Pity Sex: One of Ann Arbor’s Finest (Former) Indie Bands

 

Pity Sex is a really great band name. It brings to mind the image of a grimy hardcore punk band known for their moshpits and blistering sound. That is not the kind of band Pity Sex was. Sure, their music is full of noise, but it’s far too sweet and melodic to be considered anything close to hardcore, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. While they weren’t the most influential or captivating band in the scene, they put out some good stuff in the five short years they were active.

Pity Sex formed in 2011 in Ann Arbor, Michigan, as part of a local emo revival birthed out of Sigma Phi, also known as Metal Frat. Their core lineup of Sean St. Charles on drums, Brandan Pierce on bass, and Britty Drake and Brennan Greaves sharing guitar and vocal duties remained consistent until Drake left the band in 2016. After a split cassette with fellow Ann Arbor band Brave Bird, the band released their 2013 debut EP, Dark World. In brief, it’s a short, solid set of songs that mainly dabble in indie rock and shoegaze, though it’s tinged with 90s alt rock and emo sensibilities, at their most cloying sounding a bit like Pinkerton-era Weezer. The band hadn’t really honed their sound at this early point in their career, which made them sound a bit one-dimensional, but there’s something to be said about how well they portray adolescent angst and desire in the dreamy walls of sound and dramatic vocal tradeoffs between Greaves and Drake. Their most well-known song, “Dogwalk”, also came from this EP, and it makes sense why it had such popularity. It’s got a loose, infectious vibe characterized by a slinky guitar line that transforms into brittle noise on the chorus, as well as a catchy vocal melody and an admirably amateur-ish performance. The high-energy instrumental bridge is a nice, unexpected moment, too.

In the same year, they released their debut album, Feast of Love on notable indie label Run For Cover Records. This record saw them operating in much of the same sounds as their EP, with some notable improvements. Opening song “Wind-Up” doesn’t reinvent the shoegaze wheel, but it’s some of the band’s best songwriting, most noticeable in the earworm hook and inventive guitar and bass interplay. “Sedated” and “Honey Pot” are similarly bold and infectious (and actually transition into each other quite nicely!), though the real highlight comes in the mid-album moment of respite “Hollow Body”. The band strips things back to just gentle guitar arpeggios and Drake’s dreamy vocals, and it’s such a refreshing change of pace. It’s simple, elegant, and absolutely mesmerizing. I would have loved to hear them explore this lighter sound more in their time as a band.

Following the release of their debut, Pity Sex toured with some pretty impressive acts in the scene, including Basement, Tigers Jaw, and Code Orange side project Adventures. Following this, they released what would be their final album before going on an indefinite hiatus, White Hot Moon. As with their other releases, it’s an enjoyable, bright record with several highlights (the title track is especially great in its heaviness), but suffers from much of the same problems as well. They had certainly mastered the lo-fi, hazy shoegaze/dream pop sound reminiscent of classic acts like My Bloody Valentine, but throughout their career, they failed to innovate and move past their influences into their own distinct sound. It’s a shame their career was so short-lived; I think it would have been interesting to see how they may have evolved with future releases, especially as they became more established musicians, though I admire their DIY, fledgling spirit. Nonetheless, if you’re looking for music by some Ann Arbor natives, or just some solid music to throw on in the background at a party (or makeout session, if you’re feeling romantic), Pity Sex is a great choice. Let’s hope they reunite for some shows when those are a thing again.

 

Sidenote: I also think all their album artwork is beautiful!

 

Pity Sex Dark World.png

 

 

Dark World EP  (2013)

Songs to check out: “When You’re Around”, “Dogwalk”

 

 

 

 

 

Feast of Love  (2013)

Songs to check out: “Wind-Up”, “Hollow Body”, “Sedated”, “Honey Pot”

 

 

 

 

 

White Hot Moon  (2016)

Songs to check out: “What Might Soothe You?”, “Plum”, “Nothing Rips Through Me”, “White Hot Moon”

 

 

Album Review: Little Oblivions – Julien Baker

Little Oblivions

Matador (2021)

Julien Baker has always been somewhat of a paradox. She’s an openly queer woman who also happens to be Christian and from the South, specifically Tennessee. She writes simple, beautiful songs about complex topics like human nature and addiction. It seems to work for her, though, which is especially true on this new record, her third following two well-received albums and an EP with former tourmates Lucy Dacus and Phoebe Bridgers as the indie supergroup boygenius. I found her 2015 debut Sprained Ankle and 2017 follow-up Turn Out the Lights to be enjoyably raw, devastating listens, but I always wanted her to expand her sound from the simple guitar-and-vocals approach she’s known for.

