ASSASSUN Explores An Uncanny Valley with Chronic Quicksand Depression Morning

I once worked in a restaurant that served a peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich; at least once a day a customer made a nauseated face and asked me if anyone actually ordered it. I always explained that we often enjoy contradictory flavors. The Elvis, as we called it, merely combined sweet and salty, soft and crunchy, like the sandwich equivalent of a chocolate covered pretzel. We find this everywhere, from mango habanero buffalo wings to most Indian food, but still some combinations, no matter how delicious they ultimately taste, can still seem like strange ideas at first.

This was not an image you expected to see in a music review, was it?

I thought about this while absorbing ASSASSUN’s new LP, Chronic Quicksand Depression Morning. Vlimmer’s Alexander Leonard Donat has long boasted a reputation for strange music that defies and denies classification, and this synth-tinged side project proves no different in its sophomore release. Donat pairs standard synth-pop sounds with aggressive, pulsing beats and shouted lyrics more at home in a basement punk show than a dance club. This results in an almost familiar sound; we’re about 3 distorted layers away from industrial or harsh EBM. However, the cleanliness of the synths and vocals leaves us in an uncanny valley between familiar genres—just different enough to be disconcerting. Donat thrives on the unease of his listeners, doubling down with powerful imagery that bristles in all the right ways.

This is not the face of a man who shies away from uncomfortable emotions.

Such a gutsy experiment can lead to uneven results, and some tracks definitely land better than others. But when Donat lands, he does so with the poise and confidence of someone unafraid to challenge widely-held beliefs on key, song structure, and mixing. “The Ivories and I” drones like a classic Xymox track on a boombox with dying batteries, which fits the longing the lyrics deliver. “Shapeshifters” gives me electronic proto-industrial vibes, while “Joie de Vivre” is an 80s coming of age movie dragged through the gravel until it finally admits what reality actually looks like. When ASSASSUN brings his A game, we don’t just listen; the music transforms us with introspective emotions poured into our ears. I won’t claim it’s for everyone, but I will absolutely fight for Chronic Quicksand Depression Morning’s inclusion as a work of art.

Standout Track – “Fear Doubled: I’m not sure anything in this album actually works in a club DJ set, but damn I would dance to this live. The synth pads give us a false sense of relaxed hope before joining the rest of this railroad song in pushing us over the edge. Sounding like a poisoned Fad Gadget, the music holds up Donat, who almost shouts at us before disdainly uttering, “Look what they’ve done to you.” Somewhere between a Nitzer Ebb chant song and a lecture, “Fear Doubled” echoes the disappointment a lot of us feel with current situations, including ourselves. I’d almost call it the pop song of the album; it uses more structure and hooks than most of the release. But Donat isn’t interested in being popular. He’s going to deliver a message whether we’re listening or not.

The Sold Kingdom Offers Up A Soul As Dark Entertainment On Amethyst Deceiver

“I know I’m not quite in the pocket genre-wise,” L. Alexandra Manuel wrote to me when sending over Amethyst Deceiver, the latest album from her piano-heavy project Sold Kingdom. Despite this warning, I gave the otherwise unpromoted release from late 2022 a try, if just because I love supporting my Virginian musicians. I thus discovered that Manuel was wrong in that most delightful way: this is absolutely my bag and it needs to be yours too.

I drink my booze out of that same cup…

Manuel’s own lyrics sum up why Amethyst Deceiver succeeds musically in a variety of genres: “I used to think the rules should be upheld / Whether or not I played by them myself” (“Glamorous”). Manuel knows the regulations for piano singer/songwriter music, even playing by them sometimes, but usually poisons traditional pop, folk, and cabaret with dark twists. Subtle noise, troubling synths, soul-tingling harmonies, and diminished notes turn simple melancholy into depthless despair and joy into a nightmare. What remains is the soundtrack to every horror-movie carnival stripped down to its most distilled elements.

However, this side-show doesn’t showcase macabre monsters. Manuel instead leads us through a much more frightening tour: her insecurities, struggles, and the people who subjugate under pretenses of allyship. Anyone who has struggled with neurodivergence—walking the line between self-preservation and mastering social intricacies—will see themselves in “Affliction #2” and “Practicing Sabina,” as Manuel dissects herself with equal parts criticism and compassion. I locked on immediately to “Boys Club Masquerade,” which eviscerates those who show support “only until it cramps you.” This sentiment bookends well with the devastating last track, “The Very Same Poison;” Manuel draws a throughline from how someone who suffered the same oppression could shift into an oppressor themself. In all cases, the lyrics are blunt, cutting, and perhaps sometimes too on the nose.

