, and when it’s over, you walk back out into the city at night, feeling a bit changed. The curtains rise and the play begins with a piano riff interpolated from LCD Soundsystem’s “All My Friends,” over which frontman Matty Healy sets the scene for the audience: an exploration of the state of the world from his perspective. As if coming from a pit orchestra at the play, the instruments build up to the climactic “This is what it looks like.” Healy winds down with a repetition of “I’m sorry if you’re living and you’re seventeen,” followed by over a minute of instrumentals that point toward a glimmer of lingering hope for the future.

As is tradition, the first track is titled “The 1975,” but the song is starkly different from the other album intros, emblematic of how Being Funny marks a noticeable departure from their previous work. It’s the end of the Music For Cars era, which refers to their first four albums. Healy stands on a car in the album art, symbolically conquering what they set out to achieve with Music For Cars. In 2018’s ABriefInquiryIntoOnlineRelationships , Healy admits that “Sincerity Is Scary.” With Being Funny, he surrenders his apprehensions in the name of love. Rather than hiding behind irony and cheeky lyricism, Healy confronts his emotions head on with a refreshing air of vulnerability.

Observations of our social and political climate are a typical trope in The 1975’s discography, and Being Funny is no exception. With “Looking For Somebody (To Love),” Healy examines the role of masculinity in mass shootings over a deceptively upbeat pop track. In “Part Of The Band,” Healy questions his own role in modern internet culture: “Am I ironically woke, the butt of my joke / or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke / calling his ego imagination?” can be gathered by taking a single look at the album cover. At the center of this record is Beabadobee’s exploration of her childhood, and all of the playfulness, imagination, nostalgia and sadness of it. It makes perfect sense that the album cover is a depiction of her imaginary world as a child: Beatopia.

The 1975 isn’t wasting any time with Being Funny, but they also slow down where they need to and let the instrumentation speak for itself on songs like “Happiness,” “About You” and “Part of the Band.” We’re given intermissions to breathe and sit with the sound without feeling overwhelmed by musical ambition. It’s lyrically personal and self-referential, but it’s not as self indulgent as some of their previous work. At 43 minutes, this is their most concise and accessible album yet and has some of their more universally relatable songs.

The band’s most recent tour cycle — appropriately titled The 1975: At Their Very Best — garnered a lot of attention online. These shows act as an expansion of the world of the album; the elaborate set design depicts the stage for the imaginary play, which feels like an intimate glimpse into Healy’s life. Healy himself plays a character which, out of context, lends itself to viral internet clips. It’s at times unclear if the character is a fictional, exaggerated version of Healy’s past self, or if it’s actually him (which is likely his point). There’s confusion, a blurring of lines between reality and fiction as he plays with concerts as performance art. You might not be sure what’s going on, but it’s clear there’s meaning to it all — sort of like hearing someone be funny in a foreign language.

Originally created as a way to cope with her isolating move from the Philippines to London at a young age, Beabadoobee quickly abandoned the fictitious world of Beatopia after being made fun of by her classmates. However, she recently revisited the fantasy for both thematic and sonic inspiration. Not only is the album littered with adolescent imagery and childlike playfulness, it’s also reminiscent of the 2000s sounds of Beabadoobee’s childhood. This 2000s influence is immediately evident in early tracks “Sunny day” and “the perfect pair.” The breezy vocals and lighthearted lyrics of “Sunny day” are sonically similar to 2000s singer-songwriters like Corinne Bailey Rae and Ingrid Michaelson, while “the perfect pair” excellently tackles the bossa nova style. Beabadoobee is able to balance these nostalgic sounds with lyrics concerning communication issues between partners. “We don’t talk much… And I’m so tired of fighting,” Beabadoobee sings with her high-pitched and twisty vocals in the first verse of “the perfect pair.” While these descriptions of a problematic relationship are persistent in the record, Beabadoobee effectively mixes them with moments of tenderness. Tracks like “Lovesong” and “You’re here that’s the thing” display Beabadobee’s quintessential style. The same endearing lyrics and gentle melodies present in these songs are what launched Beabadoobee to TikTok fame with her song “death bed (coffee for your head).” Although the lyrics of these tender love songs could easily be seen as cheesy or cliché, Beabadoobee delivers the content so earnestly that it’s hard not to smile. Lyrics like “You just won’t admit it that you’re smitten / Hold on a minute, please won’t you listen?” can be seen as trite coming from another artist, but impressively, Beabadoobee is able to make it charming without becoming gauche. However, more lyrical diversity and maturity would help with the repetitive nature of the album. Slower tracks “fairy song” and “broken cd” are calmly pleasant, but their simple lyrics allow them to get lost within the 14 song tracklist. Beabadoobee really shines on this record when she leans into an indie rock and bubblegum pop sound. “Talk,” “10:36” and “Don’t get the deal” are particular standouts. The high energy rock and infectious chorus of “10:36” make for a particularly addicting song. Her soft voice, paired with the intense guitar solos and roaring drums on these tracks, creates a truly unique sound that is endlessly listenable.

While Beabadoobee still delivers her trademark loveable sound, she has undoubtedly grown from her 2020 album Fake It Flowers. Her exploration of new sound on the record is impressive, and what Beabadoobee lacks in sophisticated songwriting, she makes up for in charisma and successfully translates the creativity, vibrance and heart of the dreamed up world it was inspired by.

AND IN THE DARKNESS, HEARTS AGLOW BY

REVIEW BY MIKE SONNENBERG

After coming off the immense success of her previous album Weyes Blood had big expectations to live up to. A upon that foundation to reach new heights. With the name Weyes Blood taken from Flannery O’Connor’s 1952 novel, storytelling of the album. Combining this with powerful emotion and production, Weyes Blood creates a deeply moving experience.

On the opening track “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody,” a long introduction builds the somber tone of the song and establishes a slow rhythm. Harmonies created by layers of background singers help contribute to the beautiful soundscape of the album, bringing more emotion and power to Mering’s voice.