Little Oblivions serves as a full reinvention of Baker’s sound; it’s still her own, but presented in a much bolder, expansive package. This is largely due to Baker’s talents as a multi-instrumentalist: in addition to producing it, she plays nearly every instrument on the album, including guitar, bass, drums, piano, mandolin, banjo, and more. Simply put, it sounds massive, as if all the emotions contained in her lyrics have finally found an equivalent in the music itself. This evolution is immediately clear on the opener, “Hardline”, which, frankly, is one of the best songs she’s ever written. I’d even say it’s an early contender for song of the year. The song opens with harsh, blaring organ chords, an unexpected move that works incredibly well. Like much of Baker’s work, the song is an emotional powerhouse, but this one truly feels like it, using atmosphere and dynamics in a way her other tracks just didn’t explore. The drums are hard-hitting, the synths and guitars are bittersweet and heavy, and Baker’s vocals are better than ever. The lyrics are even more devastating than usual; one line I keep coming back to for its bluntness is when she asks, “Would you hit me this hard if I were a boy?”. It’s as good of an intro one could ask for.

From this point on, the album is consistently dense and troubled. It sticks fairly closely to the lush indie rock sound presented on the aforementioned opener, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because for Baker, it’s all pretty new territory. Early album highlight “Relative Fiction” is about as groovy as a Julien Baker song could sound, all tight drums and light melodies, though it still holds onto her trademark introspection and self-deprecation in the lyrics. A bit later, Bridgers and Dacus lend their vocals to “Favor”, though it doesn’t exactly sound like a boygenius song. It’s actually a hazy, intoxicating ballad depicting the inherent drama and self-disparagement that comes when admitting guilt: If I didn’t have a mean bone in my body, I’d find some other way to cause you pain / I won’t bother telling you I’m sorry for something that I’m gonna do again”. Other personal favorites include the driving lead single “Faith Healer”, as well as sparse piano ballad “Song in E”, which provides a much-needed moment of calm on the album.

However, as much as I like it, I don’t think this album is without its flaws. The main issue I have with it is I find the mix to be a bit smothering at times in its densely layered style. I think the record would benefit from giving all the different sounds some space and thus allowing it to have a vast, open sound. That isn’t to say I think it sounds bad or is poorly produced; it’s a gorgeous listening experience, albeit a bit disorienting. On a similar note, I would have liked there to be a greater focus on balance in terms of song intensity. There aren’t many songs that allow the listener to just breathe for a second, which perhaps is intentional given the emotional content of the record. When listening to the album in preparation for this review, I found myself repeatedly coming back to those little moments of simplicity on the album: the acoustic arpeggios in the midsection of “Highlight Reel”, the buildup of muted guitar and hushed vocals on “Heatwave”, all of “Song in E”. While I think Baker can definitely pull off the full-band sound, I admittedly miss the intimate nature of her earlier work. The bigger sound can take away from the raw power and beauty of her vocals and writing, though it is clear from the lyrics that she is no less vulnerable in her music.

