Gold Soundz No. 4, It Don’t Get Any Golder Than This
by Sebastian Cruz, Staff Writer
PRAISE FOR “Gold Soundz: A Biweekly New Music Bulletin”:
“Pavement reference.” - Henry Boehm, contributor and apprentice.
“lmao.” (at least twice in the Google Doc comments) - Cat “Catherine” Gilligan, A+C section head and heathen.
“I like how you’re a baby every time.” - Hudson Kassen, acknowledged member of the community and career best boy.
“My [REDACTED] happens soon bro, you gotta review it, it’s gonna be flames, trust trust trust.” - Anonymous Musician Friend and real hustler.
“You get paid for this?” - Mom, mom.
“You get paid for this!” - Dad, etc.
IN PRINT NOVEMBER 14th-ish
bar italia - Some Like It Hot
As someone who, perhaps foolishly, believes in the redemptive power of indie rock and roll, it’s often e gratifying to be delivered a real fucking stinker from a once-promising group of musicians. bar italia’s take on Zoomer rock calling cards—intentionally bad mixing, deliberately incoherent vibe, awful song titles—made them an admittedly titillating flavor-of-the-month group somewhat bizarrely on Dean Blunt’s Skool of Kool record label. However, as this hot pile of monkey butter-ass album demonstrates, the shtick was bound to get old at some point. Some Like It Hot is, in terms of indie rock formulae, very simple. With enough time and semi-successful releases under their belt, bands often begin to “serious up” their sound for that extra bit of mass appeal. Of course, this is assuming that the band had strong enough tunes in the past to justify clearing out the murk and mystery. Oops! Better luck next album, kool kats.
Recommended if you’re… So chic you never have to listen to music you enjoy.
Listen to: “rooster”
Sudan Archives - THE BPM
My journalistic license affords me the ability to spew a lot of hyperbole. What can I say, I love the melodrama. However, it does mean that I have to make it extra, extra, excruciatingly clear when something out there is exemplary. Make no mistake, little readers: Sudan Archive’s The BPM is exemplary. Exemplary in the sense that when you pit it against any other record of its ilk from this year, it blows them all out of the water. Is it odd of me to point out how labored these songs sound? It shouldn’t be any less of a compliment to say that Ms. Archives and her merry posse of production rats make this music sound so effortful rather than effortless. And I think that the record gets to name itself after a fundamental dance music signifier, solely because of how it refracts the beats-per-minute into such wild, immaculate-sounding colors. And it bangs. And she plays violin on over half the songs.
Recommended if you’re… Looking for something to believe in.
Listen to: “A BUG’S LIFE”
Snocaps - Snocaps
I just don’t know what to do with myself here. The recurrence of alternative country or whatever you want to call this current crop of twangy, sangy rock music in this column alone is borderline suspicious. One would think I’m getting bankrolled by the Asheville hipster cabal. Waxahatchee (Katie Crutchfield), her (twin!) sister Allison, with perennial favorite shag-haired dorkus Michael Jackson Lenderman behind the scenes, produce a snappy thirty-minutes-and-change album that will ruffle no feathers and will not convert any nonbelievers. The solidity of this project indicates but one thing: if this very steady, charming record is somehow one of the weakest of its type released this year, then we’re living in sweet times.
Recommended if you’re… Pavlovianly attached to any of the names I just mentioned.
Listen to: “Cherry Hard Candy”
Chat Pile & Hayden Pedigo - In the Earth Again
It’s about time that we got something truly audacious, and it feels appropriate that a returning character for this column should be the one achieving such audacity. The conceit is as obvious as it is genius; a sludge metal group from Oklahoma City and their new next-door neighbor, the silk-fingered Pedigo (true story.) Pedigo slides in his shimmering strums ‘neath Chat Pile’s torrential mudshowers, and, surprisingly, Pedigo sands down the band’s curdled edges for something more haunting and genuinely tuneful, such as the absolutely enchanting “The Magic of the World” and the desolate “A Tear for Lucas”. Could it be a smidgen more filled out, or a tad less lopsided? Without a doubt; but based on the quality of the music alone, it is far from just a proof of concept.
Recommended if you’re… AHHHH ON FIRE HELP HELP HELP!!!!!!!
Listen to: “Radioactive Dreams”
Tame Impala - Deadbeat
I admittedly spilled so much ink on bar italia’s nothingburger of a sellout record that I almost forgot that I had to rip Kevin Parker a new one for what he’s executed here. And executed is really the operative word; poor ol’ KP has taken his slightly dogged “decent band” cred, strapped it to the electric chair and fried it to kingdom come. Injected it with piss. Chopped its head off with a few labored swings. If THE BPM was a dance music mitzvah worthy of (my own) high recommendation, Deadbeat can be understood as its mirror opposite. This album is full of wretched, goopy dreck that plays to none of Parker’s narrow strengths; it is an embarrassment to refer to the songs on this record as “house” music, or indeed “music” at all. Songs for their own firing squad.
Recommended if you’re… Kevin Parker in need of a dose of reality.
Listen to: me. If you’re out there, Tamevin Imparker, I’m letting you know that I will not be so forgiving next time. You better pony up, Vengaboy, because this is your last chance to do something right, so do it. Signed Sebastian H.W. Cruz, Grape Staff Writer and legal infant.
