Strange Souvenirs is an electronic/alt-pop duo from Berlin, Germany comprised of brothers Thomas and Matthias Juhnke. In their own colorful words, they “blend influences from 80s new wave, 90s trip hop, post-millennial electronica & indie with science fiction soundtracks, video games and nuggets of nerd culture into a schizoid selection of danceable, delicate and disorienting songs.” Three months ago, I reviewed their enthralling single “Pixels”, and now they’re back with “Nothing2“, their sixth consecutive single release since their December 2019 debut of “Scrape”. The song is a dramatic tour de force, and one of their best yet.
Matthias wrote the lyrics for “Nothing2”, and the music was co-written by him and Thomas, along with their frequent collaborator Cameron James Laing, a talented Berlin-based producer, composer and multi-instrumentalist who also recorded, produced and mixed the track at The Famous Gold Watch Studios in Berlin. Thomas and Matthias programmed the synthesizers and Matthias sang lead vocals. Cameron played acoustic guitar, bass, piano, organ, mellotron, renegade triangle, and the orchestral string arrangement, Gidon Carmel played drums and percussion, Héloïse Lefebvre played violin and viola, Tim Hook played electric guitar and Heidi Heidelberg sang the glorious choir backing vocals. The track was mastered by Davide Ruffini at Wisseloord Studios Hilversum, Netherlands. The cover art “20/20 Eye” was created by Michelle Marie-Lou Nuerk.
The guys state “Nothing2” is “A jilted yet strangely joyful sprawl about feeling nothing at all and everything all at once. A five and a half minute emotional outburst full of misery & magic, gut-wrenching punches, beautiful bruises, abrupt endings & unexpected new beginnings.” Matthias elaborated to me that the lyrics were inspired by two unexpected and unrelated life events in the space of six months that left him at the edges of nothings, but the details are unsavoury and quite distressing, so he kept things intentionally vague. But from what I can discern, they seem to speak of a relationship that ended very badly, and just wanting to make a clean break from the past and move on.
The song opens on a somber note, with strummed acoustic guitar and droning keyboards, accompanied by Matthias’ rather melancholy vocals. Gradually, the music expands with horns and what sounds like mellotron into a more upbeat feel, though the melancholy undercurrent remains. Héloïse’s warbly strings add great texture and an eerie, disconcerting vibe to the proceedings. The song seems to end at 2:21, then abruptly starts back up with greater urgency, as more instruments and synths are added to the mix. Everything continues to build into a magnificent cinematic soundscape that calls to mind some of the mid-career songs by the Beatles. The dramatic music continues for the remainder of the song, conveying a strong sense of cathartic release from troubles of the past. It’s a phenomenal track.
There’s nothing to Take back or undo I thought you’d know by now There’s no point in stalling There’s no point in stalling
Would you please stop calling me
This is what it all amounts to When the day is through This is what it all amounts to When the night’s through Absolutely nothing Absolutely nothing
Would you please stop calling me
There’s nothing to see There’s nothing to say There’s nowhere to be So just go away
We couldn’t see the cracks in the surface And the nothing seeping through Watch the walls come down on the life you knew Here comes the wrecking crew
This is what it all amounts to When the day is through This is what it all amounts to When the night’s through Absolutely nothing
South Wales-based Head Noise are a self-described “Oddball DIY electro trash punk band, spitting out angsty garbage about junk culture, broken technology and modern art.” Listening to their zany music, which sounds like it could have been created by the love child of Devo, The Vapors and Dr. Demento, I’d say that’s a pretty spot-on assessment. I first featured them on this blog almost exactly one year ago, when I reviewed their single “200,000 Gallons of Oil”, one of the tracks from their trippy debut album Über-Fantastique. Now they’re back with a new five-track EP CONSEQUENTIAL QUASARS!, serving up 13 minutes of non-stop musical mayhem for our listening enjoyment. The EP was released on April 23rd via the independent Welsh label Dirty Carrot Records.
