The 2020 Album Rundown: #15-11
In our previous installment of the 2020 Album Rundown, we covered electronica of four different shades, with a splash of sultry girl pop for good measure. Today, we’ve got a bit more territory to cover, with a triumphant metal return, wistful and brooding singer-songwriters, and…whatever words you can use to describe Album #14.
Let’s dig in.
Phantogram, Ceremony
Ceremony opens with the faded crooning, “What would I do, in a world without you?” It feels like a slightly on-the-nose encapsulation of the feeling that underscores much of the album, a wistful barrage of dark electropop that speaks to lost love, the realizations of an unraveling psyche, and depressive episodes.
The production is crisp, letting Sarah Barthel’s vocals sail in and out of walls of synthesizer and guitar fuzz. It’s at times a little abrasive, with the screeching background howls in “In A Spiral” coming to mind alongside the brutal, album-closing title track. Those moments only amplify the beauty found in other parts of the album, chiefly in the moody ballad “Glowing.” “Mister Impossible,” on the other hand, sounds like it could be the opening theme to a spy thriller of the same name.
If nothing else, Ceremony reminded me both that it’s been too long since we heard from Phantogram, and also that they did a collaboration album with Big Boi back in 2015, which is every bit as wild and uneven as you’d think.
Ceremony is available pretty much everywhere but Bandcamp.
I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, Razzmatazz
What a long band name, huh? Affectionately abbreviated to iDKHOW, these two weirdos from Salt Lake City have put out a handful of singles over the last few years; the music video for “Do It All the Time” in particular is a fun time. Their efforts have culminated in the weird, edgy, pseudo-new-wave Razzmatazz, an album that feels like what Gary Numan would be making today if he’d started out today.
The synthesizers are as expansive as they are Moog-y. The lyrics are just cheeky enough to not feel like a comedy band. The drums all sound designed by machines, and vocalist Dallon Weekes has such a distinct, not-quite-whiny-but-kinda-whiny tenor that really sets him apart. Coming off of their 2018 EP, I was expecting a pretty breakneck record here, but Razzmatazz manages to keep its tempo on the slow side, with a plethora of songs you could call ballads: “Nobody Likes the Opening Band,” “From the Gallows,” and “Kiss Goodnight” are standouts, the latter in particular being a great moody heart-tug.
The title track is, like so many albums on this list, the album closer, leaving you to think iDKHOW isn’t signing off so much as they are saying, “we’ll be back soon.” A soulful saxophone solo rips in to the closing minute as the mix slowly starts to fade out in favor of static.
“There you have, that good ol’ fashioned Razzmatazz.”
Phoebe Bridgers, Punisher
An album that felt like I should’ve gotten around to it about four months before I did, Punisher is a melancholic, haunting affair. It opens with the brooding “Garden Song,” (epilepsy warning on that video!) where a deep bass voice bellows in a slight delay to Bridgers’ almost-whispery vocals, before jumping up to the almost Courtney Barnett-adjacent instrumentation of “Kyoto.” From there, she paints bleak pictures of a world that feels all too real, echoes of trauma and the desire to figure out just what in the world is going on in your head when nothing quite makes sense. The album’s closer, “I Know the End,” builds to a violent, cathartic release that took me by complete surprise the first time I heard it
To be absolutely clear, this is not a peppy album, despite a handful of relatively upbeat tracks. I think it’s something that lends itself to a very particular headspace: this is that kind of album you listen to in a desolate winter, lying in the dark with headphones on, letting it wash over you. If you’re interested in that sort of atmosphere, I think it’s remarkable.
Caroline Rose, Superstar
Caroline Rose made her Beside the Dunes debut back in 2018 with the delightful, quirky Loner, and she’s returned to these hallowed halls with Superstar, a more subdued and focused effort that serves as a bit of a concept album at the same time. It tells the story of an exaggerated Rose persona, who goes through the classic rise-and-fall of someone trying to make it in the music business. It’s not as flashy or patently “weird” as Loner, but Superstar is a really solid collection of brooding, witty songs that tells much more of a cohesive narrative than I expected.
While the music itself feels a little bit less all over the place, Rose’s lyrics are still just as clever and composed. From the jumpy lead single, “Feel The Way I Want,” to the album-closing “I Took a Ride,” she paints the ideologies and inner thoughts of the album’s character with broad strokes, managing to make her feel just relatable enough while still maintaining that air of distance that a purported “big-timer” would think they have. The more low-key nature of Superstar’s sound feels very deliberate, almost showcasing the unexpected mundanity of trying to get your big break. The character of Caroline Rose sheds her feelings, reinvents herself, and then finds her way back to where she started, perhaps a little bit wiser but more broken.
Protest the Hero, Palimpsest
The story behind the recording of Palimpsest is almost as interesting as the subject matter. Protest the Hero’s fifth proper release, coming four years after their subscription-based EP series Pacific Myth, it’s a rumination on concepts of greatness, innovation, and the downfalls of attempting to rewrite one’s history to be more favorable to a certain personage. In this case, it’s a deliberate reflection on the last four years in America. And it works, really well. Apart from some weird mixing on early tracks, Palimpsest is a return to form for the progressive metal outfit that feels like an explosive follow-up to 2013’s Volition in all the best ways.
From top to bottom, it feels like an album that acknowledges the passing of time between its release and Volition. There’s a bit of a wearied edge to the songs on display here, but it’s not a bad weariness. It feels like a refutation, in so many ways, of the idea that they’re getting too old to keep going. Singer Rody Walker went through dramatic vocal training and rehabilitation to be able to perform again, and it’s showcased time and time again, though most notably on “From the Sky.” Whatever comes next for this group, it’s heartening to know that the distance between releases hasn’t worn down their enthusiasm in the slightest.