All in all, Little Oblivions is a great record from a great artist. It’s a huge artistic leap, and although I’d argue she hasn’t completely mastered the larger sound, I believe it’s definitely something she can and will master on future releases. The writing is better on some songs than others, but it’s incredibly solid as a whole. It has a cohesive, enveloping sound throughout, like a night spent lying in bed, dissociating in the dark. Her ability to write such vulnerable, ruminative lyrics is a testament not only to her musicianship, but her devotion to near-constant self-examination and betterment as well. I honestly could have written a whole other post on her lyrics, and perhaps I will in the future. Most importantly, while I still love the uneasy nature of her previous work, she sounds confident as ever on this album, which I cannot help but admire. Everything here, from the lyrics to the melodies to the instrumental presentation, cements Julien Baker’s status as one of the most honest, brilliant songwriters out there today. It’s truly life-affirming stuff, and I highly recommend it.

~~~

Side note: I’ll be posting a chart of the albums I’ve been listening to at the end of each month on here. Here’s what I listened to in February! What have you been listening to?

 

An Introduction in 5 Songs

Hello! I’m Jackson, and this is my weekly music column, -core. As you all will primarily be getting to know me through my musical opinions and the like, I figured what better way to introduce myself than with some songs? Before I do that, though, here’s a bit about me and why I started this column. I’ve been into music for most of my life. As with many others, I grew up hearing music on the radio and from my parents, usually classic rock, 80s hits, and 2000s pop. However, it wasn’t until my early teenage years that I was exposed to the emo and punk music that eventually led me to where I am today. Along with being an amateur musician myself, I’ve always found music and the discussion around it fascinating, especially in the online music criticism community that’s grown in recent years. Talking about music with others is one of my greatest joys, and one of my hopes for this column is to get some good conversations started around music. In brief, for this column I’ll be covering new and not-so-new releases, local artists, specific genres / eras, and whatever else interests me. I’m entirely open to feedback and suggestions, so if there’s an artist, album, or anything else you’d like me to talk about, let me know!

Now, with that out of the way, here are five of my favorite songs at the moment.

1. Oblivion – Grimes

Starting off my current favorites list is “Oblivion”, the famed single from Grimes’ 2012 record Visions. I’ve encountered people (including my former self) who question the indie credentials of enjoying an artist’s most popular song, but in many cases, including this one, there’s a good reason why that certain song is so popular. Despite being nearly 10 years old, “Oblivion” is a futuristic work of genius, in both its production and songwriting. The stuttering beat that loops through the majority of the song is instantly ear-grabbing. The bright pianos in the post-chorus and the vocal samples that dominate the outro are lovely touches as well, all combining to create a rich, blissful sonic landscape. Yet the real appeal lies in Grimes’ vocals, which weave through the instrumental with an airy but effective presence. Add in the lyrical detail of her attempts at empowerment following a horrific assault, and you’ve got one of the most compelling pop songs of the past decade.

2. Easy/Lucky/Free – Bright Eyes

I had long been aware of Conor Oberst and his musical endeavors (Desaparecidos, Better Oblivion Community Center, etc), but had never taken the time to check out his main project, Bright Eyes. I recently listened to their pair of 2005 albums, I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn, this song being the closing track on the latter, and I’ve been unable to stop coming back to it. It’s a unique song for Bright Eyes in that it sounds huge, filled with dreamy guitars, swaying grooves, and an irresistible, yearning vocal melody. Outside of the strange inclusion of a sample of a baby crying, it could almost be a Beach House song. The bleak, dystopian lyrics contrast the breezy sound of the song, all talk of police states and bombs being dropped. The phrase “refrigerators full of blood” is especially chilling, not least for its resemblance to the “I open my wallet, and it is full of blood” line in a similarly apocalyptic track by Godspeed You! Black Emperor, “The Dead Flag Blues”. But despite its inherently dark nature, by the time Oberst near shrieks his final chorus of “Don’t you weep”, and the song glitches and skips like a broken tape, it’s hard not to feel a bit more content in the face of our inevitable future.

3. Immaterial – SOPHIE

I would be remiss to not include something on this list by the late, great producer SOPHIE. Primarily known for her contributions to the bubblegum bass and electronic pop field so popular today, she’s produced for the likes of Vince Staples, Charli XCX, Let’s Eat Grandma, and Madonna, as well as her own work. While I never dove deep into her work before her tragic death this past January, I always held her in high regard for just how influential and innovative of a force she was in music. This track from her sole studio album, Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides, showcases her skills as a master of sound and style. It’s bold and loud, but never overbearing or tacky. I don’t know how else to describe it except that it goes hard. Everything from the pulsing, blown out beat to the bright synths to the earworm chants of “immaterial girls, immaterial boys” just works. Once people are able to go out dancing again, I’m hopeful they’ll play this track, among others of hers, in an homage to her power as a wildly important trans artist, and to the joy she brought so many.

