Throughout the week, we update our Best New Songs playlist with the new releases that caught our attention the most, be it a single leading up to the release of an album or a newly unveiled deep cut. And each Monday, we round up the best new songs released over the past week (the eligibility period begins on Monday and ends Sunday night) in this segment.
On this week’s list, we have a new track from Montreal-based singer-songwriter Ada Lea, the achingly understated yet direct ‘hurt’; Molly Payton’s first single of 2021, the anthemic and emotive ‘Honey’, which once again showcases the London-based artist’s powerful vocal delivery; Low’s spectral new single ‘Days Like These’, which is striking and impactful at every turn; Faye Webster’s horn-backed ‘A Dream With a Baseball Player’, about her teenage crush on Atlanta Braves player Ronald Acuña Jr.; the pounding and dynamic debut single from Brooklyn five-piece Geese, ‘Disco’; beabadoobee’s ‘Cologne’, a groovy and surprisingly explosive highlight from her new the 1975-produced EP; Colleen Green’s playfully sincere ‘I Wanna Be a Dog’; and Half Waif’s ‘Horse Racing’, yet another stunning preview from her upcoming LP Mythopoetics.
Olivia Rodrigo announced her upcoming Sour PromConcert Film with new promotional photos showing her wearing a prom dress and tiara while holding a bouquet of flowers with tears streaming down her face. On Thursday (June 24), Courtney Love posted the artwork on Instagram with the caption “Spot the Difference! #twinning,” noting its similarities to the cover artwork for Hole’s 1994 album Live Through This. (As Stereogum points out, a viral Twitter thread had previously accused Rodrigo of copying her visual aesthetic from Mia Berrin’s project Pom Pom Squad.)
Rodrigo herself acknowledged the similarities in her comment, writing, “love u and live through this sooooo much.” Love responded: “Olivia – you’re welcome. My favorite florist is in Notting Hill, London! Dm me for deets! I look forward to reading your note!”
Love also posted the photo on Facebook, where she responded to fans in the comments over the weekend, offering more of her thoughts on Rodrigo’s artwork. “it was rude of her, and [Rodrigo’s label] geffen not to ask myself or [Live Through This cover photographer] Ellen von unwerth,” Love wrote. “It’s happened my whole career so I d c. But manners is manners!”
In another reply, she added: “Stealing an original idea and not asking permission is rude. There’s no way to be elegant about it. I’m not angry. It happens all the time to me. But this was bad form. That’s not bullying or bomb throwing. This persons music has nothing to do with my life. Possibly never will. It was rude And I gave every right to stick up for my work. Don’t gatekeep me! I’m honorable as fuck to my fellow artists, and I expect the same.”
“I’ve informed her I await her flowers and note,” Love wrote in another comment thread. “I sure hope it’s long. Does Disney teach kids reading and writing? God knows. Let’s see. Yes this is rude. Rage inducing? Honey if I had a dollar for everyone this happens? I’d be real rich!”
Influential trumpeter, composer, and avant-garde musician Jon Hassel has died at age 84. “After a little more than a year of fighting through health complications, Jon died peacefully in the early morning hours of natural causes,” his family wrote in a statement on Facebook. “His final days were surrounded by family and loved ones who celebrated with him the lifetime of contributions he gave to this world – personally and professionally. He cherished life and leaving this world was a struggle as there was much more he wished to share in music, philosophy, and writing.”
A GoFundMe had previously been started by longtime friend and collaborator Brian Eno in April 2020 to raise funds for Hassell’s “long-term health issues.” His family added that all further donations will “allow the tremendous personal archive of his music, much unreleased, to be preserved and shared with the world for years to come,” continuing: “We also hope to provide philanthropic gifts of scholarship and contributions to issues close to Jon’s heart, like supporting the working rights of musicians.”
Born in Memphis in 1937, Hassell studied at the Eastman School of Music at the University of Rochester before moving to Cologne to study under Karlheinz Stockhausen. (Among his classmates were Irmin Schmidt and Holger Czukay, who would go on to found the group CAN.) After returning to the US in the 1960s, he took on a fellowship at SUNY Buffalo’s Center for Creative and Performing Arts, where he met American minimalist composer Terry Riley.
