It’s been four years since we last got an album of entirely new material from Car Seat Headrest. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a huge gap – but in roughly the same span of time, before signing to Matador, Will Toledo released no less than 12 albums on Bandcamp under the same moniker. But 2016’s Teens of Denial was a turning point for the project – an indie rock juggernaut that came to be scrutinized as much by critics who praised it for its dynamic yet catchy song structures as it was by fans who analysed it interminably in Reddit subforums.
Not that Toledo has been entirely absent during this time. In 2018, he released a re-recorded, polished version of his 2011 project Twin Fantasy, to more critical acclaim. He continued repurposing old material with 2019’s Commit Yourself Completely, this time through the live album format. But most intriguingly, he put out two albums with drummer Andrew Katz as 1 Trait Danger, a comedic EDM ‘side-project’ where Toledo could cheekily poke fun at the very same system that had crowned him indie rock royalty. Wit and humour had always been among Toledo’s strong suits as a songwriter, but for the first time, he could enjoy making something defiantly silly and balls-to-the-wall fun, with absolutely no regard as to how it would be received.
For Toledo, keeping the two projects separate didn’t seem like the more interesting option, and so Making a Door Less Open marks the grand introduction of his new persona, Trait, to the rest of the world. Inspired by the Bob Dylan mantra “if someone’s wearing a mask, he’s gonna tell you the truth”, this new character finds Toledo wearing a gas mask (talk about bad timing), partly because it simply makes him feel more comfortable during live performances, but perhaps also as a way of separating the himself from his art. With all the fame and scrutiny that came with the intensely personal Teens of Denial, you can’t exactly blame him.
Musically, too, the sounds Toledo has been experimenting with on his side-project find their way on Making a Door Less Open. Not too dissimilar in style from fellow mask-wearing, genre-mixing alternative duo Twenty One Pilots, Car Seat Headrest’s latest presents itself as the classic ‘indie rock band experimenting with electronic production’ album, from the droning synths that open ‘Weightlifters’ to straight-up EDM jams like ‘Deadlines (Thoughtful)’. But MADLO is harder to figure out, as it sounds like it’s trying to be as much of an appeal to the masses as it is an off-kilter experiment – on one end, there’s ‘Deadlines (Hostile)’, which might as well be a cover of a Killers song, and on the other, there’s the utterly chaotic ‘Hymn (Remix)’ (one of three version spread across the album’s different formats). Neither of them are exactly bad, by any means, but it feels like Toledo’s not willing to commit to either direction fully.
Which, of course, is kind of the point. Rather than trying to open a new door, Toledo seems to be frustratingly caught in between ones he’s already opened, different sides of him that are at odds with each other. On the one hand, there’s Trait, who looks at the stupidity of the world and screams about how it “makes him wanna puke” (‘Hollywood’) and sums up the futility of the creative process by pointing out that “You are not unique/ Everything you’ve done has been done and will be done again” (1 Trait Danger’s ‘Unique’). And then there’s that other side, the one that still yearns for meaning: “Please let this matter,” he sings out on ‘Famous’.
If it weren’t for the upbeat electronic beat that guides the song, ‘Famous’ wouldn’t feel out of place on any other Car Seat Headrest record. In fact, with the exception of tracks like ‘Hollywood’, which sounds like the long-lost cousin to My Chemical Romance’s ‘Teenagers’, the majority of the album doesn’t stray that far from Toledo’s usual songwriting tropes – take the acoustic cut ‘What’s With You Lately’, for example, or the soaring ‘Life Worth Missing’. Neither does Trait’s snarkiness overshadow the kind of soul-searching Toledo’s become known for. Of the songs that do tread new sonic ground for the band, though, ‘Can’t Cool Me Down’ is the most memorable one – Toledo’s uneasy hum cooing brilliantly against slowly-unfolding, Radiohead-esque electronics.
It’s not that other experiments here aren’t successful, but there’s a kind of messiness to the album as a whole that makes it hard to make sense of. Which, again, for an album that’s about feeling lost, is probably intentional – the questions Toledo poses remain largely unresolved, so it only makes sense for the songs to lack resolution, too. On the 7-minute epic ‘There Must Be More than Blood’, he sings: “There must be more than blood/ That holds us together/ There must be more than wind/ That takes us away/ There must be more than tears/ When they pull back the curtain/ There must be more than fear.” Unable to find an answer, he closes the song by repeating the lines “There must be more, there must be more, there must be.”
Toledo knows that there are no answers, but a part of him is still unable to fully let go and just have fun with it. “I am not that shallow,” he declares on ‘Deadlines (Thoughtful)’, “I am not that deep.” As intriguing as that conflict is, one does wish that it was explored in a bit more depth here – as it is, the album can sometimes feel aimlessly disorienting in its ambivalence. But while it doesn’t reach the same soaring heights as Teens of Denial – something Toledo has pointedly avoided trying – there are still plenty of worthwhile moments on MADLO, even if the subtext is sometimes more interesting than the album itself.