This somber sound persists across the board, yet each song feels unique and possesses an identity of its own. Whether it’s the introduction of synths in “Twin Flame” or the distinct guitar on “A Given Thing,” the harmony between singer and instrument is expertly done. The bells of “Grapevine” chiming with Mering as she sings, “And it hits me for the first time / Now we’re just two cars passing by on the grapevine” exemplifies how well-produced this album is. This album amazes as every one of its many moving parts work in collaboration to create a truly ethereal atmosphere. No one piece demands too much attention, instead contributing just enough to deepen the intensity of the entire project.

The range in Mering’s voice allows these songs to reach dynamic peaks where her feelings are almost palpable. Her haunting voice floats above each track, giving the entire album a dreamlike feel. Paired with the lyrics expressing hopelessness and the absence of love, a feeling of distant melancholy washes over the listener. Hearing the vocals slowly build in intensity as Mering sings, “Cause I’ve been waiting for my life to begin / For someone to light up my heart again” on “Hearts Aglow” pulls at the heartstrings without seeming cliché or forced.

And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow is meticulously crafted, with every note and sound feeling deliberately chosen. With only three of 10 tracks coming in under five minutes, there is no rush, and every song is given time to evolve and change from start to finish. “Twin Flame” exemplifies Mering’s storytelling, conveying the pains of heartbreak both lyrically and sonically. This track builds and adds components until it reaches a somber crescendo, as Mering belts the line, “And I’m standing here just calling out your name.” The song trails off and reaches a natural conclusion, and the journey is over. Much like the entirety of AndInTheDarkness,HeartsAglow, the experience is brought to a gentle finish, neatly containing the intensity of the art within.

BY LITTLE SIMZ

REVIEW BY KARLA PONCE

The modern music industry consists of artists and labels fighting to get the attention of another TikTok user, spending months building anticipation and spreading promotion after promotion. In her fight against the culture of artists as commodities, Little Simz dropped her fifth studio album, No Thank You, and gave her listeners only a one-week notice. The action served as a prelude to an album where Simz discusses being exploited by the music industry and, at large, the byproducts of colonialism and capitalism in the Black community.

All too often, when artists of color express their dissent in a world rampant with racialization and oppression, they are worshiped for their valor. Mistakenly, listeners turn these artists into saviors, looking at them for guidance when the artists themselves are pawns in this game. Despite the cinematic score that emanates heroism, No Thank You is Little Simz’s demonstration to the world that she is not the savior everyone is looking for.

No Thank You is unapologetic while rocking over softer drum beats, orchestral ensembles and godly choir music. This album encapsulates all of Simz’s frustrations. It is lined with gleams of hope and strength that she finds in herself and her community. Simz’s self-possession is clear, but moments of vulnerability and uncertainty create a rupture of emotion for those listening.

“‘Play the game, play the game,’ is what they scream / You can play the game, I don’t see the need,” says Simz to the money-hungry antagonists of her life. Self-assured and clear in her grapple, Simz woefully opens with soft drum beats and looped whistling voices in “Angel” and foreshadows hope in the small glimmers of a small string ensemble and chorus by Cleo Sol. While “Angel” is the moment before the opening curtain, “Gorilla” is the true opener of the show. The powerful live drums and gliding notes in the lower strings fortify her unshakeable character. The middle of the album takes a step back. The minor chords construct the unrest that comes with being Black in this world, and a successful Black woman at that, giving Simz a nuanced perspective on such issues.

In the album’s last half, Simz shows vulnerability in her journey. Although “the sky is the limit” is a saying of empowerment and optimism, Simz responds, “Sky gave you limits you had no choice but to accept.” The line challenges people to take a different perspective on their own capabilities. Although the musically stronger side of the album falls in the first three quarters, Simz ends the album with feelings of self-sovereignty. The fluidity in the underwater sounds in “Who Even Cares” stick out from the entire album. They create this feeling of drowning and floating simultaneously, further speaking to the life of the rat race that Simz describes. Despite the mixed feelings of uncertainty, the song repeats, “I’m not scared.” is not an easy listen and bears many emotions that are difficult to address. Simz artfully threads the production and lyricism to create space for relatability and solace. She shows

BLUE REV BY ALVVAYS REVIEW BY LIV DUNCAN

During the 5-year gap between their sophomore album, Antisocialites, and their latest album, Blue Rev , the members of Canadian jangle pop band Alvvays were forced to undergo the most influential period of their lives. Stolen demos, member departures, and flooded equipment — all amongst the global pandemic — compelled the group to reflect and transform both through sounds and words.

Introducing Blue Rev is a cool-toned album cover featuring the lead singer, Molly Rankin, in a nostalgic family photo. It shows Rankin’s father, who passed away during a traumatic stage of her life, ultimately foreshadowing the recurring theme of longing that followed this somber event. The opening track, “Pharmacist,” is synth-heavy and loud, including a wide variety of instrumentation and unpredictability. It opens the album effectively by both suggesting a melancholy theme and juxtaposing said theme with lively percussion and powerful guitar melodies that are heard throughout.

As the album progresses, the story unfolds, following certain stages of grief and uncertainty. Early track “Easy On Your Own?” lyrically illustrates the melancholic mood with lines such as “Crawling in monochromatic hallways” and “Dream about burning down all day.” These lyrics pull the listener into a desolate state of mind. Moving through the record, the theme is prominently raised again in the ninth track, “Tile By Tile,” suggesting perpetual waiting and the uncertainty that follows reflected in the song’s repetitive instrumentation.

Although disheartening lyrics make up the majority of the record, several tracks allow for moments of relief from the surrounding bleakness. At the halfway point, “Very Online Guy” amuses the listener, consisting of techno instrumentals and an enjoyable anecdote that mocks the daily life of a chronically online peer. “Pomeranian Spinster” promotes the same effect — its rock-heavy tone and catchy chorus allow the listener relief from the previously incited dreary mood. Standing out from the rest, the track is energetic and borderline angry as she yells in opposition of being “nice.” Wrapping up the story is “Fourth Figure.” Final stages of grief are mirrored in the song as it focuses on acceptance and closure. Although the story is effectively closed, the way in which they chose to do so seems poorly executed. Lasting only one minute and 20 seconds and using isolated organ melodies, the track is everything but exhilarating. Alvvays missed an opportunity to have a solid, forceful finish.