Hassell’s debut album, 1978’s Vernal Equinox, was the first to propose his vision of what came to be recognized as his “Fourth World” aesthetic, which he later described as “a unified primitive/futuristic sound combining features of world ethnic styles with advanced electronic techniques,” and later as “metaclassical and metapop.”
Vernal Equinox caught the attention of Brian Eno, who Hassell collaborated with on the 1980 album Possible Musics/Fourth World Vol. 1. That decade, he also collaborated with artists including Peter Gabriel, Talking Heads, David Sylvian, and Tears for Fears, and delved deeper into his “Fourth World” concept. In the 90s, he worked with artists such as k.d. lang, Ani DiFranco, and Ry Cooder, with who he continued to collaborate well into the next decade. He also founded the record label Ndeya, an imprint of Warp Records. His last studio album was 2020’s Seeing Through Sound (Pentimento Volume Two).
“As Jon is now free of a constricting body, he is liberated to be in his musical soul and will continue to play in the fourth world,” his family wrote. “We hope you find solace in his words and dreams for this earthly place he now leaves behind. We hold him, and you, in this loss and grief.”
Peter Zinovieff, the British composer and hugely influential synthesizer pioneer who co-founded the early electronic music company Electronic Music Studios (EMS), has died at the age of 88. As The Guardian reports, Zinovieff had suffered a fall at home earlier this month and had been in hospital for 10 days.
Zinovieff was born in London in 1933 and attended Oxford University, where he studied geology and dabbled in experimental music before pursuing his hobby professionally. In the 1960s, together with Delia Derbyshire and Brian Hodgson of the Radiophonic Workshop, he was part of Unit Delta Plus, a collective creating and promoting electronic music. He began developing synthesizers and founded EMS in 1969 with Tristram Cary and David Cockerell. The company was behind instruments such as the VCS3, Synthi 100, and Synthi AKS, which were used on records by numerous prominent electronic and rock artists including Pink Floyd, Kraftwerk, David Bowie, King Crimson, The Who, Brian Eno, composer Karlheinz Stockhausen, and many others. EMS went bankrupt in 1979 before being revived by former employee Robin Wood.
Zinovieff spent the 1980s and 90s mostly away from music, working in graphic design and teaching. He returned to composition in 2010 and would go on to collaborate with artists including violinist Aisha Orazbayeva, cellist Lucy Railton, and poet Katrina Porteous. A retrospective collection covering Zinovieff’s work during the EMS era titled Electronic Calendar was compiled by musician Pete Kember and issued in 2015. That same year, he was awarded an honorary Doctor of Music degree by Anglia Ruskin University.
With a heavy heart, I am sorry to confirm the death on Wednesday evening of Peter Zinovieff, composer, founder of EMS, and pioneer of computer music in the UK. He was 88, and had been in hospital for 10 days following a fall at his home. pic.twitter.com/pS10HkyM2x
Why have sports betting become so trendy nowadays? Generally, it has an ancient history rooted from the times people started watching sports. However, online sportsbooks made things more accessible and exciting. People can find tons of rewards and bonuses on virtual platforms, placing winning bets to boost their finances. Besides, betting sites are very convenient, getting people rid of traveling anywhere. There is no need to sit around in a bar worrying about a TV’s viewing angle, picture quality, etc. Instead, the massive online betting market available worldwide won’t allow you to miss a chance. So, it looks really lucrative for all sports fans.
What Does In-Play Sports Betting Mean?
Progress does not stand still, and most bookies have already understood and accepted this fact by providing live sports betting on their sites. Now, one can bet on a particular event and watch it simultaneously. What about advantages?
In-running betting covers various aspects of matches or tournaments.
No need to study too many stats since you should consider the current moment.
It’s possible to catch the best possible odds before a bookie changes them.
In-play betting is a perfect way to blow off steam and get incredible excitement.
However, one of the most beautiful things is that you can reconsider during an event. You rely on your reaction and responsiveness rather than dubious predictions and occasional tips.
Range of Sports Bets: Your Prospective Opportunities
Those not into live-action may switch to traditional fixed odds sports betting when two parties agree to deal with fixed odds regardless of what will happen in the field. Modern gambling platforms provide various types of bets based on fixed odds. They allow people to wager on games in different ways. For example, straight bets are basic and most popular for football and basketball. It means that a favorite should win the game to make your bet a lucky one. Punters also often use total and money line bets. It’s also possible to jump into parlay bets and group together a couple or more picks into a parlay.
