An Acute Case: 14 June 2024
Around the whack world
hemlocke springs: going…going…GONE!
While completing a Dartmouth MA in medical informatics, 25-year-old Isimeme Udu became a TikTok star for her unlucky-in-love songs one commenter called “awkward Black girl anthems” and I call a legible conception of the ‘80s that extends beyond Stranger Things. Just. But I’d be underselling her to imply that’s all she knows. Her attention-deficient confections make as much room for shoo-wops and fart noises as cloudbusting synths, while the exigencies of content creation mean she’s hardly mastered the sound. Because trends move fast, staying relevant will be hard. And if she lets artistic credibility get to her head, she could blow it all by doing something mad like making an album. It’s a hard row to hoe. Wish her luck. A MINUS
Les Amazones d'Afrique: Musow Danse
The third album from these west African griot grrrls marks ten years since their formation, though Mamani Keïta is the only remaining founding member. She’s joined here by lesser-knowns Fafa Ruffino, Kandy Guira, and Dobet Gnahoré, each with their own reasons to chant and harmonise for women’s rights across not just Africa but the world—a global outlook they commit to by enlisting Jacknife Lee all the way over in SoCal to snip and manipulate their pre-recorded vocals. What his rejiggings lose in spontaneity, they make up for in power-production punchiness. And while his inability to speak the languages isn’t an issue, he is an outsider to the rhythms, which could be. Luckily, the euphonics are taken care of by the voices, which he ensures are undeniable whether solo or together. But mostly together. A MINUS
The Libertines: All Quiet On The Eastern Esplanade
"It's a lifelong project of a life on the lash / I've forgotten how to care but I'll remember for cash." Which they do, valiantly, before the succumbing to the lifeless music hall that’s afflicted British legacy acts from Elvis Costello to Arctic Monkeys. * (“Run Run Run” “Oh Shit”)
Azuka Moweta & his Anioma Brothers Band: Nwanne bu Ife
It’s highlife, Jim, but not as we know it. At least, that’s what the press pack says. Delta state son Azuka incorporates unfamiliar Igbo instruments (“clips”, “long gong”) with more traditional stuff (“drums”, “guitar”), but to discern the novelty you probably need to be more familiar with Nigerian music than me. If it isn’t revolutionary, none of it misses a beat: the tone is edifying, the pace unflappable, the chatter constant, the soloing seamless. The grooves are so locked in you’ll barely notice them change. But flit between the first and last few minutes of 16-minute “Ka Anyi Ribe Ife” (opener on the Spotify version but second on Bandcamp—and while you’re comparing, let me know which version has the better cover because I can’t decide) and note the oh-so subtle, oh-so enchanting difference. A MINUS
St Vincent: All Born Screaming
Intransigently (as ever), configures rock as a series of dramatic tableaux. * (“Broken Man” “Big Time Nothing”)
Taylor Swift: The Tortured Poets Department
Haven’t and probably won’t touch the anthology; 16 songs is a more than sufficient sample of a clever songwriter doing silly rhymes over shiftless production. Now if Jack Antonoff brings his “Please Please Please” game next time, she’ll be back in business. * (“Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?” “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart”)
Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers: I Love You
Teens no more, but not so deep into their 20s that they’re beyond car troubles, though theirs relate to losing their driver’s license rather than mastering the art of parallel parking. The “Kissy Kissy” and “I Love You” stuff is adolescent-turbulent, which doesn’t mean misguided or dumb, just that their high-to-unrealistic expectations are rarely met. “I’ve been thinking about what’s right” spells danger for any would-be mistreater, of which they’ve had their share. Across these plucky, strident, and thoroughly uncluttered pop-punk statements, they join voices and guitars to magnify their disapproval. And, on a couple of quiet ones that do wonders for the dynamics, their vulnerability. Most universally relatable lyric: “I would love to apologise for year 11 and the fight we had.” A MINUS
Tierra Whack: World Wide Whack
Now I’ve got this for context, those Rap?/Pop?/R&B? EPs seem like an actual crisis rather than mere genre questioning. So never mind how this holds up against Whack World (destined to be her …endtroducing); I’m just pleased we’ve got our auteur back. Minimal and then some, most of these 15 songs are constructed from a stark three elements: bloop loop, terse snare, mutant thrum (“INVITATION”); chilly synth, tribal drum, bass quake (“MS BEHAVE”). It’s terrifically compelling, as is her personality, which is brightest when weirdest. Like on the one about her imaginary friends (“his name is Tony and he's wearin blue Sauconys' / he's standin right next to me eatin ravioli”) or how great she sounds in the shower. Here, we learn the flipside to her weirdness is darkness. Not just with “living is difficult” or a finale where she flirts with the “27 CLUB”, but on “BURNING BRAINS”, where, for a hook, she garbles the title directly into the void. A MINUS