With BlueRev, the members of Alvvays elevate their lyrical capacity, likely reflecting the time spent in formulating it. They notably imitate melodies with the stories being told — anger is reflected in heavy guitar harmonies, sorrow is reflected in low, repetitive riffs. Because the group does not often stray from their usual instrumentals and rhythms, they could easily wind up in a rut of repetition and consequential boredom. However, they manipulate each track to elicit different emotions to accompany the story being told. With its gratifying sound, intimate narrative and unpredictable tracklist, Blue Rev resulted in a triumphant release for Alvvays.

Not Tight By Domi And Jd Beck Review By

QUENTIN HOLLE

On a rather mundane fall afternoon last semester, I was shocked after hearing of a DOMi & JD BECK concert happening that night on campus. Mere minutes before DOMi & JD BECK took center stage, I managed to snag a ticket from the box office. On drums was JD Beck. He was unstoppable, playing breakbeat rhythms at inhuman speeds with immaculate mechanical accuracy. Playing keys was Domi Louna. She essentially played three instruments at once, playing a unique keyboard with each hand, her feet in control of the basslines.

The instrumentation on NOT TiGHT, their first album, is equally as beautiful and full of depth as their live performances. “LOUNA’S iNTRO” is filled with rich strings and flutes which create a wonderful air of playfulness that persists throughout the entire album. Casual jazz listeners often feel ostracized from the genre due to its perceived professionalism, but NOT TiGHT never takes itself too seriously. “TWO SHRiMPS,” which features Mac DeMarco on vocals, is the strongest track on the album. The driving and rhythmic instrumental is paired with incredibly nonsensical lyrics about shrimps who are on a road trip receiving advice from a cowboy.

The next track, “U DON’T HAVE TO ROB ME,” is a story about the duo talking down someone who is trying to mug them, telling the perpetrator ridiculous things, like that they would buy them “a couch from IKEA” if they choose to not rob the pair. These songs are paired with more serious cuts that give NOTTiGHT a massive level of depth. Thundercat delivers a spectacular performance on vocals and bass on “BOWLiNG.” Jazz deity Herbie Hancock serves thrilling vocals on talkbox paired with a beautiful piano solo on the finale to side one, “MOON.”

The other side of the album is slightly weaker, but it isn’t without its share of great tracks. “TAKE A CHANCE” features excellent vocal harmonies between DOMi and JD BECK and an incredible instrumental switch towards the end of the track, where Anderson .Paak delivers a terrific rap verse accompanied by lively upright bass phrases. “PiLOT” is another highlight, slowing down the tempo of the album into a laid-back groove that works well with the iconic voices of Snoop Dogg and Busta Rhymes.

Hailed as the future of jazz by critics and fans alike, DOMi & JD BECK’s debut album NOT TIGHT is a modern jazz masterpiece that can be enjoyed by nearly anyone. The album is one of the most accessible jazz projects of recent memory, introducing new audiences to jazz staples like Herbie Hancock while keeping them engaged with modern favorites like Mac Demarco and Thundercat. For those who are just getting into jazz as well as those who are experienced listeners, NOT TiGHT is a great listening experience.

Midnights By Taylor Swift

REVIEW BY ELIZABETH WALSH

With each new album, Taylor Swift has completely reinvented herself. We have seen her as a young country music star, a pop sensation, a bad girl with a reputation and, most recently, an indie folk artist with a cabin-in-the-woods feel. With the release of her most recent project, Midnights , we didn’t get a new star to marvel at. Instead, we are revisiting her past. Midnightsis the manifestation of Swift’s late night epiphanies as she reflects on her past eras and lovers. She sings about what she has learned and what still haunts her. In “Maroon,” Swift describes love as “burgundy” and “scarlet,” and compares it to flushed cheeks and rust growing inbetween unused telephones. As she uses a myriad of colors and metaphors to describe the love she felt, it’s anything but red. Swift realizes that the love she called “burning red” in 2012 is much deeper and darker than she originally thought.

Joining Swift on the album is longtime friend and producer Jack Antonoff. Antonoff has worked with Swift on her last six albums and has made a name for himself producing for other major names in pop like Lana Del Rey, Lorde and, most recently, The 1975. While he has produced some of the most notable pop albums of the last decade, his distinct sound has only grown duller with each new album. This trend continues with Midnights and the album begs the question, how many more of the same pop tracks will Antonoff produce before someone makes him stop?

While Swift has a few shining moments on the record, overall the album feels immature and underwhelming. Lyrically, it is Swift’s least impressive body of work. Songs like “AntiHero” and “Vigilante Shit” made fans wince at their cringe-worthy lyrics, with lyrics like “Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby / And I’m a monster on the hill” and “Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man.” The songs quickly turned into memes that made the rounds on TikTok.

In true Swift nature, she had a surprise: a secret second album to accompany Midnights called the 3am Edition . While exciting in the moment, these seven extra tracks fell short and added relatively little to the album. The only song worth noting is “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” which should’ve been included on the original album and not left as an afterthought. The track contains the best lyricism on the album as she allegedly revisits her relationship with John Mayer and sings, “If I was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? / And if I was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands?”

The past few years have been huge for Swift with the immense success of folklore and evermore and the re-releases of two of her old albums. It seems like Swift is running on pure momentum at this point, and not in a good way. Midnights feels rushed and unnecessary. The lyrics are lazy and the production is uninspiring. It feels like it was released for the sake of releasing something, which makes little sense considering she has three previous albums she has yet to tour for. It seems Swift has yet to learn her lesson in abundance; more is not always better.

FOSSORA BY BJÖRK REVIEW BY AVA ALBELO

Björk is now at her most authentic. In Fossora, the singer-songwriter, producer and composer’s latest album, Björk grounds herself in family amidst a post-pandemic environment. She looks back on motherhood as her children have reached maturity and her career continues forward. Connection becomes a surreal rope to grasp at through her turmoil.

With the pandemic, a breakup with her long-term partner and the death of her mother, Björk turns to fungi for meaning. Specifically, mycelium: a fungus that stretches and connects underground like tree roots. The fungus grows as we follow Björk through loss, pain and triumph. The 11th album in the singer’s discography is a cohesive progression of her last two, Vulnicura and Utopia. The first in 2015 focused on her breakup with Matthew Barney, and the next in 2017 was a flowery look on creating a utopia.