Those seeking mixed pleasure from playing slots and sports betting can try to bet on virtual sports games. The types of bets are the same as for real sports competitions, but an RNG prejudges the match’s outcome.
If you still hesitate about what to choose, just try everything. The BetSofa sports betting site offers tons of options for in-play and fix-odd markets. You’ll enjoy a wide range of events on a safe and legit platform with attractive odds and fast payouts.
RZA has released a new song, ‘Saturday Afternoon Kung Fu Theater’, in which he raps against his alter ego Bobby Digital. The track is taken from his forthcoming album RZA Vs. Bobby Digital, out August 6. Check it out below.
‘Saturday Afternoon Kung Fu Theater’ was produced by DJ Scratch, who also executive produced the new LP. “Lyrically the hip-hop part of me had a chance to re-emerge during quarantine,” RZA said in a statement. “Giving Scratch the reins as a producer and me taking the reins as an MC, that’s what frees me up creatively and lets me play more with lyrical gags and lyrical flows because I don’t have to be focused on everything. He (Scratch) delivered tracks that resonated and brought me back to a sound that I felt was missing. For me it was really natural for me to flow and write to these songs.”
Earlier this year, RZA returned with his first new song under the Bobby Digital moniker in 13 years, ‘Pugilism’. According to a new press release, that single will appear on “another solo project also scheduled for a 2021 release.”
Willow Smith, known mononymously as Willow, has confirmed the release date of her new album lately i feel EVERTHING. It’s out July 16 on MSFTSMusic/Roc Nation (via Polydor in the UK), and the new single ‘Lipstick’ is out now. Listen to it below and scroll down for the LP’s cover artwork.
According to a press release, Willow’s new album was influenced by pop-punk artists such as Hayley Williams, Gerard Way, and Patrick Stump. “I realised that it’s not my voice that can’t sing this kind of music,” she said. “I was afraid to sing this kind of music because I wasn’t sure what people would think.”
Willow previously shared the album’s opening track, ‘t r a n s p a r e n t s o u l‘, a collaboration with Blink-182 drummer Travis Barker. lately i feel EVERYTHING also features Avril Lavigne, another artist Willow cites as a major inspiration. “I thought this was a really dope outlet for a new energy I wanted to bring to my music,” she added.
Pom Pom Squad is the project led by Orlando-raised singer-songwriter Mia Berrin, who started using the moniker in high school at age fifteen. Now a four-piece featuring bassist Maria Alé Figeman, drummer Shelby Keller, and guitarist Alex Mercuri, the Brooklyn-based band have today released their debut full-length album, Death of a Cheerleader, following two riveting EPs, 2017’s Hate It Here and 2019’s Ow. Co-produced by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, the record is Pom Pom Squad’s most dynamic and fully-realized effort to date, anchoring in and amplifying the vulnerability that marked Berrin’s previous efforts while pushing beyond it. Oscillating between nostalgic pop, lush orchestral arrangements, and unrelenting punk abrasion, the album evokes the chaotic thrill, endless frustration, and pure joy that comes with figuring out your identity, celebrating Berrin’s queerness in the process. Its cinematic scope has various reference points – Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides directly fuels highlight ‘Lux’, and the director’s ethereal aesthetic permeates much of the LP – and musically Berrin is clearly influenced by a wide range of styles. Yet by subverting expectations and using those touchstones to tell her own story, Berrin has delivered a vision that’s unique both for its hypnotic charm and powerful immediacy.
We caught up with Pom Pom Squad’s Mia Berrin for this edition of our Artist Spotlight interview series to talk about watching The Virgin Suicides for the first time, the inspirations behind Death of a Cheerleader, and more.
What do you remember about the first time you watched The Virgin Suicides?
The first time I watched The Virgin Suicides was in high school, and the first time I watched it I actually did not get it. I didn’t really understand it, and I don’t think I liked it as my initial reaction. I feel like a lot of my favorite pieces of art ever, a lot of them I don’t understand the first time either, but it was just so pervasive and it really entered my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to watch it again to get answers to these questions. And I think in a way that’s also the nature of the story, too; it’s a story about these boys who never know the truth about these girls they are so infatuated with. You know, I related to the sisters, and I think as I started to connect with them on the premise of being a young woman and the isolation that I felt, I just really fell in love with that story and it’s stuck with me for most of my life.
