Album Review: Cocojoey - Cocojoey's World

I am thoroughly convinced that Chicago-based producer Cocojoey's LP Cocojoey's World is the product of a stand user. What else could explain its crazy dynamism, a tendency towards preternatural mutations, and indomitable fighting spirit? The record seems to burst, almost fully formed, like a xenomorphic tapeworm from its creator's psyche, like a beautifully twisted bassline braided from the spectral tendrils of their very soul. Sure, that may be a gruesome way of describing such a peppy collection of cyber-centripetal cerebrally-embellished electronic music. Still, it would be a shame to let go understated the visceral, gooey aura of this assortment of aural vignettes- from the opening littoral tunnel crawl of "Cocojoey's Theme" to the asteroid belt hopscotch R'nB of "Out There," the listener is drawn through the gravity and magnetism of one acid-fusion framed portal after another, encountering fully defined galactic planes and graced to witness feats on the scale of Fire-Toolz performing a Voltron like transformation sequence with Blind Equation and Frank Javcee achieving a Genocyber style, full body molting after tasting the tainted backwash in a Big Gulp they shared with BBBBBBB. In its exploration of the fringes of cybergrind and subterranean production ethos that came to fruition after the crest and consolidation of the '10s vaporwave scene, Cocojoey's World feels like such a personal and bespoke instrument of expression that to take it on its face is to more or less to plunge, cannonball-style, into the subliminal brine of its creator's cognitive soup. Again, I'm convinced it's the work of a stand- a paranormally manifest eruption of fluid sonic geometry that flows from the soul-made flesh, a feather-light psychic golem awakened via celestial intervention. Either that, or Cocojoey is just really talented and has a perfect grip on the aesthetics they are pursuing. Hear it for yourself and draw your own conclusion. You already know how I feel. 

Album Review: Samara Lubelski - Flickers at the Station

I'm trying to get back in the swing of writing about albums consistently in 2025, so I'm going to take it easy on myself and look back at an old favorite. Flickers at the Station is a 2018 album from Samara Lubelski. Samara is a multi-instrumentalist who was residing in Soho, NYC, at the time of Flickers's release (not sure where she is now- she may be rooted to the concrete of a rent-controlled brownstone, or may have drifted off over the salty sea in search of enlightenment like a fabled seabird- I'd be credulous in either scenario). Starting out as a professional violinist, she quickly transitioned to guitar, bass, and cello, and in the process, became a go-to studio musician for the likes of Thurston Moore, the Fiery Furnaces, and Body/Head’s Bill Nace, among others- but that's all flavor text- where's the main dish? Between her 1997 solo debut, In the Valley, and 2018, Samara became known for her prolific output as much as her skills as a musician capable of capturing the drift of the unknown with a sort of rapt immediacy. Flickers at the Station is her ninth LP, seeing her stick mostly to guitar and vocals to craft intricately layered, jangly, and somewhat avant-garde baroque pop with a whimsically nostalgic centripetal core. The album was recorded in the German countryside, backed by her folk popper friends and frequent collaborators, the Metabolismus, the setting bequeathed a certain pastoral wariness to the urbane ye-ye flush that ripples through the album and breaths life into the dazzling wilt of its pilot light, like a retreat into a thalassic pool of nameless earthen shapes, whose overlapping embrace and comingling patterns inseminate the synapses with variegated parturition of offspring who speak in a language of life beyond mere sensory intuition. Don't be remiss; that flickering in the distance is your stop- an egress point into a cenote of contemplative configurations that you'll know before you endure and endure like a ray of sunshine coursing down your crown. 

Pull up a chair and have yourself a listen- Drawing Room Records.