In various songs throughout Fossora, Björk’s children are featured in background vocals and create harmonies to blend with her own ethereal voice. Although used in multiple songs, this creative decision most strongly impacts the last song of the album, “Her Mother’s House.” In an interview with Uncut Magazine, Björk says the song makes fun of “how clumsy and clingy you can be” when letting go of a child.

Connection transcends the content of the songs themselves — they become layered within their production. There are parts within Fossora where things get more repetitive and busy between key songs in the album. Songs like “Mycelia” and “Trolla-Gabba” have received criticism for being unnecessarily chaotic interludes, but Björk is an artist who has always played with blurring the line between art and music. The “filler” serves to immerse you in Fossora’s environment.

The highlight of the work is “Freefall.” Its strings evoke a sense of ethereal reflection, and its cello and viola plucking allows the fragility of Björk’s voice to take center stage. Nevertheless, Björk falls victim to her usual clunky lyricism. For example, she sings “Only bird’s-eye view / Can help me transcend / This archetype” in “Victimhood,” “Our love-making avatars in a shell” in “Ovule” and “In a woman’s lifetime / She gets 400 eggs / But only two or three nests” in “Sorrowful Soil.” These lyrics rely on a bit of clumsy heavy-handedness. For an album that is mostly strong in its message, using eggs to talk about motherhood seems like cheating, or, worst of all, silly. Despite this, Fossora’s themes are able to stand the harsh winds of Björk’s lyricism. It thrives through the strength of vocal execution and production, telling everyone what they must know.

If you love Björk because of her need to push the pop music envelope, listen to Fossora. The songs feature stunning, powerful vocals that let listeners into the heartbreak of her loss. They also show radical experimentation in sound, a journey of jolting auditory delights. Most of all, Fossora is a new corner for the same old Björk. She’s not afraid to see where she can grow, change and expand like her beloved mycelium.

STUMPWORK BY DRY CLEANING

REVIEW BY IAN JOHNSON

“I don’t want to go on about it / But we’re back in business / Just a sweet natural start / We will flower,” vocalist Florence Shaw says in “Anna Calls From the Arctic.” In those ten short seconds, Shaw shifts the aim of her lyrical observations from her usual nonsense to her band, Dry Cleaning, marking their evolution from 2021’s NewLongLeg. Their sophomore album Stumpwork displays a compelling musical evolution from the angular new-wave tracks like “Scratchcard Lanyard” to a more polished yet dynamic ‘80s alternative rock sound.

Lyrically, Shaw leaves no stone unturned, from the upbeat single “Gary Ashby,” which describes a lost family tortoise, to the disorganized “Conservative Hell,” which goes from describing a woman who cleans gutters and sinks to describing mushrooms that grow on the street. At times, her surreal and observational lyrics can seem confused and self-involved. More often, though, they form a delicate collage as they wander from the outside world to her own feelings and views. Although her distinctly dry, spoken-word vocal style has become a hallmark of the band, she displays her ability to create melodic and catchy vocal lines in songs like “Don’t Press Me” and “Gary Ashby.” “Don’t Press Me” features a high-energy guitar riff that gives way to an infectious synth melody, pairing perfectly with Shaw’s light and airy vocals.

Musically, Stumpwork takes a step up from prior releases. Guitarist Tom Dowse takes a methodical yet still dissonant approach to lead guitar. Nowhere is this more apparent than the track “Driver’s Story,” where a gnarly opening guitar riff gives way to meandering and dissonant guitar lines, drawing comparisons to mid-’90s Pavement. The basslines on this album are much groovier and more diverse, with bassist Lewis Maynard channeling Talking Heads on the bass driven “Anna Calls From The Arctic’’ and brooding post-rock on “Liberty Log.”

Texturally, Stumpwork incorporates new rhythms and sounds, which helps this album stay fresh over its 45-minute run time, thanks in part to multi-instrumentalist Nick Buxton and producer John Parish. Buxton’s eclectic use of drum machines, sampled sounds and keyboards allow Dry Cleaning to go from the sensual “Anna Calls From The Arctic” to the ominous “Icebergs.” Parish keeps the mix snappy and stripped-back, straying away from the pop clichés and allowing the music to take the forefront.

At times, this album can seem unwilling to go the extra mile to fully explore the experimental sounds and textures found on similar albums by their peers. Still, Dry Cleaning’s jaded but methodical approach to songwriting has produced a new indie rock classic, with Florence Shaw’s melodic spoken word vocals providing a much-needed relief from the formulaic, excessively twee pop of the genre.

Lucky Styles By They Are Gutting A Body Of Water Review By Arthur Machado

Next to hyperlinks and poorly animated 3D gifs, you can find They Are Gutting a Body of Water with a permanent residency in the GeoCity closest to your browser. The ultra-online shoegaze project of Philly-based producer Douglas Dulgarian has been at the forefront of the current wave of DIY shoegaze since 2016. In LuckyStyles , TAGABOW continues to sculpt the future of shoegaze, embracing experimentation as they scour the internet for inspirations.

The 23-minute record — which can be found on streaming services under a simple “S,” as opposed to the full album title — is the first solo TAGABOW project since their breakthrough Destiny XL, and directly follows split EPs they made with slacker slowcore act A Country Western and drum and bass project Full Body 2. LuckyStyles evolves from all these influences into a seamless mix of genres. The buried vocals amid Loveless-esque guitars are now heavily vocoded and pitched up. The wall-of-sound style production now contrasts with nostalgia ridden vaporwave synths. All the genre clashing culminates in what became TAGABOW’s most experimental sounding project to date — but it is, at times, overwhelming.

In “kmart amen break,” Dulgarian takes a page out of the Alex G book of songwriting and opts for a quasi-ethereal autotuned coda, repeating, “And if my pistol / makes a sound / you’ll be sleepin’ underground.” On the other hand, the more traditional “webmaster” more closely resembles shoegaze cult classics like Slowdive, Panchiko and My Bloody Valentine. With tight production, the chemistry between instruments is evident. All the grainy chaos meshes into a slightly drone-like, albeit wistful soundscape.