Since I last visited Head Noise, they’ve grown from a threesome to a quartet, with the addition of a drummer. They now consist of Mitch Tennant (primitive keyboards & shouting), Wayne Bassett (guitar & synths), Jordan Brill (more guitar & synths), and Andres “Topper the Pops” Walsh (drums & percussion). Bassett is also involved in other music projects, including a recent collaboration with Dunkie, who’s wonderful EP The Vanishing and Other Stories I reviewed in March. The songs on that EP could not be more different than those on CONSEQUENTIAL QUASARS!, which features their signature ambiguous and surreal lyrics, unorthodox instrumentals and quirky vocals.
About the EP, the band explains “The idea for the EP was to have more of a rough and ready, raw and energised approach to the recording for bit more of an experimental flair. The inclusion of the electronic drums alongside some much thicker and fuzzy guitars have given the latest batch of songs a certain kick to them, which the band are finding quite exciting to play with. The band thinks that this will transpose to the live arena very well, so are very much looking forward to debuting these songs when live music makes its eventual comeback.”
The EP kicks off with “Alaska Later“, a delicious punk gem with a frantic, driving beat, chugging riffs and colorful, fun-house synths that create a deliriously upbeat vibe. I’m not sure what the song is about, but it seems to speak to the foolishness of poseurs, idiots and wannabes: “We’ve got this shared hatred of idiocy. But now they’ve missed the bus for a slice of new-age hogwash./ Imitator. Alaska Later. Instigator. Alaska Later.” But later in the song, Tennant sings “The only thrill that I consider that is greater than this, is a smaller heating bill, and a bathroom that doesn’t smell like piss“, so it’s anyone’s guess. Then, in his twisted Dr. Demento voice, he chants “Liquidator, see you later. No you won’t. Dead.”
The wild and crazy vibes continue with “Cubist Ballet“, a frenetic punk ode to the early 20th century cubism art movement that shook the art world. Like all ground-breaking trends, it was met with much derision, expressed in the lyrics “But then they booed and hissed like proto-anarchists. Art is subjective. Then I have something to say. No matter the outcome from those zany days. The collaboration was wild and abhorred. So I think innovation deserves an award.” Things turn a bit more gothic on “Drift“, with a beat that reminds me somewhat of The Cure’s “Lovesong”. I really like the spooky, almost psychedelic synths, aggressive drumbeats and and mix of jangly and gnarly guitars. Tennant’s vocals sound more conventional here, though still delivered with the cheeky playfulness we’ve come to love and expect.
The trippy “Queztalcoatl’s Axolotl” has a bouncy retro 80s punk/new wave vibe, and rather nonsensical lyrics alluding to Greek and Aztec statues and enjoying the good life: “Like I tried to convey, I lust to compile with an Aztec flavor, and a salamander smile. You see my garden lacks a prophetic shrine, a kind of je ne sais quoi.Behind the concrete of hidden landmines, we’ll be sharing beluga caviar.” Whatever it’s meaning, it’s a fun tune.
“Tracey Emin” is the most melodic of the five tracks, with a terrific guitar-driven new wave groove. And like many of their songs, it’s features an abundance of the band’s signature zany psychedelic synths, stellar guitar work and strong, thumping rhythms. The lyrics speak of the English artist Tracey Emin, specifically her 1997 work Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995, a tent appliquéd with the names of everyone she’d ever shared a bed with, including family members, friends, drinking partners and lovers: “Did you only mean to shock? Tracey Emin! Opening Pandora’s lock, and then throw away the key. Bringing you closer to me. Would you ever be content, hiding your life in a tent? Showing the state of your bed. Do you ever feel exposed…”
CONSEQUENTIAL QUASARS! is a thoroughly delightful little EP, and another fine release by this highly creative and eccentric group of guys. If you enjoy quirky, out of the ordinary music and vocals, you will like this record.
