An Acute Case: 23 August 2024

You are older than you've ever been right now... and now... and now

Avery Anna: Breakup Over Breakfast
From a 20-year-old debutant, the first (as far as I’m aware) country attempt at Olivia Rodrigo’s rock aesthetic. Admittedly, it sounds more like butt rock emo. But someone’s gotta stick their head out. * (“Breakup Over Breakfast” “Blonde”)

Baby Queen: Quarter Life Crisis
Reasonable grab at the synthpop big-time consisting of more boilerplate choices than you’d expect from someone who insists on their intelligence and shows some glimpses of backing it up. * (“i can't get my shit together” “Quarter Life Crisis”)

Fox Green: Light Over Darkness
Still fundamentally a lyrics band, but now with the musical variety to give their ideas greater reach. If that forces Wade Derden’s voice into uncomfortable places, well, that’s never been a problem for Mike Cooley. Swampy rock-a-byes provide more comfortable settings, but their best work is their most adventurous, especially when it demonstrates their understanding of a religious feeling undiminished by Durden and co-writer/guitarist Cam Patterson’s apostacy. That they deploy that understanding on songs about army vets who only enlisted because they missed their rent and town hall meetings where “some people got to talk” and “some people didn’t” but “all wanted decent healthcare” shows they’re prepared to go as deep as the hook “what happens when you get down to the bone?” says they are. Despite flugelhorn, trumpet, and sax, nothing testifies like the backing voices of Genine Perez and Sara Thomas. They rubber stamp this as southern, with the literary stuff reinforcing it with unexplained weirdness: the world’s smallest petting zoo (two chickens); Wade’s mum “punching tin” with Sleepy John Estes; or the witch on Shady Banks Lane whose hair is tied with chicken wire. Now who all’s seen the leprechaun, say yeah. A MINUS

girl in red: I’M DOING IT AGAIN BABY!
On her slip of a major label follow-up to her slip of an indie pop breakthrough, Norwegian Marie Tulven overcomes writers block by flipping the script on if i could make it go quiet. Sad and mellow is still fashionable but a willingness to try anything including banjos isn’t, so the response hasn’t been fulsome. But as Tulven acknowledges, “time doesn’t stop for a sad little girl.” So in all caps typographically and musically, she confects one melody-and-hook earworm after another with a precision worthy of her Scandi-pop forbears—a lineage she nods to on her closing fantasy about Warhol’s Factory. Insecurities and imperfections abound, as do the offences of what I assume is the same ex purely from the consistency of their behaviour: “you trivialised everything”; ““it’s just a joke” you always say afterwards”; “you made heartbreak look elegant, abused me with intelligence.” But she frames it all by letting you know that she’s rebuilt her self-esteem from the ruins of that relationship. Hope it lasts. A MINUS

Rail Band: Rail Band
It’s worth recounting the finer points of this band’s background simply because they’re so unusual. Formed in 1970, they were sponsored by Mali’s Ministry of Information and/or railway administration, with the band members considered government employees and their equipment owned by the state. Yet, presumably due to lack of means rather than will, this record was produced by the Federal Government of Nigeria on behalf of their neighbours in the northwest. With only a handful of albums extant and those featuring repeated songs and dubious recording dates/credits/band names/song titles, their legacy is murky. Perhaps that’s why this one’s being treated as definitive. Recorded in 1971, original member Salif Keita is all over it, but despite his subsequent global renown he blends into the supreme cool of the performances along with everyone else. Jauntily combining modern and traditional instruments into a Latin-infused West African groove, their formula is to lock in, find another groove, repeat. When they peak, someone shrieks like James Brown, which reminds you how funky they were. Though they’re shrieked-out early on, they still manage an “aaaah-choo” to usher in finale “Moko Jolo”. A MINUS

The Baby Seal: Chaos
It’s not inconceivable that this feminist trio will develop the musical chops to equal song titles like “Yawn Porn”, “Id’d at Aldi”, "My Labia is Lopsided, But I Don't Mind", "Mild Misogynist", and "Nipple Hair", which, this being punk, are also most of the lyrics. * (“Id’d At Aldi” “Vibrator”)

This Is Lorelei: Box for Buddy, Box for Star
Per Bandcamp: "written / recorded / produced / blahblahblah by Nate Amos, summer 2022.” If I’m right, that puts this after My Idea’s Cry MFer and before Water From Your Eyes’s Everyone’s Crushed, i.e. post Amos’s breakup with Lily Konigsberg but pre kicking his substance use—except in interviews he says he was high for every song on Everyone’s Crushed but for this one talks about sobriety, so assume I’m not right. The “blahblahblah” is more instructive. Touted as his trad album, it’s singer-songwriter in style only and more tossed-off than other reviews admit. Fundamentally, he’s an ideas guy, so song form is just another way to experiment rather than articulate complex feelings. As music largely about music, it risks tripping itself , with “A Song That Sings About You” followed one song that sings about something else later by “An Extra Beat for Me and You”. Luckily, Amos has the kind of dry humour that means he can’t resist answering his own rhetorical questions, so it never gets too cute. B PLUS

Rosie Tucker: Sucker Supreme (’22)
My sense that UTOPIA NOW! was tuned a little tight is strengthened by hearing its predecessor. A game of cat, mouse, and other mouse between Tucker’s seesawing post-teen voice, Sadie Dupuis-indebted guitar, and articulate as opposed to literary lyrics, it twists and turns spontaneously and lightly. Drum rolls arrive from leftfield, melodies creep in without shouting boo, and songs can’t decide whether it’s bedtime or crunch time so have it both ways. Though the thrill is in hearing Tucker’s quest rather than their discoveries, snatches of wisdom can be found between the references to meat substitutes, habaneros, car crash playlists, and ambrosia served with Cool Whip. “Wouldn't we be perfect together if we wanted exactly the same thing?” they ask, knowing that "nothing is simple just cause you wish that it is" but hoping they’ll still be able to "love you in all possible lives" even though “I am older every second than I’ve ever been right now, and now, and now.” A