The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
Every Tuesday, the Sounding Board is a space for a short-ish review of a recent-ish release and conversations about new-to-you music. We’ll get things started with a write-up about a newer, likely under-heard album, and invite you to share your music musings in the comments.
I resent post recovery almost as much as I like it, and I like midwest, post death’s debut album quite a lot.1
Nearly every trait I find charming in an indie rock record is represented somewhere in the LP’s 10 folk-punk-leaning tracks.2 Big hooks, plenty of feedback, arbitrary studio chatter, lead vocals that occasionally sound like they were shouted through a wrapping paper tube that was forced into a kazoo, surprisingly sweet background harmonies, bouts of strident shouting, drastic swings in tempo and intensity, a sprawling assortment of instruments and tongue-in-cheek existentialism are all present on post recovery.
It’s rough-hewn, sometimes sprawling, chaotic and catchy in a way that provides a sugar rush on first listen. Post Recovery also holds up well to repeat spins, although relistens do underscore that a 10-song album does not need two nearly two-minute-long twinkling instrumental interstitials. “Winterbed” and “clock” are pleasant enough palate-cleansing rest stops between lively tracks, and 10 songs does feel like a good number of songs for a first album, but the instrumentals are largely unnecessary because midwest, post death already has a solid handle on pacing at the song level.
“Toscas Christmas” is over six minutes of mostly wordless post-rock that ebbs, flows and stays interesting throughout its relatively epic duration. Likewise, the soft intro, harsh screams, and cabaret coda that comprise “raphaim” are further evidence of a band that understands how to give a track a self-contained sense of momentum.
Maybe “fantasy,” a lively late-album standout,3 wouldn’t hit as hard if its loose lead-in, emergency-siren falsetto backing vocals and explosion into tooth-bearing intensity came immediately on the heels of “goodmourning”’s pop-punk lamentations. However, it seems like a safe bet since “goodmourning” quiets and slows considerably during its protracted, slightly discordant wind-down.
It feels like picking nits to ding an otherwise strong album over harmless, superfluous material, but the padding makes up 20% of the track list and a decent chunk of the LP’s runtime. However, that’s not the source of my resentment toward post recovery. When I press play on album-opener “fox,” any and all of midwest, post death’s musical transgressions are forgiven.
The cause of my mostly facetious ire is a short bit of band background included on post recovery‘s Bandcamp Page. “THE BAND WAS FORMED IN A DAY OVER DISCORD,” states the uncharacteristically all-caps blurb. “AND THE ALBUM WAS RECORDED IN 8 DAYS.”
In just over a week, four online friends — monomynous vocalist Travis and multi-named multi-instrumentalists Wynn Herrera, Dominik Cuagga and Elise Rusher — knocked out an impressive, deeply likeable indie rock album with credits that include multiple types of guitar, percussion and piano.4 I consider it a triumph if I walk my dog, go to the office, go to the gym and work on this column all in the same day. Plus, the timeframe prompts an unflattering comparison between the eight-day album and this seven-day piece. I don’t think a bonus day would be anywhere near enough to even the field. The alacrity and accomplishment on display are downright noxious. It’s not quite reading about the Beatles while simultaneously remembering creative enterprises from my mid-20s, but it’s in that ballpark, and I am indignant about it.
However, post recovery‘s Bandcamp page continues past the quoted section above and provides some helpful context for the LP. This two-sentence tidbit cuts right through my probably pretend seething to my sincerely impressed core.
“This record is dedicated to Mitch, rest in peace,” it states. “PROFITS WILL BE DONATED TO THE TREVOR PROJECT.”
About the writer
Ben Hohenstatt
Ben Hohenstatt is an Alaska-based dog owner who moonlights as a music writer and photographer.
For more information, consult your local library or with parental permission visit his website.
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The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
Department of
Conversation
What did we watch?
The Kids In The Hall, Season Five, Episode Nine
“You’ve got to hide all your Tom of Finland characters, your porn.”