There’s so much great musical talent out there that it sometimes makes my head spin. I’ve recently written about quite a few exceptional artists and bands, and today I’m pleased to introduce another – silky-voiced Australian singer-songwriter Sam Dawes, who goes by the artistic moniker G. Samedi. Sam’s actually no stranger to this blog, as he’s also the lead vocalist and songwriter for Sydney band Thunder Fox, who I adore and have featured numerous times. While still actively involved with Thunder Fox, who will be releasing their second album later this year, Sam decided at the beginning of 2020 to record and produce some of his songs as a solo artist. In little more than a year, he’s already released seven singles (the first was actually a double single), all of which are fantastic. His latest is “Icarus“, which dropped April 30th.
Curious about the name G. Samedi, I asked Sam how he came up with that moniker. He told me it’s “just a silly amalgamation of my real name, Samuel George Dawes. People would call me Sammy D at school, I liked the character ‘Baron Samedi’ from James Bond, and it just came together nicely.” Well, I think G. Samedi is an ideal name, as it suggests an air of sophistication and sexual mystery, both of which are characteristics of his wonderfully unique sound.
Drawing from R&B, soul, trip hop, electronic and alternative rock elements, Sam creates moody and sensuous soundscapes for the expression of his bold lyrics addressing the darker and more introspective aspects of love and relationships. Then he delivers them with his distinctive soulful vocals that go from smooth, sultry croons to plaintive falsetto. He writes all his own music and lyrics, records and programs all instruments, sings all vocals, and produces and mixes all tracks. The only think he outsources is the mastering.
“Icarus” is a stunning and fascinating track, featuring a complex, almost progressive arrangement and a colorful array of instruments and synths. The song opens with stirring synths and an almost gospel-like organ, accompanied with tinkling piano keys. I love Sam’s expressive vocals, which sound especially vulnerable as he laments about falling out of love for his partner and the resulting pain he caused her and the damage he did to their relationship, while admitting he still has strong feelings for her: “I still needed her after all / I fell away, wings like Icarus melting on my bleeding lust. I knew I’d fly too close for us.” As the organ recedes, the melody settles into a languid R&B groove, highlighted by a mix of shimmery and gritty guitars and a thumping drumbeat. His layered vocal harmonies are really beautiful too, turning more plaintive and heartfelt as he implores her to reconsider: “I just love you, isn’t that enough?” The song ends with sounds of a droning synth and pounding drum.
“Icarus” is wonderful, and another in an unbroken string of really stellar singles by this talented artist. If you like it, do take a little time to listen to some of his other songs as well on one of the music platforms below.
As someone who has zero musical aptitude or talent, I’m always impressed by those who do, and even more so when they’re as young as the guys in the band Stargazy Pie. Formed in 2019, the Tacoma, Washington-based foursome are all still in their teens, ranging in age from 15-19, but their music and lyrics have a level of quality and maturity well beyond their tender years. In January, they released their debut album Butterfly Hand Grenade, and I must say that it’s quite good! I also love that they named their band after a traditional Cornish fish pie. Traditionally, stargazy pie is filled with potatoes, eggs and whole pilchards (sardines) – yuk! – and baked with the fish heads poking though the pastry crust so that they appear to be gazing at the stars. Hence the band’s logo:
Making the great music are Jack Stoker (rhythm guitar, lead vocals), Logan Chernoske (lead guitar, bass, backing vocals), Logan Neville-Neil (bass, piano, backing vocals) and Sulli Olson-Rexroat (drums). The album was produced and engineered by Regan Lane and Sean Van Dommelen of the band Strangely Alright, whose music I’ve also featured a number of times on this blog. The beautiful album art was created by band guitarist, Logan Chernoske, who edited together two NASA photographs of butterfly nebulas with a shadowy image of the lead singer Jack.