Album Review: JER - BOTHERED / UNBOTHERED

I'm hesitant to share my appreciation for ska on this blog. This is partly because I don't listen to as much of it as I used to, but also... I'm sort of gun-shy about it. Back in high school, I committed the terrible, unforced error of mentioning to the guy who ran the local record store in my "quaint" little hometown that I may have enjoyed going to see a semi-local ska band by the name of The Invaders, and that I've been known to appreciate a Reel Big Fish record from time to time... he took it like I had kicked his dog. Having evidently outed myself as a poser and having revealed my character to have been deeply flawed, he proceeded to debate me on the merits of ska and how liking it made me a pariah every time I entered his store (which was often, because I was a music lover even then, and my town only had one f*ing record store >.<). As you might expect, this was a debate I always lost- it was his store and the outcome of our conversation was predetermined. After all, it was his world- I just exchanged currency for goods in it, and the only rule in that ratty little fiefdom of his was that "ska sucks," and I would do best not to forget it. Needless to say, I don't talk much about ska anymore. Actually, it seems like most people don't. Ska doesn't have the purchase or visibility that it once did in popular culture (the reasons for which will not be speculated upon here, but I have my theories*). Those who do keep the genre alive like Kill Lincoln and Catbite, sort of do so in the shadow and sustaining influence of Jeff Rosenstock, whose run with Bomb the Music Industry, as well as the echo imprint it has on his solo work, has had a profound impact on the sounds of the current underground to such a pervasive extent that it nearly impossible to quantify. Speaking of Jeff's contributions- he has a habit of being a guest musician on a lot of record by artists who count him as one of their influences- including ska artists... Artists like Jeremy Hunter, or Jer for short. Known alternatively as Skatune Network, Jer made a name for themselves, didactically exploring and proclaiming the gospel of two-tone to a young and curious audience of budding music aficionados over on their YouTube channel. Inevitably, their love of the genre and clear demonstration of ability (their channel 70% ska covers and they are all rock solid) would result in a record 2022's Bothered/Unbothered. It's a phenomenal LP, just indisputably, from the polish of its songwriting to the bounce of its grooves, tied off with catchy hooks, memorable lyrics, and of course, bossy bad-ass brass sections- and it's been rightly and admiringly praised by a number of outlets that normally don't cover ska, let alone have very nice things to say about it.** And you know, beyond just being a great ska record, I like to think it helped to break down some of the build-up of apprehension around the genre that's accumulated over the years. Like I admitted early, even casually enjoying a skankable beat or an upstroke guitar chord within the last two decades could single you out for ridicule in many music circles, and it's really refreshing to see a record so unabashedly embrace a style with the confidence and conviction that the love that is put into it will be contagious to the listener, regardless of whether or not they are primed to accept. There is, of course, a lot more to the record, sonically and thematically, other than simply the love of the game, so to speak, as Bothered/Unbothered also deals with some pretty stark and indisputable realities concerning justice and representation for people of color in a place as unequal as the United States, and drills down deep with its criticisms, not sparing primarily white cultural spaces- like most punk scenes- in its exacting assessments. But as real and heavy as things can get, the strength of the infectious joy that runs riot through this dancehall crashing cascade of a release never lets the bastards grind Jer or the vibe of the record down. It's why Bothered/Unbothered is such a perfect name for this LP- because even though the whole damn world seems (and often is) conspiring to gang up on you, survival means dodging and rolling through the punches until you're in a position to do something about it. The world is a wild place right now, and it's only going to get wilder, and you have to do what you can to cut through the gatling pulse of blows headed your way. Because the least of my or anyone's worries at the moment is someone trying to take a piss on you because of the music you like- there are bigger issues at play, and if the least you can do is accept yourself and be unbothered by others unsolicited appraisals of you and what feels right to yourself, then that's just the first big step you have to take in proving your inner truth to the world. I feel like that's the story of ska right now, a sliver of insight into this record and the formidable storm of clout Jer has been able to amass around it, as well as just being an essential lesson in life during trying times. When you can't do anything else, at least make art that brings you and others like you joy***... When you can do more, you can do that as well, and then you just keep kicking ass until you're sick of kicking so much ass. That's the best and only way you prove the haters wrong and put them in their place.    

Out on Bad Time Records (most misleading name ever).

*Ok ok, I'll give you a little taste. I think it's, in part, a practical thing- Ska bands usually have more members than regular punk bands, and it's not as easy to organize people as it used to be- despite everyone having a node of an interconnected social/cyber web in their back pocket. People just have less free time and more distractions available to them than they did in, say, the '90s... that and at some point in the early '00s people decided that having fun was lame and they'd rather sit alone in a basement and weep quietly to themselves while updating their LiveJournals. 