However, the one aspect that the band excels the most at is the ability to create the perfect ambiance, maybe even to a point where it takes away from the music itself. Tracks like “behind the waterfall” and the title track (as long as you are not using streaming services) “lucky styles” rely too heavily on aesthetics. The songs seem to borrow the soundfonts of classic games like Donkey Kong Country and Mario 64 and utilize them as zoomer-bait. While pretty, the songs do feel unfinished.

LuckyStylesis the perfect reflection of zoomer shoegaze. Dulgarian attempts to introduce genre elements to diversify the band’s sound, but never seems to fully commit to either sound, yielding mixed results in a fairly short album. Much like the late ‘90s internet and video games that inspired the album, the LP feels stuck in the confines of its medium. The silliness of the incorporated sounds is extremely hopeful, and while LuckyStylesis transitional in nature, Dulgarian and friends laid all the groundwork to helm shoegaze toward younger fans.

WORDS BY AMANY KHREIS, ART & PHOTOS BY CLAUDIA CHAN, SHOOT DIRECTED BY AMANY KHREIS, CALEIGH PARSONS AND CLAUDIA CHAN

BAYLI is unbelievably sweet. From the moment I see her, she runs up to me like I’m an old friend and gives me a warm hug. It’s November in Madison and cold. We’re standing outside the Majestic Theatre where, in several hours, she’ll be performing. BAYLI is the type of person to worry about whether you’re cold or not, she says please and thank you often and she’s always smiling. She’s a curious person; she wants to know why we’re named EMMIE and asks about the history behind our magazine. A singer-songwriter from Brooklyn, BAYLI has recently began releasing solo music following her time in The Skins and work she’s done for other artists. As a solo artist, she’s collaborated with artists like SOPHIE and now she’s opening up for Magdalena Bay on tour. BAYLI and I chatted about storytelling in music, why London means so much to her and how her music can be super cheeky, even if she’s a self-proclaimed nerd at heart. Thisinterviewhasbeeneditedforlengthandclarity.

AMANY: I always forget the story behind why it’s called EMMIE. Oops. So M and E. Music and entertainment magazine. That’s the history behind that. Well, since we’re talking about the naming of EMMIE, you know, you go by just your first name… stories from new york… that was my first time trying solo work. My first song ever released was “sushi for breakfast.” stories from new york is experiences and a self discovery in New York City, my hometown, very home based. It’s been really cathartic for me. [stories 2] is also cathartic. The only difference is I wrote these songs in new, different territories: LA, some in Canada, “TELLY BAG” I wrote in Brooklyn… just trying to capture the essence of the cities that I wrote the songs and what I was feeling in those moments. So same concept as stories from new york, except I’m trying to capture what I was experiencing in those new places.

BAYLI: For now! I haven’t ever really thought about it. I just thrust myself into that space. When I was a young, young teenager, I had a band called The Skins. And after we stopped being a band, I kind of just went into songwriting, writing for other artists and now, I’m doing solo work. I thought, why not just keep it 100% real?

Yeah. So you’ve written for other artists?

I’m called a topliner in music industry talk. So, really, I’ll do a lot of hooks. I submit full songs for artists all the time. I’ve written for artists like Blu DeTiger. Cool! And how has touring with Magdalena Bay been?

They’re the best! They were my faves from before. This is my first tour. I have done a few shows in New York, where I’m from, and a few promo shows. I did three dates in London, just one-off shows. This is really like back-to-back shows, seeing how audiences react. I’m doing the same setlist every night, so it’s been really enlightening just seeing how people react to you because all of my music I made during COVID lockdown.

Your EP that you put out this year, it’s called stories 2. I’m assuming that’s following stories from new york?

You talked about how you might have wanted to move to England. Has that happened yet?

Earlier this year, I went to London. I got to travel around the country a little bit.

I was mostly busy doing one-off shows and interviews. It was really a press run, but I don’t know, I still have that craving of living somewhere else and just taking in that new inspiration because I’ve been in New York my whole life. New York is a cool city, but I’m craving that change of pace. I think that’s why I wanted to go for something like stories 2, where I’m capturing these different cities, these different places. London will always remain special because my mom is from London.

Has your mom influenced your music in any way?

Definitely. She’s super cool. I call my parents the first hipsters. They’re just very artsy people. Really eclectic. I grew up in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, which is the home of hip-hop, where all the greats are from. But my mom was playing punk music and post-punk like The Stranglers and the Sex Pistols and all these alternative rock bands. It helped me understand that it’s okay to listen to different sounds.

What’s the origin story with The Skins and why did it come to an end?

My siblings and I started doing music programs after school. We were really young, like 14. We started jamming in our basement and doing covers of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath and we had two friends from music school join us. We started making our own music and went semi-viral on YouTube, started getting show offers and everything linked up. That’s really how I started doing music more seriously. We were together for a few years — we worked with amazing people like Rick Rubin. Then we just got older and everyone wanted to do different types of music. It was kind of that natural, organic thing where you kind of just wanted to free each other up. We stopped playing together, but it was very mutual and respectful, just being in a new phase of life.

I have to talk about “cheeky” before we go. What does that word mean to you?

Cheeky is so British. It’s like, do your parents or aunts or anything say ‘fresh?’ I think it’s just my community. They’ll say, ‘you’re being fresh, chill out.’ If you’re doing a lot or being too much. It’s kind of being sassy. Cheeky… You’re being a little mischievous. So we love a cheeky moment anywhere we can get it. I feel like a nerd, like a shy person, but I think people think of me as cheeky and a provocative artist. I don’t hate it! That makes me sound so much cooler! I like to talk about things in my lyrics that maybe people don’t talk about on a regular basis. So I think there’s a little bit of cheekiness in my music, at least.

I was gonna say… even the title “sushi for breakfast,” it’s cheeky. It’s very cheeky.

WORDS BY CLAIRE BORGELT, PHOTOS BY LEXI SPEVACEK, ART BY ELLIOT NOVAK

Madison-based post-punk band Sex, Fear has perfected a delicate balance between the solemn and the absurd. On Sex, Fear Presents:, their debut album, they set quirky tracks like “Funko Pop” and “Chicken Dinner” against moments of composed introspection on “Matt’s Song” and “Marooned.” Their live performances keep audiences pleasantly baffled; they’re notorious for doubling up on drumkits, unveiling setlists of entirely unreleased material and donning matching SpiderMan costumes. I spoke with the band to discuss their history, their upcoming LP and the inspirations behind their eclectic approach. Thisinterviewhasbeeneditedforlengthandclarity.