The album kicks off with “Kinda Lame“, a rousing tune that takes me back to the 90s with a groove that reminds me a bit of songs by the Gin Blossoms or early Jimmy Eat World. The upbeat, driving rhythms contrast with the more serious lyrics that speak to the disappointment of unrequited love and coming to terms with the fact that the one you love just doesn’t feel the same about you. The instrumentals are all top-notch, and Jack’s vocals are in fine form, transitioning from smooth croons to soaring entreaties with ease as he laments “I think you’re making a big mistake. But I know that we can’t control these things. And baby if you just don’t feel the same, I think that’s kinda lame.”
“Paranoid” is a terrific hard rock song, with marvelous chugging riffs of gnarly and distorted guitars, accompanied by galloping rhythms that create a heavier, more urgent sound for the bitter lyrics giving someone who’s betrayed you the big kiss-off: “So don’t come crawling back in shame. Cause I just can’t be friends with someone who wants to see me in pain. But now I’m Paranoid, Cause I know what you’ve done. If I can’t trust you then I can’t trust no one.” Once again, Jack’s vocals are outstanding.
The wonderfully-titled head banger “why’dyouleave(girl).wav” really channels Jimmy Eat World, with frantic rhythms and rapid-fire riffs a la “The Middle”, only faster and with lots more distortion. Jack’s vocal dexterity is impressive as he feverishly spits out the lyrics in perfect sync with the frenzied pace of the instrumentals as he implores ” Why’d you have to walk away? All I need is one more day. So much more I had to say. Things will never be the same. It didn’t have to end this way, oh I just want you to stay.”
The next three tracks address the guys’ anxieties and experiences as a young band, and once again I have to say that I’m both impressed and touched by their intelligent and introspective songwriting, especially given their young ages. The buoyant “Constellations” speaks to the healing powers of making and performing music: “I can’t erase these things that I’ve done. I’m on the run, oh I’m on the run. And I just won’t face what I’ve become. None of it’s fun, oh none of it’s fun. But I’ll go to waste if I don’t move on. I’ll make a name, I’ll be someone. Oh I know a place where we belong. We will be constellations. And we will sing to the nations.”
“$25 Guitar” is a sweet and poignant ode to the singer’s very first guitar that got him where he is today musically, and though it makes him sad, it’s now time for him to move up to a better model: “My twenty-five dollar guitar. Oh I knew you were a star. And it must be so very hard to hear, but my twenty-five dollar guitar, you just weren’t up to par. So leaving you shouldn’t leave me in tears.” In keeping with the sentimental subject, the song’s arrangement is more laid-back, with charming strummed guitars, however, the rhythm section is still rather spirited, though it doesn’t detract from the track’s mellower feel.
And on the boisterous garage rocker “Going Under“, they touch on the perils of falling prey to acting like a ‘rock star’, being full of yourself and disrespecting others and, ultimately yourself. “Lars Ulrich, he’s a prick. Ain’t got no talent on him. I think he’s full of it. But maybe that’s my problem. I can say you’re not great but you can say the same thing. Why do we wanna hate when we can just walk away? Making me wonder am I going under?/ It’s not about what you decide to do with your life. It’s more how you treat stuff and if you do what is right. Don’t hate me, if you’re angry. Cause that’s exactly what I do. I hate that I’m angry and I keep disrespecting you.” Jack and Logan C. set the airwaves afire with face-melting riffs, while Logan N. and Sulli deliver non-stop pummeling rhythms.
The guys slow it back down on the title track “Butterfly Hand Grenade“, a lovely, bittersweet song about missing someone special. “Butterfly hand grenade. Got me feeling this way. Never know what to say cause I get lost when you smile. / Falling deep in denial. And it feels so wrong cause my heart still longs. And you’re not here.” The instrumentals are quite gentle, consisting mainly of strummed guitar and warm keyboards. When the song seems to end at around 2:48, the music returns with added percussion as Jack sadly ponders “So oh, I gotta know. Was this all real? Or was it for show? Oh, I gotta know. Was this all real? Or was it for show?”