** Pitchfork, Needle Drop, etc... all the usual harbingers of the decline of civilization as we know it. 

*** Me, I write a blog. Some people like it. You, probably have some real talent. Don't let it go to waste.

Interview: Deludium Skies

Now I'm not an expert in geology or ecologist, but I'm fairly certain that there are no deserts in Austria. I get my confidence in this claim coming from a country that has a lot of dusty planes within its borders. So I'm pretty impressed that a guy like Karl, an Austrian guitarist whose project Deludium Skies has developed from a simple droning tonal experiment, into a hauntingly doom-laden descent, can capture the essence of those endless empty steppes and vast overbearing sheets of sky of my homeland in a way that kind of makes you feel like you're on an empty highway, driving endlessly, cutting through a looming nothingness and overcome by its enormity and the boundless breadth. His guitar work has a crushing softness to it that resembles the incremental weight of a thousand grains of sand gradually pooling over your feet and between your knees- immobilizing in its casual accumulation of presence and patient-fated tumble. It's not the kind of blues you'd hear in a Tennessee gin joint- more like the kind someone might coax out of the dark as they watch said watering hole burn to the ground from the vantage of a seedy hotel. There may be something that only someone on the outside of this house of tinder and yellowing playing cards we call a country that can only truly be captured from a distance... I needed to know, so I asked Karl... what is illuminated under the rolling thunder of those Deludium Skies?

How long have you been working on Deludium Skies as a project?
Should be 15 years by now. I started with the first tracks in late 2010 and then released two EPs in 2011/2012 with relatively raw drone stuff done only with guitar and occasional synths. That question made me listen to some of those tracks for the first time in many years by the way; there are still some cool parts here and there, but all in all I'm not too happy with the sloppy transitions and the production value in general...

How has the project changed over the years?
It started with lo-fi doom/drone/ambient soundscapes, later evolving into more refined and versatile, often melodic, tracks, mixed with much more influences like folk, jazz, blues etc. - also a broader range of instruments.
I guess Aspirations from 2018 was the first major step towards the current style of DS.

Has it always been a solo endeavor? When do you feel compelled to rope in collaborators?
Yep, it started as pure solo project. More out of lack of opportunity, living in a small town with a few thousand people, not knowing anyone personally who actually plays an instrument and is into the more experimental side of music. There's always been guests on the albums in the last five years, though.
Not sure if "compelled" is the fitting description there... I always love to bring in external creative input and many different instruments, especially those I absolutely can't play, like all kinds of wind instruments.

How did you learn guitar, and who were your primary influences?
I got my first e-guitar as young teen (cheap brand strat-type) in the 90s, but wasn't too motivated, I was almost twenty till I approached it more seriously, learned at least a few chords and basics from one of those beginner's books. I still don't know that much about music theory to be honest, I prefer to just fiddle around and come up with something by myself. That's why I never invested much time in learning other's songs either, which makes the external influences hard to pin down, but I guess I was mostly into metal back then, mainly goth/doom/black.

How were you introduced to the blues?
I started to really appreciate it in my mid twenties, when I dug deeper into 60s/70s folk rock releases, they're heavily influenced by blues, like Bob Dylan, Davy Graham, Tim Buckley. Then soon stumbled over some cool more recent blues infused stuff as well, like Mark Lanegan and Songs: Ohia.

What would you consider to be your major influences, music and otherwise?
Like already mentioned, it's not so easy to exactly pin down. I love to listen and discover various forms of music, probably many of them had a bit of an influence, direct or indirect. A selection of artists I always come back to, aside from the already mentioned: Tom Waits, Pink Floyd, Bardo Pond, Portishead, Esbjörn Svensson Trio, CAN, Black Sabbath, Miles Davis.
I also do enjoy a lot of movies; Cronenberg, Miyazaki, Gilliam, Malle, Melville, etc.

Would you consider what you are doing "metal"? If not, how would you best describe it to the uninitiated?
Well, there are a couple of quite thick and heavy sounding tracks that might as well pass as doom(ish) metal, overall I'd see it more as heavier experimental rock, or drone rock.

Is there precedence in Austira for your style of playing and approach, or do you feel like you're breaking fairly fresh ground?
I don't think there is, in fact the only other Austrian drone act with a heart for experiments that spontaneously comes to my mind is Goddess Limax Black. No wonder, it's a usually a monotonous and minimalistic style, not exactly predestined and known for getting too adventurous, so there won't be that many comparable acts on an international scale either. I'm like a tiny niche inside already niche music - hence the huge success, I guess...