What kind of questions were you trying to unpack?
Initially, when I was looking at it on the surface level, I don’t and I didn’t fit into – when I was in high school, it was kind of pre-Kardashians and pre-people who look like me being considered attractive. My whole life I grew up really thinking I was ugly, you know, and being told I was ugly and attractive. I think in a way I felt envy for these girls being attractive enough to even maintain anybody’s attention, and I think there’s a jealousy there, and a resentment that I felt. This whole movie had been glamorized by so many of the white people around me.
But I think what struck me and stuck with me was, one, just aesthetically it’s so beautiful and the imagery is really striking, and then, I’ve experienced depression since I was pretty young, but especially in high school it got pretty serious – it was my first time really grappling with mental illness in that way. And I think I wanted to understand why they behaved the way that they did, and when I finally came to that reckoning myself, I started to relate to it more and understand it better.
Partly what struck me about the way you talked about the film in a statement for the song ‘Lux’, and that I think a lot of people miss, is how it captures this fear of male attention, and how the glamorization and idealization of these girls is really what contributes to their oppressive environment. When you revisit these kind of formative coming-of-age films now, what feelings do they elicit?
I think with a movie like The Virgin Suicides, I’ve shown showed it to all the important people in my life who haven’t seen it, and it kind of has become a litmus test of who’s going to stick around. I think I’ve showed it to all of exes, and my partner currently is the only person who has liked the movie. [laughs] All my exes didn’t understand it.
I feel a sense of nostalgia. In a way, I feel like I still draw on all the same influences I did when I was a teenager. I think there’s a part of me that really discovered something during that time that has affected so much of who I became and am becoming. So I feel grateful to have had those resources and those experiences; the experience of discovering these art forms and these pieces on my own. I also feel kind of wistful sometimes, knowing that the longer I’m alive, it’s always going to be different when I come back to the things that I love.
‘Lux’ is one of the first songs you wrote when you were around 17. How much have the lyrics changed, and what do you remember about writing it?
Actually, the lyrics didn’t change at all, they’re exactly the same. So they’re really the most pure, distilled, teenage me song that I think I have at all. I published a couple songs on Bandcamp when I was a teenager, but ‘Lux’ is the one that really stuck around and grew with me. I do remember it was one of the first times I knew that songwriting was like a craft. It taught me that songwriting is something that you have to do actively, you know, like I remember starting to write that song and really sitting down and working on it and working through it, really bringing it into shape. Before I started writing songs I journaled literally every day – I had almost like an obsessive fixation on journaling, and this whole idea that if I didn’t write things down exactly as they were I’d forget them forever, and then life would be a sham or some kind of ridiculous idea. But it really was the catalyst for me becoming a songwriter, because songwriting is essentially just really being able to crystallize feelings and emotions into something palatable and consumable and shareable.
And ‘Lux’ took work; I knew that I wanted to write a song, I knew I wanted to write a song about The Virgin Suicides, I knew that I wanted to write a song that reflected the experiences that I was having around that time – you know, my early experiences of sexuality. It took work, and it was really exciting to come out on the other side of that and know that I had created something. Like, it didn’t just fall out of me, it was an ability that I had.
What was it like revisiting the song for the album, and also recreating shots from the film for the music video?
I think the thing about ‘Lux’ as a song is it’s been a pretty constant force in my life, in a way. I wrote it at 17, I released it when I was 18, I started playing it live when I was 19, and never really stopped since. It’s taken on a couple different forms ever since the first show that I played as Pom Pom Squad. As I’ve grown and as the band has grown it’s changed in little ways, parts have been added and parts have been taken away, but the lyrics and the melody have stayed the same, and the heart of it has stayed the same. I think at a certain point you sing a song enough that it becomes part of your body. It’s not so much an experience anymore – it’s not that I don’t get emotional when I sing it, but it’s kind of like those emotions just live in me now, you know what I mean? It’s not like I have to recreate that feeling; it’s like you’ve practiced something enough and it’s just innate.