Everything comes full circle on the closing track “Pretty Great“, a call-back to the opening track “Kinda Lame”. Jack now concludes that he’s okay with the way things ended in the relationship after all, and that he’ll be alright: “Don’t worry about me, I’ll find someone who’ll be, oh all that I’ve dreamed. I once had this feeling, but now that I’m healing I’m finally set free. And that’s not to slight you. I still adore you, just not in that way. And now, everything is pretty great.”
Pretty great is an apt description for this delightful album. Butterfly Hand Grenade is a solid work, and a very impressive debut for this remarkably talented young band. Of course, some credit must be given to producers Regan Lane and Sean Van Dommelen. Still, it’s heartwarming to see a young act put out such a well-crafted work as this, and I hope we’ll be hearing more great music from them.
I just reviewed musician Michael Lane, a singer-songwriter who was born in Germany, raised in America and now living in Germany. Now I’m writing about another musician based in Germany named Rod Fritz, who’s actually an Australian born and raised in Hobart, Tasmania, but now living in Germany as well. Rod has been involved with music for nearly 30 years, both in bands and as a solo artist. He started out in the early 90s playing saxophone with Australian band Death & Disease. After they disbanded, he began writing songs and recorded his first solo album Send Help in 1996. He later re-recorded many of those songs, plus some new tracks, for his 2011 album Clouded, which garnered critical and commercial acclaim, as well as airplay in Australia and beyond. In 2014, he embarked on a world tour that took him through the U.S., UK and Germany. His mother is originally from Germany, and while there he visited her and a number of family members. While playing a show, he met a woman with whom he eventually entered into a relationship, and he’s been in Germany ever since.
Hi pleasing music style draws from country, folk, pop and rock, with memorable and often catchy melodies, heartfelt lyrics and bold instrumentation. He followed Clouded with two more albums, Fritz in 2014 and Hold On in 2018. Since then, he’s released a number of singles, the latest of which is “Take the World with Me“. It’s an upbeat, feel-good song with a bouncy melody and joyful vibe similar to the Jawaiian (a Hawaiian style of reggae) sound of the Jason Mraz hit “I’m Yours”. Rod employs a lively mix of jauntily strummed guitars, sparkling synths, finger snaps, xylophone and other charming little instruments to create a carefree, sunny soundscape. His smooth, light-hearted vocals are comforting as he assures a loved one to have faith in him, and that he’ll be there to take care of and protect her: “Come and take the world with me, and I’ll be right there by your side. Come and take the world with me. Don’t cry, everything will be alright.”
It’s a sweet and happy song, and can’t we use more of those right now?
Last September (of 2020), I first featured German-American indie-folk singer-songwriter and producer Michael Lane on this blog when I reviewed his beautiful heartwarming single “Coming Home”. I also wrote a bit about his upbringing in both Germany and the United States, how his life experiences have shaped his songwriting, and of his growing success as a musician. A prolific artist, over the past seven years he’s released four albums, as well as numerous singles, helping him build a large and growing following in Germany and beyond. On Spotify alone, he has over 30,000 monthly listeners from countries like Great Britain, Canada, Australia and the U.S. Shortly after I published my review, Michael released another exquisite single “Moment” and now returns with his latest single “Good Times“, which I’ve chosen as my New Song of the Week.
As I customarily do when writing a review, I listen to some of the artist or band’s back music catalog, and once again I’m really impressed by the beauty and quality of Michael’s songwriting and vocals. His honest, relatable lyrics are consistently delivered with pleasing melodies, exceptional guitar work and soothing vocals. Released via the label Greywood Records, “Good Times” offers a message of hope and assurance that times of crisis will lead people back to the important things in life. Michael explains further: “Although ‘Good Times’ is a very upbeat and happy song, it still has a more serious and deeper meaning. Without getting too much into it, in the song I’m basically saying that, just because you surround yourself with a new house or nice car, doesn’t mean it will give you more happiness in the long run.“
The song has a breezy, toe-tapping melody, with an enchanting mix of gently-strummed and chiming guitars, accompanied by just the right amount of percussion and subtle bass to drive the rhythm forward, while still allowing Michael’s beautiful guitar work to shine. As always, his warm and clear vocals are heartfelt as he sings the poignant lyrics, backed by his own lovely harmonies. It’s another stellar addition to his unbroken string of outstanding singles.