These gay guys are the best new characters on the show. They have that bro attitude to relationships but with authentic queer Canadian veneer, and the characters are all so different from each other, but with a shared respect for each other. I could watch a whole show about them.
“I am not effeminate.”
“Yes you are.”
“I got crabs in my pubic hair.”
“See, I’m not from here, I’m American, so I’m not familiar with the crab shampoo situation around here.”
This character is exactly what non-Americans picture when they think about Americans. This is what we assume an American is like when given no other information about them.
“You tell me to jump, I don’t say, ‘how high’, I say, ‘What do you want me to get while I’m up there?’.”
“Tickles. You bastard.”
“Come on. Lick my bag.”
“Give me the tea, you bastard.”
“It is the water in which the potato was boiled.”
“I know what crack is, Mr Jones.”
“Don’t worry about it, he’s in!”
“Give it a chance. The gay and lesbian community needs this picture.”
“You know, Butch, you look a lot like Andrew Baldwin.”
“No way, he’s Jewish.”
“We’ve seen Mimi’s tits about seven times. […] Eight!”
I’ve actually had this exact complaint about gay movies I’ve seen. I once saw a gay film that had three separate heterosexual subplots and not one actual romantic partner for the gay male hero.
“That’s it. I’m officially outraged.”
The Bride!
Extremely self-indulgent, so I had a great time with this. It lets you know the kind of movie it’ll be from the opening shots, where we see Mary Shelley in the afterlife, miserable and wanting to make a sequel to her story; I actually mistook actress Jesse Buckley for Gyllenhall herself, making me assume an even greater level of self-indulgence than is actually there, but I do enjoy interpreting it as a woman allowing herself to go crazy with someone else’s money in a way that’s more often afforded men, which ties into the themes and actions. Gyllenhall and Bale interpret the Creature – here, called Frankenstein, irritatingly often shortened to Frank despite the creature being called Adam in the book – not so much as an incel as a badly socialised man, desperate to recreate the image of romance he’s literally seen in movies. Gyllenhall’s great idea here is to carry through the basic idea from the book of making someone a bride, in every sense of the term.
Has any adaptation ever called him Adam? (I have a vague memory of the one with Jennifer Beals doing so?)
Larry Fessenden’s Deranged, which is not as good as it should be unfortunately.
I feel like people really like the idea of the Creature being nameless. Dehumanises him and also makes him a little more relatable.
The Practice, “Choirboys” – A mentally ill murderer, freed on a technicality due to Lindsay, has killed again and told Lindsay and Claire were to find the body. But lawyer-client privilege prevents them from saying anything except that the victim (all of 14 years old) is dead, so off to jail on contempt charges they go. Given it’s Lindsay, always the one who has to deal with the obsessives, this is not played too sensationally. But a psychopathic serial killer isn’t exactly calming. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Eugene defend a man accused of killing three women. A man who is 30 and very well off from his computer gig but still lives with his mother, and comes across as weird. Our team wins, in part because Helen really overplays the “this guy is weird and maybe sleeps with his mother” card, but someone hacked Helen’s computer and threatened her. Is it the client? To be continued. Lesley Ann Warren played the client’s somewhat odd mother.
Frasier, “We Two Kings” – Frasier and Niles squabble over who is hosting Christmas, driving Martin nuts. Hijinks and holiday spirit ensue, with enough good cheer to keep things interesting if predictable. And Roz, volunteering as a department store elf, has a crush on the Santa, but soon realizes she is not interested in the man inside the costume but possibly the idea of Santa itself. The now-disreputable Dean Cain plays “Santa,” making him possibly the only person to play that and Superman on screen.