Recreating shots for the music video, that was another thing that, ever since I wrote the song, I knew that I wanted to do a Virgin Suicides tribute video. It was very vulnerable; it was more vulnerable than I expected. Putting myself literally inside one of my favorite pieces of art, comparing myself to it, in a way. Touching back on myself as a person of color sort of having only white role models portray the things that I felt, there is a part of me that was like, “I can never be as beautiful,” or, “It can never be as good, putting myself in it, as it would be with a smaller, prettier, whiter face.” So it’s very, very vulnerable, and I was hyper-specific about what I wanted and how I wanted the shots to look and how I wanted it to feel. I really wanted it to maintain a feeling of aesthetic beauty and softness and honor for these young women and for myself as well. I’m proud that I could get through that mental block enough to make it happen.
I think it definitely succeeds in doing that. To get to another track on the album, your cover of ‘Crimson & Clover’ – the original is something I actually feel like would neatly fit in The Virgin Suicides as something that would represent the point of view of the male narrators obsessing over the girls. But in your rendition, there’s almost a subversive element to it. What was the reason for including the cover?
The thing I love about the original is just how creepy it is. It’s so unintentionally creepy and strange, and the sonic palette of it is just bizarre. I’ve always loved the original, and my partner really turned me on to Joan Jett’s cover of it, and I think having this combination of, you know, sort of borrowing from the queerness of Joan Jett’s version of it and infusing it with that kind of David Lynch-y, creepy saccharine aesthetic could evoke. I kept coming back to that song in a time in my life where I was learning a lot about my sexuality and about love as I was kind of going through my second adolescence.
The album as a whole expands musically on your previous EPs, but also there’s also a musical and conceptual shift into something more cinematic and theatrical – you mentioned David Lynch, and obviously, there’s the Sofia Coppola connection. Why did you want those elements to be more prominent on Death of a Cheerleader?
That’s a good question. I’ve always been attracted to arrangements like that; I think of some of my childhood interests in the Beatles and Motown and singer-songwriter tracks and Smiths. You know, things that really had an emotional core, some extremely minimalist and some extremely maximalist. I’ve always loved orchestral arrangements, but it never felt like something that fit in with rock music or grunge music. And I think also being a self-taught musician, it didn’t seem achievable for me to be able to write or create something like that, so it almost just never came to mind. But when we recorded violin for a couple songs on our Ow, that opened me up to the possibility a little bit more. And I think quarantine, being home, sort of pushed it over the edge, in that I wanted to escape from my reality. And listening to Motown and listening to The Beatles and returning to the sounds from when I was a kid, those arrangements feel like they couldn’t ever take place in a room, like they’re not grounded in reality.
And being in quarantine and not being able to see my bandmates and really having myself and my laptop and guitar as my only resources for songwriting, I was just playing around with software instruments and other sounds that I can incorporate into what I do. I didn’t have to think about it in terms of like, “How would this work in a live show?” or “Would we be able to play this to a crowd?” I really just got to explore this world away from my world.
And I was telling a love story, in a way, with this record. And that emotion feels so… I think anger feels very down to earth, it feels very grounded, it feels very immediate. And love just sits in such a different place. And coming at this record from a place of love, even in the angrier songs – love for teenage myself on a song like ‘Lux’, love for people that I was talking about on other songs – it just took me to a different place musically.
I was reading an interview where you were talking about the previous EPs being kind of falsely perceived as diaristic, and how that was a reductive assessment. Was the shift to something more cinematic also a conscious move away from that perception, not just musically, but also conceptually and lyrically?
It’s funny, because I’ve been reflecting on my resentment on being called a diarist lately, and I think that resentment came mostly from feeling belittled as a young woman doing this. And feeling like when people were telling me like, “Oh, it sounds like it’s pulled from your diary,” it often is used to mean, “This isn’t a skill.” I think there’s a way that women are written about in music that really frustrates me, which is like, “Men craft things.” I remember reading this article about a musician and it was like, “He crafts a brilliant narrative based on stories from his own life.” And when it’s a woman, it’s always like, “She is an emotionally distressed songstress.” It’s like, she is versus she makes. And I wanted people to know that songwriting is effortful and it’s an action, and I felt like I was being talked about like this little girl who’s shooting from the hip and it just so happens that I wrote a couple of good songs. I really wanted to establish myself – you know, I studied production, engineering, musicianship, and music history, and I really think a lot about what I do and what it means. And of course it’s personal; I think I became a skilled lyricist because of my journaling and diary writing growing up. But I think I wanted – maybe the difference here, I’m kind of realizing talking to you now, is exploring myself lyrically in a personal way, not shielded but uplifted by bigger production and more technical skillset, felt like a way to really show people what I’m made of, and also show myself what I’m made of and prove to myself the things that I’ve kind of been encouraged to doubt about myself.