You like drama but you never did like the truth
You sing songs to free the pain inside of you
Big house, new life helps to forget
All the memories that you regret
Act so tough, but you're really just scared
Yeah you're really just scared to live
All these walls, and you took what I had
Yeah, you took all I had to give
Yeah, you took all I had to give
Good times never die, don't you agree
What's life if you can't live life for free
You have a heart , so just hear what it has to say
Everybody hurts, don't give up and run away
Act so tough, but you're really just scared
Yeah you're really just scared to live
All these walls, yeah you took all I had
Yeah, you took all I had to give
In case it hasn’t been apparent to frequent readers of this blog, I’m a massive fan of MISSIO. On the strength of their phenomenal music catalog, as well as their honesty and openness with their fans and followers, in the space of a few years the Austin, Texas based duo have earned a place among my favorite music acts of all time. With the combined talents of singer-songwriter and producer Matthew Brue and songwriter/producer and instrumentalist David Butler, their edgy, thoroughly original sound is an eclectic mix of gritty alternative electronic rock, hip hop and dreamy emo vibes. Then there’s Matthew’s beautiful vocals that register in the higher octaves just below a falsetto, giving them a distinctive sound unlike any other singer, and making their music instantly identifiable as only MISSIO’s.
They exploded onto the music scene in 2017 with their outstanding debut album Loner, featuring the great singles “Middle Fingers”, “Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea” and “Everybody Gets High”. They quickly followed with two EPs, Skeletons: Part I and Skeletons: Part II, both featuring stripped-down, more meditative versions of tracks from Loner, plus a few new songs. In April 2019, they released their magnificent second album The Darker the Weather // The Better the Man, which I called a masterpiece and the best album of 2019 in my review. The album includes my favorite MISSIO song “I See You” (which I also named my #1 song of 2019), as well as “Rad Drugz”, “Temple Priest” and “Underground”. Since then, the duo have continued to put out a tremendous amount of new music. In March 2020, they released a beautiful and cinematic mostly instrumental soundtrack album for their documentary film Love Me Whole, a collaboration with videographer Jeff Ray about their struggles of what it means to be artists in America. That October, they followed with their brilliant fourth album Can You Feel The Sun. The gorgeous title track spent several weeks atop my Weekly Top 30 earlier this year.
On April 23, they returned with Skeletons: Part III, the third in their series of stripped-down versions of previously released tracks. Only this time, they decided to give them a more classical feel through the addition of strings and other orchestral instrumental touches. The guys explained their approach on their social media: “It’s been a dream of ours to be able to create music alongside a real string quartet, and we finally had the chance on this project. These re-imagined versions of our songs speak a bit more direct to the soul. It won’t be as good as sex however, with the right headphones/speakers it will get you close.”
Well, I have to say they’re absolutely right, because Skeletons: Part III is a 15-minute-long eargasm. Listening to its five tracks is an immersive experience, transporting you to a dreamy faraway place through breathtaking atmospheric soundscapes. Four of the tracks are from Can You Feel The Sun, along with one new track “Do You Realize??” The guys produced and arranged these re-imagined versions with the assistance of composer/arranger Fiona Brice, and with lush strings performed by the Tosca String Quartet. I love classical music and luxurious orchestral arrangements, so it’s no surprise that I’d love this EP. The tracks were mixed by their long-time collaborator Dwight Baker, and flawlessly mastered by Dave McNair.
They also produced stunning, artful videos for each of the tracks with footage filmed in and around Joshua Tree National Park, which is located about an hour from where I live in the Coachella Valley, in the Southern California desert. With its starkly beautiful landscapes and spiritual aura, Joshua Tree has long been a popular location for shooting music videos.