So, how did you all get to know each other? Can you tell us about the band’s origins?

Ayden Schultz (guitar and vocals): Nick and I went to the same high school in Appleton. And then we lived in the dorms together. And we had plans for a band but were missing some people. Nick Jacobson (drums): Once we moved into a house, we wanted to start a band. So we moved here three years ago, right? We ended up just finding Zac and Matt. And had another guitarist named Micah. He lived with us for like a semester, I think. So he was in the band back then, too.

Jeff Deiss (guitar): I was the late addition because Micah moved back to Appleton. And then I was texting Ayden on Instagram, and I was just like, ‘I love Sex, Fear! I want to jam with you guys!’ And then after, they were like, ‘Oh, by the way, we don’t have a third guitarist, do you want to join?’ I was like, ‘Okay, let’s go! This was the audition?’

Do you have any memories from the early days of the band that you really like?

Ayden: I think about our first show a lot. We’ve still got the news article from the Badger Herald that has pictures from that. It was just kind of a good test. I’d played in an ensemble before and in high school, but never just in like a rock band that I’d put together. Jeff: I was there for the student paper. I was like, this music is really scary… I have to get involved.

Jeff, how about when you first joined the band? Do you have any memories from that time?

Jeff: Well, the first show I played was outside on a makeshift stage that was lit with lamps. We played with Bug Moment and a bunch of other bands. I was playing guitar so hard that I dropped my pick, but I just kept playing and all the skin ripped off my fingers. I was bleeding on my guitar. I was signing people’s body parts too… signing my name in blood.

Ayden: He earned his guitarist title. Your songs really do cover such a wide range of topics. Some of them are really deep and philosophical. Then there’s the ones about an unhealthy obsession with Funko Pops. It’s awesome to have that kind of range. Where do you go for inspiration?

Ayden: For me, it’s just kind of my own experiences, but I try to introduce some sort of novelty, some sort of alternate angle. It might be a common thing to write a love song or a song about anxiety, but I try to at least put a spin on it in terms of delivery or how specific I’m getting with the ideas I’m trying to convey. I just feel like we shouldn’t be restricted by the precedents that have already been set. Matt’s lyrics on “Funko Pop” are really great because they do that. At its core, it’s about things you see all the time – anxiety and depression and obsession – but with a spin on it. You have a character that’s into something funny, like Funko Pops — that’s where the novelty comes in.

You also have this wonderfully bizarre social media presence, especially on Twitter. How do you find the balance between having more introspective things going on in your music and showcasing the sillier side of the band elsewhere?

Matt Jarosinski (guitar and vocals): We’re an implicitly funny band.

Ayden: The persona is kind of inspired by some of the posthardcore bands we like from the ‘90s. Slint was an implicitly funny band. They engaged in all sorts of hijinks and wrote kind of funny songs while still having a very well-composed and serious compositional style.

Jeff: I think the name also gets people. Everybody has a different reaction. I mean, some people think it’s hilarious. My friends have started pronouncing commas between words to make fun of me. They’re like, ‘Hey, comma, Jeff. Can you, comma, pass me the remote?’ and Kevin Durant stands defeated, hands on his hips. Game 7 of the 2016 NBA Western Conference Finals is over and his Oklahoma City Thunder have just missed a trip to the championship. In the weeks that followed, sports talking heads searched for answers: did the Thunder just choke? Was the Warriors’ Steph Curry just too good? Was KD simply incapable of hanging with the best of them? There was no consensus. But real ones knew:

For those who might not know, could you explain where the name’s from?

Ayden: When we started, Zac, Nick, Micah and I were all living together. We would sometimes watch Star Trek: The Next Generation on Netflix. The parental guidance content warning says it’s rated TV PG for ‘Sex, Fear.’ We had a list of names we were voting between. We first decided on The Long Division. Glad we changed it because that’s kind of stupid. We also could have been Walmart. Just the name of the store.

Jeff: I’m so g lad you chose Sex, Fear. These names are awful! So after all, this is The Cheeky Issue. What does that word mean to you?

Matt: Playful.

Ayden: Tongue in cheek.

Nick: Implicitly funny.

Zac: Kind of like us. Right! How does Sex, Fear embody that?

Jeff: Super cheeky.

Ayden: I guess what we want to prove is that you can write sad, scary music and still have fun, you know?

Kevin Durant was under the Curse of the Based God.

Back in 2011, the Based God, more commonly known as Lil B, laid down a curse on the NBA superstar, tweeting, “KEVIN DURANT WILL NEVER WIN THE TITLE AFTER HE SAID ‘LIL B’ IS A WACK RAPPER.” KD had gotten close, reaching the NBA Finals in 2012, but could never get over the hump. Perhaps feeling bad for the OKC star, perhaps simply having gotten over his grudge, Lil B generously lifted the curse after the end of the 2016 season. Call it ridiculous, call it corny, call it stupid. All you need to do is check the stats — in the two years that followed, KD won back-to-back championships.

But there’s a lot more to Lil B than basketball wizardry. In 2009, he uploaded his first mixtape, I’m Thraxx. By the end of 2010, he had released over 1500 songs. The next year saw nine more Lil B projects (2012 had 16). Going into the mid-2010s, Lil B was king of the internet. Fans took to Twitter to declare their love, where “Thank You Based God,’’ often abbreviated TYBG, quickly became a catchphrase. The artist’s online activity matched his release pace. Uploads on MySpace and DatPiff were accompanied by Facebook memes and DIY music videos on YouTube. There was no mistaking Lil B’s approach: he was not a conventional artist, and he refused to do things the conventional way. He would not sign to a label, he would not box in his sound, and if you thought he was gonna wear baggy pants, you were dead wrong. Lil B’s style didn’t — and still doesn’t — fit the old-school expectations of hip-hop. Much of his music has an amateurish, lighthearted feeling: his delivery often borders on rambling, his choices of subject matter are odd and his lyrics can be hard to take seriously (on “Breath Slow,” he drones “SpongeBob BasedGod, you’re so funny”). However, there’s a sense of earnestness in Lil B’s music beyond his punchlines. His philosophy, being Based, is the spiritual center of his work. To be Based is to be yourself, spreading love and positivity wherever you can. The Based God pursues this ideal relentlessly. See “I Love You,” a love song dedicated to all Lil B’s listeners. From any other artist, the saccharine delivery would probably sound corny, but after you’ve heard any other part of his catalog, you know the lines “I love you / Yes, you can cry to this / Yes, I love you too” come straight from the heart. It’s an acquired taste, but before you know it, you’re eagerly awaiting the next “yesss” ad-lib.