So lyrically, it feels like I’m in the same place as Ow in terms of what it means and where it lives with me emotionally. It was just exciting to push that to the fullest extent that it can go.
In a statement about ‘Crying’, you talked about how part of making this album was realizing that no amount of songwriting can replace therapy when it comes to dealing with depression. Having come to that realization, what is it that you feel like you do ultimately get from making music?
I think songwriting isn’t a substitute, but if I didn’t have it, I don’t know how I would process my life. I think part of being a creative person is [having] an internal instinct, and the second part of it is acting on it that instinct. It’s always felt like an extension of myself and a part of myself… [pauses] Let me think. What do I get out of it? I mean, I think it teaches me something. If I go into a song knowing what it’s gonna mean to other people, knowing what it’s gonna mean to me, then I wouldn’t have a reason to write. Writing for me is the process of exploring, and I’ve learned so much about myself in the creation of this project that I don’t know if would have had the bravery or the autonomy to give myself otherwise.
In a few words, what do you feel this project has taught you?
I think the lesson of my first EP was to learn how to be autonomous, to learn how to take care of myself. I think the lesson of Ow was to learn how to have confidence in and respect myself. And I think the lesson of Death of a Cheerleader is to enjoy and express myself, really live fully in my own life and be present.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
Most exhibitions look effortless, but you shouldn’t fall for the trick. Putting together an art exhibit takes work and effort. However, with the right ideas, you can make it a success. For many upcoming artists, having your art exhibition is the dream. But even for established artists, it’s an opportunity to showcase your best work. It’s crucial to know what you are hoping to gain from the exhibition. Once you do, these are a few ideas to help you set up your big day.
Pick the Best Venue
Space is critical in an art exhibit. You need enough room for your display boards and artwork. It also needs to accommodate all your expected guests. You should consider how you will mount your art pieces and if the venue fits your purpose and style. Cost is also a factor when picking a venue for the exhibition. Different venues expose your work to different types of people. Think about the kind of audience the location will attract before making a decision. If your target audience is other artists, students, collectors or professionals, the venue has to help you get them.
When choosing the best venue, consider your art’s niche or theme. For instance, if you’re into contemporary art, you can make the most of your art exhibit by choosing a contemporary fine art gallery situated in major cities. Check out https://www.eden-gallery.com/gallery/vegas-wynn.
What Is Your Theme?
If you want the best experience for your viewers, you need to develop a theme. The pieces on display should have a relationship. Your art event will be so much better if you can tell a story through the pieces to capture the audience. Displaying random unrelated artwork may rob you of the credit and commendation you deserve. When it’s a group exhibition, the artists need to agree on a dynamic and unique theme for the show to be a success. The theme also needs to be flexible to allow all the artists to express themselves.
Market and Promote Your Exhibition
Spread the word about your upcoming event. Reaching as many people as possible will affect your turnout. Make the most of your social media and circulate details about your art display event. You can even tease the public with a picture of what they can expect to see when they come. Create an event page where you will keep them updated. If you are well prepared, promoting the event will be a breeze; you might even enjoy coming up with marketing ideas. Sometimes paid advertising can do the trick; it helps reach people that were not on your radar.
Get the Art Work Exhibition Ready
Give the art pieces final touches to get them ready for the big day. Tidy up edges and figure out if you need frames and other related things. Ensure the canvas has not sagged in other places. If they need mirror plates to keep them safe, ensure you get them before the opening. Everything should be ready on the day of the event, and all the artwork should be mounted. Last-minute touches can make a big difference and help you identify minor mistakes. Original artwork is limited edition; you might need a certificate of authenticity if someone wants to acquire one.
Conclusion
It’s no secret that exhibiting artwork has its challenges, but you can make the most out of it with these ideas. Thevenue is significant; art exhibitions should attract people, starting with the locals. When working towards your next art exhibit, consider the efforts you are putting into promoting the event. Preparation is key to a successful event.