“Vagabond (Stripped)” is probably the most-changed of the four re-imagined tracks from its original version, which features a hard-driving dubstep beat, grungy and distorted industrial synths, and verses sung by rapper Esoteric of the hip hop group Czarface. The stripped-down version is darkly beautiful and contemplative, with eerie, echoed synths coupled with mournful strings, strummed guitar, and exquisite keyboards that gradually soar to a dramatic crescendo. Matthew’s strongly emotive vocals keep pace with the intensity of the music as he sings the lyrics that were inspired by David and his wife Amanda’s relationship, specifically, his feeling like he’d disappointed her by failing to live up to his promises due to the excessive time he spent touring with MISSIO, which kept him away from her: “I once made you a simple promise, that I would share my dreams with you. Maybe this all became a big mess when everything I dreamed came true. Hurting people, hurt people, it’s hard to understand. There’s a million ways to fix us, screaming like a broken man. Vagabond, is that what you want? I’m a vagabond, is that what you want?“
The second track “Losing My Mind (Stripped)” shaves a minute off the original, which features a bold, beat-driven melody and dramatic otherworldly synths. The new stripped-down version is more atmospheric and dreamy, with lovely plucked guitar notes and strings. Yet it still retains some of the dark overtones of the original, this time beautifully expressed through cinematic synth bass and melancholy piano keys. The spare lyrics speak from the viewpoint of someone losing their grip on reality, thinking back on happier times: “On dreary days, I like to think about the joy that I had as a young and reckless kid. On dreary days, I used to drown it out. A sociopath ’cause I had nothing left to give.” Matthew’s vocals in the chorus are electronically altered to the point where they sound like horns, making the lyrics barely recognizable: “I’m losing, I’m losing, I’m losing my mind. I’m fighting, I’m fighting, I’m fighting for more time.”
My favorite track on the EP is “Roman Empire (Stripped)“, both for its stunning arrangement and biting lyrics. The somber piano and strings are utterly captivating, accompanied by throbbing ethereal synths, all of which create a hauntingly beautiful soundscape. The lyrics are a scathing denunciation of powerful corporate interests and corrupt government leaders with authoritarian tendencies (Trump administration anyone?), equating them with the ill-fated Roman Empire: “You’re building cities on the backs of all the people working hard to build a home with memories. This moral ground you think you own is frankly dangerous when you’re ripping kids away from what they need. Roman Empire is what you are, Roman Empire is who you are. You’re an empire, Darkest of empires, The Roman Empire.” Two thirds of the way into the song, the music and mood turn more introspective, with Matthew questioning God’s existence: “What if God’s not real and everything we are is just a moment here where we’re only growing older? What if God is real and everything I’ve done pushed me down this path, and it’s only growing colder?“
I adore the original album version of “Can You Feel The Sun“, with its lush and bold sweeping orchestration, but the stripped down version is equally beautiful. The gorgeous instrumentals are highlighted by strummed acoustic guitar, warm piano keys and blissful strings, all melding together to produce a thoroughly enchanting backdrop for Matthew’s sublime ethereal vocals. I realize I’m overusing the words ‘gorgeous’, ‘stunning’ and ‘beautiful’, but damn it, they bear repeating for every track! The introspective lyrics speak to reassessing one’s prejudices and shortcomings, and trying to be more open-minded and accepting: “Below the willow tree is where I hide the darkest parts of me. They’re hiding underneath the broken lies that I just still believe. Below the willow tree is where I sit and hate on my enemies. I drown ’em in my dreams, I think it’s me who needs some humility.”
The fifth track “Do You Realize??” is a stripped-down reworking of the beloved original by American psychedelic rock band The Flaming Lips, using only four verses from the beginning of the song. But truth be told, it doesn’t really feel stripped at all, as it builds to a cinematic orchestral crescendo in the middle, before calming down to only a somber piano note as the song fades out. In his breathy vocals, Matthew softly asks seemingly simple questions that are actually filled with deep meaning: “Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face? Do you realize we’re floating in space? Do you realize that happiness makes you cry? Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?“
What more can I add, except to say that Skeletons: Part III is a bewitching little slice of sonic heaven. I love MISSIO, and hope at least some of my readers will love and appreciate their music even half as much as I do.