Live theater
I was in New York this weekend, and I saw Every Brilliant Thing, a one-man show with Daniel Radcliffe. This is an exceptionally clever, lively use of the format, with Radcliffe playing a man–though I bought a copy of the script afterwards, and apparently the gender of the lead role, as well as the gender of the love interest, etc., are all flexible–who takes the audience on a 75-minute tour of his life, especially growing up in the shadow of his mother’s depression (her first suicide attempt was when he was still very young) and eventually dealing with his own. He tries early on to make a list of “every brilliant thing,” all the experiences and parts of life that are worth staying alive for, and he kept developing it for years … until his own depression led to him stalling out because he could no longer see any new things to list.
This sounds bleak, and parts of it are sad and razor-sharp, but a lot of it is incredibly funny, and again, I can’t emphasize enough how lively and fun it was to see. (I mean, it did nothing to help my own depression, but that feels like a big ask: it was still a really enjoyable way to spend a little over an hour, and I’m very happy to have bought the script to remember it by.) It’s staged in the round, and the format demands that Radcliffe pull in various audience members for little bits of structured improv (to play his father or husband or the guidance counselor or professor, etc.), and the goodwill in the room for these ordinary people who found themselves on stage was so high and so great to be around. Radcliffe seems like an amazing, exuberant collaborator–you could see him talking briefly to people in the crowd before the play got started, setting up the little bits, and it was clear he was friendly and electric and delighted by everyone. Special shout-out to the dad actor who actually thought to mime steering during the scene where he and Radcliffe were in a car together.
Highly recommended if anyone gets the chance.
Live ballet
I’d never seen live ballet before! But to my uneducated eye, this was superb. There was a selected bit of Raymonda–apparently the most technically challenging part of the piece, and I was pleased that I at least knew to marvel at an extraordinary amount of en pointe hopping even before the audience started spontaneously applauding it–and then the entirety of Firebird, which was a terrific bit of spectacle. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous set design, a villain who’s like David Bowie crossed with the Joker, incredible costuming, expressive body language, the works.
Timothée Chalamet is a liar, because this place was packed full of an extremely appreciative audience.
Inside No. 9, “3 x 3”
A stealth episode: the show originally promoted a completely different episode and then aired what appeared to be a new game show that was actually an Inside No. 9 in disguise. Obviously, when you’re watching it in retrospect, you know the reality going in, but even if the surprise is no longer there, it’s fun to watch how carefully and subtly this builds its sub rosa story while still seeming, for much of its runtime, to genuinely be a general knowledge quiz show with a little bit of fun repartee. And I’m very pleased by the Matthew Hopkins reference.
Wow, this sounds so great and can imagine Radcliffe being the kind of actor who’d be terrific at audience participation.
I really loved it! And yeah, he was so spectacular at that–he seemed to really make everyone feel comfortable and get a genuine kick out of interacting with them. (There’s a bit where the “guidance counselor” has to, on the spot, name the sock puppet she created, and Radcliffe seemed over the moon about this night’s version coming up with “Rufus Uh-oh.”)
My boyfriend has been taking me to ballet lately, and I’ve enjoyed it sporadically; I surprised and confused them the first time when I spent the whole time trying to interpret a story through the dancing.
That would work very well for Firebird! I think the narrative there was part of the appeal for me–with the first piece, I could sort of appreciate the technical beauty of the body becoming a series of unusual lines, achieved with great physical and artistic difficulty, but it didn’t have enchanted brainwashing, you know?
The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins up to Ep.4, so many great laugh lines here and the show is pretty thoughtful about it’s characters even for a Fey/Carlock show, like Brina not being a gold digger at all. (Precious Way’s Tracy Morgan impression is so good.) Highlights include FDNY: Chicago – “I’m walking here….in Chicago!” and the exchange, “Hoisted by my own petard…well played, sir.” “I know people started using that word again but I will not hear it in my house!” Morgan is so funny that it is genuinely hard to tell when he’s improvising and when he’s simply great at delivering jokes.