Also, any song that quotes Murray Head is a-okay in my book.

If I have one complaint, it’s that most tracks on Amethyst Deceiver aren’t long enough. Manuel ignores traditional pop structure for better or for worse, ending songs once she’s said all she needs. While lyrically complete, this does mean I’m switching to a new tune right as I’ve started swaying to the previous one. I’m enjoying the experience so much that I don’t want it to end, but dealing with harsh truths, including endings, definitely runs through the whole record. Perhaps Manuel is making sure I learn the lesson.

Standout Track – “Yearning for Yearning”: A two-part examination of the inability to ever feel at home with anyone, the song oozes unease. First, a disquieting acapella disconcerts with beautiful, eerie harmonie as Manuel recounts the various outside forces which leave her knowing she “will always be a stranger.” Yet the second half, focusing on how her own behavior distances her, bristles in the opposite fashion. The vocals are now more direct, as clear with us as she is being with herself, while the piano provides a wonderful discord like something out of early Das Ich. There’s a playfulness to this ghostly soundtrack—a strange creature playing with its helpless food. In this case, Manuel is both devourer and meal; we cannot dare look away as we watch.

Music Making My March Magical

While it’s true that I prefer reviewing full EPs/albums, the digital age of streaming playlists and Bandcamp Fridays have returned us to the Age of the Single™. Thus what I tend to find in my emails and trawling are standalone tracks, and I would probably lose sleep if I didn’t bring some of them to your attention. Therefore, here’s a list of 5 tunes, either released singularly or standing out from their respective albums, that I’m labeling “don’t miss” for March.

Dark Narrows – Second Hand Tears

This image definitely counts as a party foul.

With their new album My Last Party, Dark Narrows proves the post-punk revival won’t stop in 2023. I’m calling it: “Second Hand Tears” is going to be the breakout hit from this release. The Maryland outfit assembles everything needed for a pop-goth dance floor banger, from punchy bass and dreamy guitars to the perfect sing-along hook with unexpected, descriptive imagery. I’ve been playing this on repeat for the past four days.

Attrition – The Switch

Martin is pondering just how many air filters he needs for this room.

Oh my stars and garters! Martin Bowes and Julia Waller have joined up together again for the first time in 20 years and I couldn’t be happier. Neither have lost their talent for spooky, atmospheric music that chills the spine, but I’m also tapping my feet to this lively production. A lesser act would simply recreate the sound of yesteryear for a quick nostalgia trip, but Attrition instead compounds a lifetime of experience into an expertly constructed romp through the darkest parts of electronic music, leaving me breathless by the end of the recording and desperately looking forward to the upcoming Black Maria.

Josie Pace – Brain-dead

Aw man… Someone’s been scribbling in my yearbook again.

Last year I appeared on Space Couch and tackled the monolithic task of naming the best up-and-coming industrial acts. Thing is, mentioning Josie Pace as one of them came easily, and sure enough, she found herself performing on TV and opening for an extensive tour with Aesthetic Perfection, gaining a whole new following in the process. She capitalizes on that momentum now with a destructive single that pounds its listeners into dust. Pace continues to prove guitars are optional for industrial, delivering the concussive force of a hard rock power anthem with keyboard alone. Easily-chanted lyrics slowly dissolve into disturbing visions, a catharsis the heavy music gladly delivers.

Dead Cool – Stranger Kind

“Hello. We’d like to talk to you about our lord and savior Andrew Eldritch.”

Wilmington’s Johnny and Angela Yeagher excel at producing efficient, classic-sounding synthpop, and now they try their hands at making a sing-along anthem for all the weird ones in the world. These club hymns often pose a challenge because the lyrics need to be all-encompassing without being meaningless. Dead Cool takes a unique path by transforming a silly joke we’ve all spoken to our fellow black-clad friends and crafting it into the hook over a foreboding synth line. The earnestly sung, “Don’t let the sun blind your eyes,” transforms into the perfect rallying cry, combining the introspection and self-mocking humor that are both cornerstones of the goth/industrial aesthetic.