Johnny Ritchie is an engaging and thoughtful young singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist I recently learned of when he reached out to me about his song “Social Robots“. Born and raised in Wabash, Indiana and now based in Great Falls, Montana, Johnny has had a lifelong interest in, and love for, music. He started learning to play piano and drums as a young child, and went on to study Contemporary, Urban, and Popular Music at Columbia College Chicago, and last year earned a B.A. degree in Music at Western Michigan University. He now has his own business teaching others to play piano, keyboards and drums, as well as providing lessons in music theory, songwriting and improvisation.
Released on March 19th, “Social Robots” is Johnny’s debut single. He states it was “inspired by human behavior regarding social media consumption following the tragedy of the shooting at Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, FL in 2018.” In a recent interview with Noah | MUA, Johnny explained that he originally wrote the song three years ago as a way for him to process the tragic event, and never planned on releasing the song as a single. But the events and traumas of the past year led him to decide to release it after all, as the lyrics seemed especially relevant to the times.
For the song, Johnny played piano and drums, and sang vocals, with guitar played by Charlie Petralia, and bass by Dale Guernsey. The track was produced by fellow Columbia College Chicago alumnus Brett Grant, who’s own single “Reanimate” I wrote about just last week (it was after seeing that review that Johnny reached out to me). The beautiful artwork for the single was created by Attie Schuler, who Johnny attended high school with in Wabash.
The song opens with sounds of a phone ringing, accompanied by a man’s voice slowed down to the point where it sounds creepy and disturbing as he speaks the first stanza addressing the pernicious effects of social media:
It is not the habit which addicts me, But rather the enveloping feeling of escape. It digs its fangs into my brain, Slowly spreading its roots, Hooking me eternally.
The song then abruptly transitions in both tone and feel, as Johnny sings his pointed lyrics about how we become social media robots to sounds of his lovely but melancholic piano keys. Soon Charlie’s chiming guitar, Dale’s subtle bass, and Johnny’s measured drumbeats enter the mix, creating a resounding backdrop for his plaintive vocals that grow more impassioned as the song progresses, only to calm back down at the end as he sings the final line “We’re all sad motherfuckers” with a sense of bitter resignation.
“Social Robots” is a fascinating and brilliant song, both musically and lyrically. While not immediately catchy or melodic, it has an unusual meandering flow that’s quite compelling, keeping a firm grasp on our interest as the song proceeds and the narrative unfolds. It’s an impressive debut from this promising young artist, and I can’t wait to hear more of Mr. Ritchie’s music.
Shackles on all our lives Not on our wrists but on our minds Tiny little screens with big fat lies of light Oh don’t you think Yeah don’t you mind Just keep on scrolling you’ll be alright
Distractions, I see them in every way They tell us the right thoughts to think and the words to say But nobody ever goes outside to play No don’t you think Yeah don’t you pray Just pretend like it’s still a beautiful day
Tell me no, we’ll see about that Kick me down, I’m wiser if I don’t fight back Oh I’ll learn from you and be better off You may laugh or scoff but just go jerk off You robot, you sad motherfucker
The crutches we lean on everywhere They help us breathe in all this polluted air They help us choose our favorite style of hair Oh don’t you think Yeah don’t you care Just be a copy and no one stares
The voices we seek out for advice We’re taking all their bullshit as something that’s wise But nobody is ever thinking twice So don’t you blink Just take your vice Just play your part, you’ll be alright
Robots looking for something that’s real They’re all trying to think out what to feel And kisses help, and so do hugs And not to mention all the drugs But we’re all robots We’re all tied up in the same cords from our own plugs We’re all robots We’re all sad motherfuckers
ECLECTIC MUSIC LOVER 