Magdalena Bay: A Victory Lap Worth the Delay?
by Kate Weissenberger
A little over a year after the release of their sophomore album, Imaginal Disk, Magdalena Bay have returned to the scene with two new tracks, dreamily entitled “Second Sleep” and “Star Eyes”. The duo have tentatively reached into realms of pop musicality that they left previously unexplored while remaining true to the themes found within both their debut LP, Mercurial World, and their most recent album, Imaginal Disk.
My initial impression of the new songs was informed by a quote shared by Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin, the creative team behind Magdalena Bay, in a press statement made shortly before the singles were released. There, they described the tracks as “two songs we made around the end of Imaginal Disk—both a sort of spiritual successor to the album’s mood and emotional arc.” It is necessary, then, to discuss Imaginal Disk as an intrinsic part of the mythology behind “Second Sleep” and “Star Eyes”.
Upon first listening to Imaginal Disk last year, I was astounded that the album, which I had only heard described as a danceable record with cool production, was rife with themes of narcissism. You’re telling me, I thought, that the lead single for this album is one in which the narrator suffers from feelings of severe inadequacy, then implies that she has become the sole ideal by which to live? You’re telling me the second song talks about self-destruction in tandem with desperation for affection? There is absolutely no way you’re telling me that what is arguably the best song on the album discusses leaving unbearable burdens on your offspring, then imploring them to cry for you. In fact, that’s exactly what happens, and yet it goes unnoticed. The blindingly bright soundscape left so many completely blind to the blatant and unrelenting narcissism that permeates the record.
Instead, the internet has borne witness to a stampede of quirked-up webheads obsessed with Magdalena Bay’s rose-tinted vision of the internet of the early-aughts. Amateur music critics have uncovered a well-worn altar upon which only one word can be made out—“production”—and have come to worship at it once more. The world has been blessed with individuals who claim to have streamed Imaginal Disk twenty thousand times (and yes, it is, in fact, impossible to complete such a feat within one year.)
On September twenty-sixth, about thirteen months after the release of Imaginal Disk, I found myself met with a horde of rabid fans ready to treat any Magdalena Bay release as a masterpiece transmitted straight from God’s brain to Mica Tenenbaum’s mouth…and two new songs.
I couldn’t help but hope after reading Tenenbaum and Lewin’s press statement that the aspect of Imaginal Disk that was most fascinating to me would somehow live on in the duo’s new projects. I wanted something malicious, thinly hidden behind a shiny veneer. I wanted songs dripping with equal parts self-obsession and self-loathing. I wanted a silver tongue, and I wanted to be sprayed with mercury droplets. In this regard, they certainly do not disappoint.
The first track, "Second Sleep", showcases the duo’s newfound funk sensibilities, with sleek vocal lines leading into growths of synthesizers, strings, and guitars, each feeding into each other like an ouroboros. It is, however, indecisive about its change, building and crashing down repeatedly without real catharsis. The last thing we hear from Tenenbaum is literally a sigh, as though she knows the odd push-and-pull structure doesn’t particularly serve the song well. Lyrically, “Second Sleep” focuses on intense self-hatred. Pleas for anesthetization, prayers for widespread destruction, and descriptions of love as something endlessly damaging are supplemented by the idea that the narrator is, without question, going to hell—and dragging others down with her. The days are burdensome, and the narrator has made it her mission to escape them through sleep, through annihilation, through death.
“Star Eyes”, on the other hand, begins with a Magdalena Bay hallmark: a lovely piano line that is reminiscent of the Milky Way as it bleeds across the sky. The fluttering saxophone that dances its way into the soundscape is very much a welcome addition to the track. The same goes for the unique vocal performance; it’s unlike anything I’ve previously heard from Tenenbaum. She speaks of suffering without sounding strained, and her glossy vocals complement the lyrical content perfectly. As she settles back into her typical range in the chorus, the hopelessness of the first verse melts into a recognition of the value of simply facing the darkness with all of the light you can muster. It’s a truly beautiful track.
I worry, though, that the specters of Imaginal Disk’s mischaracterization will haunt Magdalena Bay’s future work. This is already prevalent within amateur reviews of the singles, with the same ritualistic veneration of the oh-so-mysterious production stamped across each two cents thrown on the table. It’s a disservice to the mastery of pop music Magdalena Bay exhibits time and time again to define them by something so nebulous.
I love Magdalena Bay, and both “Second Sleep” and “Star Eyes” are excellent additions to an already flourishing catalog. It breaks my heart to see such brilliance dulled by the reductive characterizations of the duo’s work perpetuated in the realm of popular music discourse. Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin do not forget themselves; they clearly have a strong artistic vision that is worthy of thoughtful analysis. As they continue to mature as artists, I can only hope that their audience will begin to provide.