It was about as fortuitous as it can be for Canadian singer-songwriter JP Saxe to release his breakout single, ‘If the World Was Ending’, a matter of months before a global pandemic. In the music video, he clutches fellow artist Julia Michaels while sirens drone in the distance. “If the world was ending, you’d come over,” Saxe implores, with desperation and tenderness synthesised into the single syllable of the word “Right?”. It seems catastrophe leaves no time for hesitation, forcing a unique kind of directness. And yet emerging from what many would deem a real-life apocalypse, in his debut album Dangerous Levels of Introspection Saxe abandons the urgency with which he dealt so prophetically. This time, he is preoccupied with gathering exactly the right words.
The album opens, however, with explicit contradiction. Amid a growling drum beat and bursts of jazzy piano melodies, Saxe declares, “I just want to hold you/ It doesn’t have to mean anything,” before reasoning: “I don’t think that it can not mean anything.” His lyrics are built on these small incongruities which merge and shift with the force of his unrelenting self-analysis. He betrays a rigid devotion to truthfulness, even if there is little order to be found among his utterances. Moments of clarity, then, blaze all the brighter when able to surface: “You’re the first thing I don’t second guess,” Saxe announces triumphantly in early single ‘Like That’, spurred on by layers of acoustic guitar and increasingly energetic drums.
For an artist so captivated by language, it is unsurprising that Saxe places extraordinary weight on the power of a connection figured specifically in verbal terms. “Gonna need you to explain exactly everything those eyes mean,” he sings in ‘More of You’, before proclaiming, in a delightful second of drumless temerity that is the sonic figuration of a leap of faith: “Nevermind/ Surprise me.” Where at times his craving for accuracy ironically topples into inconsistency, his profundity still glitters. “I probably love you, but it freaks me out sayin’ it,” he confesses in the same track, “This feels too different to have the same name for it.” He might not have all the answers, but he is eloquent even in his uncertainty.
The record’s probing examination of expression is tugged along further by twanging guitar riffs in ‘Here’s Hopin’. “When somebody asks you/ Do you think it’s really over/ Do you say it is?” Saxe wonders. “Do you think it is?” To be so fixated on aligning his feelings with the correct definitions is, it seems, both empowering and exhausting, but Saxe’s capacity for reflection appears limitless. Contemplating a surrender to the numbness of heartbreak, he admits, “Getting over you just feels like one last way that I’ve got left to lose you,” and this is perhaps why the record tunnels so deeply into the past. The pleasant ache of nostalgia is tangible in nearly every song, though lyrically it is most explicit on the title track: “I don’t want any of it back,” Saxe insists, “But I miss how it felt/ It happened so fast, I kinda miss myself.” The harmony-drenched grandeur of the singles is often suspended to prioritise simple guitar backing and create a charming, emotive pop feel. Even Saxe’s angrier monologues usually open with uncomplicated instrumentals which pivot into cacophony. ‘Tension’ chronicles the tail end of a relationship by way of taut vocals and drums that repeatedly gather and recede, shaping a series of false endings that reenact the pain of moving forward.
Yet the frenzy falls away into Saxe’s familiar territory of jazzy keys, spilling over into ‘What Keeps Me From It’, a ballad that tackles similar subject matter with gentleness rather than fury. It is in this track that Saxe’s storytelling really shines. “It’s unlikely there is a version of this/ That’s not gonna tear me apart,” he muses, striking a perfect balance between bluntness and poeticism. With murmured vocals and pirouetting piano melodies, it is as if Saxe is wandering through the ruins of a relationship as the walls crumble gracefully around him. “Maybe you’re not love anymore,” he decides, “Maybe you remind me of it.” There emerges a hint of wonder that comes with coaxing beauty from something broken.
Nowhere is this clearer than in the album’s final offering, ‘Sing Myself to Sleep’. Written as a tribute to Saxe’s mother, who recently passed away, the track sees him gather up his powers of rumination to create a lullaby laden with sadness. “I’m okay, but that’s not the point/ And either way, I’m still your boy,” he sings, and the track unfolds in the negative space created by loss, blossoming into an unlikely source of light in the black hole of bereavement. With heartbreakingly tender falsetto held aloft by celestial harmonies, Saxe’s grief is palpable. Yet he seems to have finally found a way to express the incommunicable. His musings may not always be perfectly coherent, but they are undeniably earnest, and though apparently perilous, his introspection has certainly not gone to waste in this debut.