Baltes & Zäyn – A Song of Your Name

The death of you and everyone you know seems like the perfect first date to me, but I’m just a hopeless romantic.

Despite the fact that I totally look the part, I’m not a huge anime nerd, so I haven’t seen the animation this song references. Furthermore, I’m not usually a fan of songs that try to tell a story someone else has already told, so “A Song of Your Name” had a high mountain to climb before I even listened to it. Luckily, this is Baltes & Zäyn, whose “Apocalyptech,” recounting scenes from Neon Genesis Evangelion, gripped me last year and never let go. Lucian Zäyn delicately weaves the story into a relatable, exposed melody that’s almost heartbreaking, exemplified by Steve Baltes’s cinematic score underneath. I didn’t have “synthpop power ballad about kami-manipulated young love” on my Bingo card for March singles, but apparently I should have.

Pictured: somehow not a huge anime nerd.

What about you? What’s on your playlist for March?

Sapphira Vee Becomes a Genre Blender with Trippy

Back in the ancient past (2010 or so), a young, devilishly handsome DJ interviewed William Faith and asked if he had any advice for up-and-coming artists. Faith recounted the difficulty of crafting a truly original sound and suggested focusing on combining influences in hitherto unseen ways—the more disparate the inspirations, the better. After all, a smoothie can taste wholly different from its ingredients; the blending creates something new.

Trippy | Sapphira Vee (bandcamp.com)

This conversation played on repeat in my head as I dug into Trippy, the latest release from New York’s Sapphira Vee. Already known for experimenting with a variety of goth/industrial subgenres, Vee tries on trip hop for her new EP. She admits the four songs might not be “pure” trip hop, and I agree; while Vee wears the Massive Attack, Sneaker Pimps, and Tricky influences on her sleeve, these inspirations cling to her goth/industrial roots, forming a unique growth for her most distinctive release yet.

Four different artists join Vee—one for each song—yet the choice to use trip hop as a springboard creates a singular style despite each performer’s varying backgrounds. Cis Machina and Dogtablet both favor slower hip hop beats mixed with stringed instruments straight out of a Portishead single, while 2Bit Heroes delivers a Massive Attack-inspired synth wave and John D Norten relies on  traditional bass, guitar, and strings. Yet in all cases, the mood reminds me of early 2000s goth rock or, in the case of “Tangential,” industrial. Maybe it’s the droning strings, minimalist staccato riffs blended with held guitar, or the delicate use of spooky piano that jogs my memory, but to combine this atmosphere with a more traditional trip-hop backbone results in a sound both familiar and breathtakingly fresh. In the post-punk revival of the past 5 years, any act that can reshape history in a way that inspires new possibilities with sounds that came before rather than simply rehashing them deserves recognition. Vee and all her co-conspirators on Trippy: consider yourself recognized.

You want to ask, “Which Portishead single?” but you already know.

The biggest lesson Vee gains from trip hop, however, is how to do more with less. Goth and industrial prefer bombastic deliveries, with melodramatic melancholy defining the former while the latter prefers explosive anger. Yet even Trippy’s cover image implies a muted efficiency: a simple picture of Vee in a hoodie subtly morphs into a mind-bending waterscape easily missed at first glance. In the same light, no screamed or crooned theatrics are on display here; Vee’s lyrics are sung half-hushed, bordering on whispers or spoken word. She mostly abandons overwrought metaphors; while some staple tropes such as “what goes around comes around” and the tried-and-true comparison to bait fishing pop up, Vee spends most of her time musing on personal issues rather than aiming for some wide, universal circumstance. Thus, Trippy stands as possibly her most vulnerable release: no extra flash or flair, just a woman and her friends making music they love about themselves.

Standout Track – “Blindsight”: The most obvious trip hop song on the EP, Dogtablet’s collaboration results in a short, potent jam showcasing Vee’s reserved but effective lyrics. There’s just enough left vague to allow for opposed interpretations; either Vee sings about a desperate—though terrifying—need for vulnerable openness or she uses the illusion of exposure to safely manipulate any she might fear. Leaving the song on loop results in introspection that will eat away more of your day than you might realize.