How does the symbolism of mountains inform and elevate your latest release, Stardust Echos?
Sometimes I got a distinctive theme in mind before or early during the recording of an album, but in this case I already had finished at least half of the tracks before I came up with titles and a cover concept, and it was done pretty impulsive within a day. I initially thought a desert themed cover would fit to the music, but that seemed too close to the cover from the 2021 album Destination Desolation. So I altered it and ended up with a mountain in a desert landscape (inspired by the Hoggar Mountains in Algeria), combined with a psychedelic spacey sky above.

Is there a particular mood or state of mind you are hoping to induce within the listener with this release?
Never thought about it. Relaxed and open minded would be my instinctive answer.

How often do you perform these tracks live, and how do you go about recreating the unique atmosphere of the album in a live setting?
So far, never. I was never asked to do so, and honestly, I'm neither used to nor eager to perform in front of many people anyway.
Also other problems would come up: there are a lot of improvised parts on every album and I almost never write anything down. So I'd have to figure out first, how the fuck I played this and that part. Not to mention finding band members, I can only play one instrument at a time...

What is next in store for this project?
Nothing planned so far. That's not unusual though, sometimes I record nothing in months, and then a couple of tracks within a week.
Might take a bit longer this time, I'm not feeling very motivated at the moment, because of shit sales (*nudge nudge wink wink*) and general lack of support.

Check out Karl's latest album Stardust Echoes here: 

Album Review: Excuse Me Who Are You? - Double Bind

Excuse me, who are you? I hear it a lot. For example, when I helpfully attempt to add additional orders of french fries to strangers' orders at drive-throughs, or when employees at pet supply retailers discover that I've MacGyvered my way into the cat adoption area to give all my future fur children imprisoned there a pat on the head, and always and inevitably, when I'm discovered by a member of the housekeeping staff to be impersonating a sports journalist to get a comped executive suite and a crate of grapefruits to myself while tumbling through Nevada.* However, I've never heard the phrase in a moment of bliss that didn't involve me risking arrest, or at the very least, an uneasy confrontation... that is until now: Out of Madison Wisconsin, bellows and cries a group that certainly is no stranger to the eccentricities and nonconforming pleasures that make life worth the wages and weight of alienation, immeasurable Sisyphean toil, and the manifold of intolerances that all too often dictates its terms. Excuse Me Who Are You probably don't endorse me scamming hotels while pretending to cover dirt-buggy bolts across the Majove, but I fully endorse their understatedly gallant, glitteringly gut-wrenching and thoroughly delightful album Double Bind- a post-hardcore cast cascade of bright and sharply flexing chords, winding grooves that spin and splunk like a bowling ball rolling through an Escher print while dragging a splattering ream of ink soaked dairy passages behind it, and shout-sung vocals that bare their fangs like a bellicose wolf before the moon as a trumpeter of lost and lonely agitation in an unfeeling and unsympathetic world. EMWAY is a band that very clearly takes their performance and the subject matter of their songs as seriously as a chemical dependency, without losing sight of the fact that the music they're making is meant to be fun- many of the tracks include amusing cutaways and scrapped soundbites, while titled range from text emojis to ironic musings on the slippery divide between death and sleep, with the most diverting (literally) being the web address to the official page celebrating Mima of Perfect Blue- a roll of the tragic waggishness that impresses upon the fact that the emotive, psychological, and digital acquire a concreteness in our experience that is as real as the foundation of wood, stone and steal beneath our feet and an acknowledgment of the ephemeral fluids of our digital selves as they bleed into the cold heart of meat space. While they're certainly capable of raising a reflective ruckus on their own, the group is not alone in conjuring these missives of clever catharsis and cutting inquiry, being helped to attain ebullient new heights with the 8-bit aid of Hey, Ily, and learn to practice an uncommon subtly of softness and certainty in collaboration with fellow Wisconsinites Tiny Voices (just to name a few of the guest features on the album). Unwind your sorrow and put some slack in the line; exercise the ghosts and guilt that tie this Double Bind. 

I've only got two thumbs, so that's as many as I'm giving this Double Bind- a record released by Thumbs Up Records. 

*I fear this one might not have been me actually... or at the very least that I'm misrecollecting something.