Good Boy (aka Heel) – went to a “mystery screening” which turned out to be this interesting, dark thriller. When the title was revealed I wondered whether the reason they’d decided to mystery-screen it was because there was another film with the exact same title released last year, haha. This one is not about a dog, although the original title is quite a good fit. It’s about an odd couple (Stephen Graham and Andrea Riseborough) who kidnap and imprison a wild teenager after one of the drink / drug binges that he partakes in and shares on social media. Their intention is to rehabilitate him, their motives remain somewhat mysterious and their methods (inevitably, since they start with kidnap) are dubious. But the film remains quite non-judgemental and enjoys exploring the idea that maybe one bad thing can help fix another bad thing.
Looking it up afterwards, I saw a few Yorgos Lanthimos comparisons and I wouldn’t say that’s entirely right, but there is a bit of Dogtooth-esque queasiness to this even if it doesn’t feel like as distinct a vision. Still, a pretty interesting twisted thriller with some good performances and a fun experience, would Mystery Screen again.
This sounds like my kind of thing. Added to the Letterboxd watchlist.
You should watch it in a triple bill with the other two films called Good Boy released in the last 12 months. As an experiment
What did we listen to?
More of the podcast Hoax! This is generally an entertaining podcast about famous (crop circles) and less famous hoaxes. But every so often, I am reminded that the hosts are just doing this for fun and are neither experts nor want to be. I was kind of disheartened when one said she knew nothing about how radio waves worked “and really didn’t care to.” And was just annoyed that the context they gave for King George III was “the king from Bridgerton. And Hamilton.” I guess if I want a serious history podcast, I need serious historians, and the same for serious science. But this just feels a bit lazy, like they neither have nor want a deeper understanding or a deeper context.
Music wise, got on a standards kick, though what Spotify thinks are standards includes a lot of oldies.
Am currently listening to Porgy & Bess, the Houston production that is apparently the complete score, and it’s quite beautiful though I suspect I, like that Chalamet son of a bitch, will never be a devoted opera fan. It feels as if the form by nature demands to be taken seriously (“it insists upon itself”) to an irritating extent. Nevertheless, the mix of jazz and European styles is very obviously brilliant and that high emotion undercuts what could be a lot of racist stereotypes. Hard to dismiss Porgy and Bess as types when the opera insists on investing in them as people. (This also made interesting pairing as I start listening to more of The Gun Club, also white musicians taking on Black forms and mixing them with stereotypically white ones.)
Tried Wolf Parade after reading Matt Mitchell’s very good retrospective on Apologies to the Queen Mary, but god this is not doing it for me, especially the vocals. Certain kind of squawky, emo singing that feels very of an era.
Nina Simone Sings The Blues suggested by a lady I’m seeing and fuck is this great of course. Recorded during some real turbulence in Simone’s life as she broke up with her shitty manager/husband and the effect live is electrifying. Pain and sultriness abound in “Do I Move You?” and the great “Backlash Blues,” written by Langston Hughes.
More on my Nick Cave/Bad Seeds discography listen next week but…shit is awesome. My one sentence take.
Nina Simone Sings The Blues is an all-timer for me. Its heat can warm up the coldest winter night.
It’s so great, I was shocked I hadn’t listened to it before.
I’ve been disappearing down an instrumental folk-guitar rabbit hole. Really enjoyed the albums “Trainsong” by Michael Chapman and “The Hawksworth Grove Sessions” by Jim Ghedi and Toby Hay, which is full of sparkly 12-string guitar textures. Really pretty music with a calming vibe that is very welcome because work is stressing me out an incredible amount lately.
In podcasts, I checked out the Blank Check awards episode and I’m also catching up on the last few Critical Darlings episodes so it’s been heavy on awards chat. I managed to see way more of the big critically beloved movies than usual this year and it was kinda fun keeping up. But now I’ve started up the Screen Drafts 1980 draft and it’s kinda nice getting away from the topical stuff and hearing about some stuff from the golden age of “just before I was born”.