At first glance, Lil B’s fame might appear to be a trivial cultural offshoot of the early 2010s, an oddball whose cult following briefly — and inconsequentially — shot his popularity into the stratosphere. But his impact would prove that he was more than a fad. Often referred to as cloud rap, Lil B’s euphoric, lo-fi style was developed alongside peers Viper and SpaceGhostPurrp, who were equally inclined to pack their release schedules. As the decade marched on, cloud rap would be brought to the mainstream by artists like A$AP Rocky, whose massively popular 2011 mixtape Live. Love. A$AP featured verses from SpaceGhostPurrp and was produced by frequent Lil B collaborator Clams Casino.

While Lil B is far from done — his latest venture, Afrikantis, dropped last December — he’s got some new contemporaries. Perhaps the best successor of Lil B’s hyperprolific style is Rochester’s RXK Nephew, who’s been putting out music alongside longtime friend Rx Papi since 2019. He shares Lil B’s love for YouTube, often uploading multiple tracks per day. His followers express the same cult enthusiasm that backed Lil B’s rise, flooding his comment sections with praise (or simply “RXK RXK RXK RXK RXK”).

Much like his Internet-based predecessors, RXK Nephew isn’t super picky about his production, often crowd-sourcing beats from Twitter. This approach means his catalog is full of different sounds, ranging from 808-dominated trap beats to four-on-the-floor house instrumentals. His vocals keep up with the variety: “SlitherMan SOLO set” opts for a metalesque growl, “Beam On Ya Toes” features a signature whisper on the chorus and “Nephew B.I.G” sees the rapper screaming at the top of his lungs. But sending Neph a beat doesn’t spare you from criticism. The last minute of “Blackberry Touchscreen” is dedicated to making fun of its instrumental: “They should’ve sent this beat to Ja Rule or Fat Joe to do a Verzuz / Can’t wait till this beat end, this shit got my ears hurtin’.”

Neph jumps from topic to topic without hesitation, never afraid to throw

ART BY AVA ALBELO

in a non sequitur (“Modern day Prince without his ass out!”), letting his thoughts guide him through the beat on the spot. He’s prone to tangents, often looping an entire beat to make sure he can say what he needs to say. These tendencies are highlighted on Crack Therapy 3 standout “American tterroristt”, a ten-minute epic with lines like “Vaccine got us mutatin’ / Fuck it then imma go take it”, “Explain to me why the fuck Benjamin Franklin stood his ass up on the roof”, and “Who the fuck is that white man Santa Claus?”

While there’s over a decade between the start of their careers, Lil B and Neph aren’t as far apart as the years might suggest. Lil B publicly declared his support for RXK Nephew back in 2021, calling him “the new generation and the future of music.” The admiration goes both ways. Neph’s lyrics are full of references, “walk in that bitch like Based God!” for one. It isn’t hard to hear Lil B throughout RXK Nephew’s work, whether it’s a name drop or a similar stylistic flourish. Take a listen to

“Frames” off Till I’m Dead, Neph’s most recent album; you just might hear a familiar name.

Fourteen years after I’m Thraxx, Lil B’s fingerprints are all over hip-hop. Using the internet as a launchpad for a musical career is no longer the move of an outsider. Recent years have seen SoundCloud sensations like Juice WRLD and Lil Yachty find their place in the mainstream, and social media is more essential for an artist’s image than ever. The sounds Lil B helped create back in the 2010s haven’t gone anywhere, either. Swedish collective Drain Gang, Yung Lean, Viper and the Based God himself are still carrying the torch of cloud rap, and his DIY ethos lives on in the work of Milwaukee artists like Certified Trapper and AyooLii. And as for RXK Nephew? He joined forces with Lil B in 2022, rapping over one of his beats on “Who Did What Again.” Every year takes us further from the start of Lil B’s career, but his influence — and presence — remains strong. Forever and always: Thank you, Based God.

Who is Frax?’ I’m just an artist interpreting the world I was born in,” says the bunnyhat-donning producer. “My sound? I make personal pop music — like pop, but it only means something to me, and that’s okay.”

24-year-old Fraxiom quickly rose to fame with the quarantine hyperpop boom. Alongside fellow producer Gupi, they form half of Food House and have been a staple in the diverse internet pop scene, from Minecraft festivals to Boiler Room.

Guiding us through the liminal backrooms, the performer’s bright pink hair stands out among the bright white clinical hallways. After a night of 2012 nostalgia with Girls That, hyperpop insanity with OTM and whoTF and Frax’s show-stealing performances, it is clear we are stepping into their domain; where the ordinary is transformed by their whimsy.

The genre that started in the late 2010s with artists like SOPHIE, 100 gecs and A.G. Cook recently had an entire batch of new creators burst out of the online bubble, and Frax is no different. At the start of the year, they embarked on their first headlining tour alongside duo whoTF, solidifying their transition from the cyberworld into alternative pop stardom.

“This tour is very validating and it makes me feel like what I am doing is just so much more real. I’ve been able to see the impact that my music and message has had on all these different groups of queer people all over the country,” Fraxiom says.

With the FUTCH UP AMERICA tour, Fraxiom and whoTF aimed to bring these hyperpop concerts to fans that otherwise would not be able to have these events as often.

“Keeping your shows in LA and New York sort of paints this image of queer safety being a goal that you need money to achieve,” Fraxiom says. “It paints this image of: you need to pay rent and live in Brooklyn or LA or else you are a freak and you are not safe outside. I think that it’s really important to degentrify queer safety and make more places in this country, more neighborhoods, more cities just safe for us.”

By definition, hyperpop is a genre that mirrors the fast-changing community that embodies it. A song that comes out today is a world of difference away from a song that came out a year ago, with each producer building upon the quirks of the last, the only constant being their relationship with digital cultures.