It’s hard to judge an album fairly when the hype surrounding it has been so overwhelming, but from its very first moments, the raw intensity of Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters is simply impossible to ignore. This is one of those records that instantly earns its place in history thanks to the sheer magnetism of its recordings and the fearless, yet fractured personality behind it. A tour de force from start to finish, the album is a culmination of everything that’s defined Apple’s legacy so far – musically, it builds on the experimental leanings of 2012’s The Idler Wheel…, but the songs feel more immediate and oddly catchy. For the most part, Apple relies on these ever-evolving piano arrangements and the pure dynamism of her voice, but it’s the percussion that’s the true stand-out here; there’s a serpentine quality to it that makes it utterly riveting as each song glides to the next. It’s Apple’s most intimate album, and yet unlike its inwardly-drawn predecessor, Fetch the Bolt Cutters finds the artist taking aim at the outside world as much as it pulls her introverted qualities further into focus, presenting itself as a biting indictment of modern society as much as a self-reflection on her own life and career. “Kick me under the table all you want/ I won’t shut up,” she proclaims on ‘Under the Table’, while on the virulent ‘Relay’, she chants, “I resent you presenting your life like a propaganda brochure.” It feels like she’s singing directly at you; there’s an uncompromising fierceness to her delivery that’s unparalleled, even as it becomes totally frenetic, like at the end of opener ‘I Want You to Love Me’. While the songs here may feel structurally simple at their core, moments like the rage-filled ‘Newspaper’ serve as reminders that Apple is perfectly capable of writing nuanced portraits of dysfunctional relationships, while ‘Ladies’ showcases her ability to appear both light-hearted yet sincere. There’s enough sonic variation to keep things interesting, but it’s the album’s razor-tight focus that makes it so effective. Even when Apple sounds like she’s spiralling out of control, she’s in complete command of herself and her surroundings. Fetch the Bolt Cutters isn’t a perfect album – its rough qualities are part of the appeal. But it redefines what a masterpiece can sound like, and for that, it deserves all the recognition that’s come its way.
Following her promising 2017 EP RINA, Rina Sawayama comes through with a bold and ambitious debut that places her at the forefront of this exciting new era of pop. SAWAYAMA combines the now-refreshing maximalism of early 2000s pop and rock and fleshes it out with some more detailed, left-field production courtesy of co-producer Clarence Clarity, resulting in one of the most daring pop albums of the year so far. Much like Poppy and Grimes did with their latest records, Sawayama pulls from genres that seemed not just disparate but diametrically opposed two decades ago – from bubblegum to nu-metal – and mashes them together, all while staying true to her own character. Opener ‘Dynasty’ explores intergenerational pain with epic, glossy production that references the stylings of Evanescence, while ‘STFU!’ is the most obvious – and impressive – take on nu-metal that repurposes the genre’s aggression to make a statement against casual racism. The singer then goes on to deliver a slick, Britney-inspired cut about gender tropes and toxic masculinity (‘Comme des Garçons (Like the Boys)’), a sincere self-esteem anthem that opens with a signature catchphrase from RuPaul’s Drag Race (‘Love Me 4 Me’), a love letter to her home country that takes its cues from Emotion-era Carly Rae Jepsen (‘Tokyo Love Hotel’), a heartfelt ballad about broken friendships (‘Bad Friend’), and a moving anthem about togetherness in the LGBT community (‘Chosen Family’). And somehow, it all comes together perfectly; there’s a sense of full-hearted commitment even to the most ironic tracks here, and nothing comes off as mere pastiche. It’s in the title – this is all Rina Sawayama.
“Joy not fear,” Elison 404 chant on opener ‘Perfect Dark’ amidst haunting synths and ethereal vocals, perfectly setting up the mood that runs through Pebbledash – melancholic yet hopeful. A subsidiary of the South-London collective 404 Guild, Sonny and Eliot of Elison 404 stray slightly from the abrasive, hard-hitting stylings of the collective’s 2019 EPs to embrace a more meditative, dreamy sound in the wake of the tragic loss of founding member Mina aka Silvertongue. On Pebbledash, they showcase their diverse range of influences, from lo-fi to hip-hop to garage, gliding effortlessly from one track to the next. Highlight ‘Chip Pan’ beautifully employs a eurodance beat to accompany the song’s otherwise introspective atmosphere, while tracks like ‘Skannerz’ and ‘F1 Motel’ combine modern hip-hop production with nods to the experimental UK electronic scene (especially the GLOO collective) to embody the all-encompassing sense of anxiety that comes through in the lyrics. What holds it all together is the vulnerability that permeates throughout the record, whether it’s on the evocative yet catchy ‘Harvest Assembly’ or the languid ‘Feeling of Presence’, which includes the poignant line, “fools rush in where angels fear to tread”. Amidst chaos and uncertainty, Elison 404 find hope in togetherness: “seeking a better tomorrow, together” a computerized voice says at the end of ‘PS2’, a highlight in the tracklist that features fellow Dirty Hit signee Gia Ford’s soulful vocals while dynamically blending the different elements that make up Elison 404’s sound. Pebbledash is a mesmerizing debut from an outfit that’s certainly got a lot more in store for us in the future.