“I would describe my nostalgia as iPod Touch, like Black Eyed Peas, Super Mario Galaxy, early 2010s. The nostalgia cycle that we are milking is five to 10 years ahead of the nostalgia cycle that is going to be popular,” Fraxiom says.

With cheeky lyrics like “Fuck Notch, fuck Musk and I’ll piss on Zedd,” “I go Dr. Doofenshmirtz, MrBeast, Eiffel Tower” and the iconic “Get your ass off Twitter cause it gives you fucking mental illness,” Fraxiom voices the reactionary nature of chronically online zoomers.

“Every artist has the ability to commodify random things that they think looks cool, and is important to them,” Frax says. “Being able to build a lot of hype and glorify almost mundane, trivial little items that anyone can really go by and access makes the fun in your music accessible.”

During their show, the popstar hypes up the crowd by asking everyone to “put their little pronouns together” and introduces themself as “Champagne Papi” before having 40 minutes of all their lyrics screamed right back at them by devoted fans.

From their energetic performances to goofy, self-referential lyricism and constant samples of 2000s pop culture, Fraxiom epitomizes the undeniable cheekiness of hyperpop and empowers the message of queer liberation.

“Cheeky is letting your guard down and getting a little silly with it,” Fraxiom says. “It’s not being afraid to use comedy as a medium for a more serious message. When you put something very silly next to something very serious, most people view it as wholly ironic, but I think that there is a deeper impact to doing things like that.”

With multiple projects, collaborations and multimedia initiatives under their belt, Fraxiom showcases how to turn online fame and wit into something much bigger. Their last solo project You Have Completely Destroyed Me!!!! is their most mature to date, glancing upon themes of mental illness, stardom, gender identity and expression Fraxiom’s personal pop ventures beyond those things that only mean something to them. Be it through cheeky comedy or melancholic honesty, the producer is a voice to a generation that, much like themselves, struggles to interpret the world they are born in.

“It is very easy for me to compartmentalize my music as just a fluke of online success because of COVID, but that discounts the fact that the queer people who we are helping with the music are very much real people, and they love to have music that is for them.”

Opening for The 1975’s “At Their Very Best” tour brought BLACKSTARKIDS back to their Missouri hometown in December of 2022. They performed at the same arena the three members of the band graduated in years before, a full circle moment for Ty, Deiondre and Gabe, who met in high school in Kansas City.

Having made music together since they were teenagers, it’s clear the band knows exactly what it is.

I meet the three to photograph them in their green room at the Rave Eagles Club in Milwaukee hours before they go on stage, and they assume their poses like it’s second nature — they visually come together as one entity in the same way they do in their songs and while performing.

Ty puts on a more subdued and straight faced persona for the photos but reanimates and takes the lead with the most to say answering questions. Gabe’s same bubbly personality that’s immediately felt upon meeting her shines through in their music and performances. Deiondre is the quietest of the three but chimes in with comedic relief and always strikes the quirkiest pose.

Despite having similar backgrounds and collaborating for years together, the three distinct minds that make up BLACKSTARKIDS ensure that their music is always evolving. The trio’s earlier projects drew heavy inspiration from growing up confined to their hometown.

“That’s all we were experiencing at the time, we didn’t have any money,” Ty says. “We were documenting the style of life that we were all living.”

Now, the band is able to pull inspiration from a far broader repertoire of experiences. Being on tour with The 1975 in 2022 brought BLACKSTARKIDS thousands of miles beyond the borders of Missouri. Playing arenas across the country, the three saw things they had never imagined, like fans holding signs and yelling phrases such as “you slay!” or “spit on my face.”

“I declined the offer,” Ty says of the spit request. “I don’t think I’m gonna do it, but that was definitely interesting.”

BLACKSTARKIDS are happy to be embraced by The 1975 fan base and appreciate even the strangest interactions. They describe concerts as a collective experience between the artist and audience, so they’re down for however people choose to live in that moment.

In the running for wildest concert experience for BLACKSTARKIDS is watching The 1975 frontman Matty Healy eat raw meat on stage during a performance at Madison Square Garden. But in typical BLACKSTARKIDS fashion, they embrace the weirdness.

“That’s rockstar shit, I fuck with it,” Gabe says. “Gets people talking, doesn’t it?” Deiondre adds.

The three commend Healy for actually eating the raw meat, unlike social media influencer Liver King, who got called out for faking his raw meat consumption.

“Matty’s the new Liver King,” they declare.

While there’s no raw meat and no bodily fluidrelated requests from the audience that I can see that night in Milwaukee, BLACKSTARKIDS’ performance captivates the crowd. They radiate an energy that electrifies the room, and it’s hard not to get up and dance with them.

You can feel the energy just by listening to their 2022 album CYBERKISS*. It’s their most diverse body of work yet; it’s colorful, loud, digital, energetic and bright. The fusion of alternative pop rock, R&B and hip-hop with Y2K influences their nostalgic, refreshing music. Each of the band members’ personalities pop in their songs, creating a unique and fluid sound that they’re not afraid to experiment with. They never hesitate to go all in.

In between BLACKSTARKIDS’ aesthetic and sonic playfulness, you’ll find sincerity and passion in their lyricism. They want you to dance, but also take in what they’re saying.

“I think a lot of people kind of come with this perception that everything is all just silly with us,” Ty says, “but I feel like if you really listen to the music, you get a deeper picture than what people try to paint sometimes.”

CYBERKISS* is also the most the band has ever put of themselves into their music, with some of their most personally important themes. The album dives into the angst of young people living in a politically charged world and expresses both pride and frustration of being Black in America, evidenced by songs like “JOY,” “BOYCOTT” and “PEACH COBBLER.”

Having released five albums between 2019 and 2022, BLACKSTARKIDS isn’t stopping anytime soon. They’re hoping to keep the momentum of CYBERKISS*going with a headline tour and more music in the future.

And of course, while tackling deeper and bigger themes in their music, they don’t lose sight of the silliness.

As a member of perhaps the cheekiest band of the Cheeky issue, we have to ask Ty what the word means to him.

“Something tangible that you can grasp onto and have a good grip on and um… bounce off of. You know, something like that.”