4. Plug In Baby – Muse

We’re throwing things back a bit with this one. I’ll be upfront: I think this is one of the greatest rock songs of the 2000s, and possibly of all time. Maybe I’m biased; it was one of the first riffs I learned on guitar that I actually felt cool playing, so I have a soft spot for it. However, I didn’t really pay attention to the song as a whole until earlier this year when I went through some of Muse’s earlier work. For me, listening to “Plug In Baby” is pure joy and adrenaline. Nothing gets me hyped like the blast of distortion before the guitar comes in. I could go on about the riff forever, but in brief, it’s one of the most seamless, well-composed melodies I’ve heard on guitar. There are some sour notes in there, but that just makes it more impressive that it all flows so smoothly. Outside of the riff, the actual performance of the song has great energy coming from every member: the bass and drums lock in together tightly, the guitars are noisy but not overbearing, and frontman Matt Bellamy’s voice is remarkably dynamic. His ability to enhance the drama of a song, as well as his knack for composing razor-sharp melodies, is seen in spades here, especially in the chorus. In my view, this song is essential because it operates on one simple notion: keep things to the fundamentals. Every part is entirely necessary, and as such, it doesn’t need any bells or whistles to make it great. It just is.

5. I Know the End – Phoebe Bridgers

I won’t go too deep on this track, as I plan on talking about the album it comes from, Punisher, in a future post, but I figured I should at least include it for the somewhat recent “controversy” it raised when it was performed by Bridgers on Saturday Night Live. Near the end of her and her band’s performance, she smashed her guitar in similar fashion to countless other rock musicians before her. I didn’t think too much of it other than that it looked cool, despite being a little cliché, but the Internet went pretty nuts over the whole thing, mainly old men who get angry about women doing anything men have already done for decades. It was completely ridiculous, but thankfully Bridgers took it well, responding in an Instagram post, “next time I’ll just burn it and it will be more expensive”. As far as the song itself goes, “I Know The End” is the dramatic conclusion to an already emotionally intensive record. It builds over the course of six minutes from a standard Bridgers ballad to a grand, expressive climax featuring horns, screaming, and a reprise of the harrowing melody heard on the intro to the album. It is simultaneously life-affirming and completely devastating in the way only a Phoebe Bridgers song could be. It is everything I want in a song from last year, and I’ll be listening to it long after the chaos that birthed it has passed. Hopefully, at least.

Australians Do It Better: Introducing Sam Lawrence

Over the years, Australia has given us a host of legendary bands from the Bee Gees to AC/DC. More recently, they’ve produced such gems as Miami Horror, Kimbra, and Tame Impala. Amongst these new-age musical talents is Melbourne native, Sam Lawrence. He’s been a figure in the Melbourne music scene for years and has forged collaborations with both Kimbra and Miami Horror as well as with a host of other local artists. Now Lawrence is preparing to drop an album called ‘Rheo- I Flow Away’ and has been putting out live performance videos of some of the songs from the album on YouTube.

Lawrence is an incredibly talented musician accomplished at guitar, piano, and vocals in a way that many musicians can only aspire to be. This innate musicality has lent itself well to his songwriting and makes for a style that is at once complex and intuitive. Though some of his songs may initially feel inaccessible to untrained ears, as a musician, I have developed a strong appreciation for Lawrence’s songs and am writing this article to share my love for his unique musical style with all of you.

Instrumentally, his choices are unprecedented. He uses a wide variety of chord voicings that are much more difficult to process than the average major or minor chord, forcing his audience to listen closer to what he’s doing. His unexpected chord progressions never allow listeners to let their guard down as he weaves strange vocal melodies around chords whose complexity makes them challenging to accommodate vocally. This tactic gives his songs a certain ambience and otherworldliness. His voice evokes a combination of Kevin Parker’s dreamy falsetto and Townes Van Zandt’s soulful, folk style. He is clearly a highly capable vocalist and casually displays this through his fluctuating melodies, never resting on any one note for too long and constantly searching for the next one in its key to transform what could be a straightforward vocal lick into a strange, modulating labyrinth of notes.

His instrumental mastery rivals his vocal prowess, though the two go hand in hand in the live videos of his recent songs. Initially recognized for his skill as a pianist through songs like Kimbra’s ‘Wandering Limbs’ in which he’s featured, Lawrence surprises listeners by playing acoustic guitar in his new songs. The decision to do so lends an earthy quality to the songs that would be difficult to accomplish with a piano or keyboard and is a wise choice for songs that are meant to be quasi-celebratory hymns. Not surprisingly, he is also an insanely talented guitarist. His knowledge of piano theory and chord formations help him to make unconventional yet informed choices on the guitar that add incredible emotion and depth to his music. Having this dual-instrumentality is a distinct advantage when creating music that both surprises and intrigues listeners, and that’s precisely the effect of his recently released songs.

Below is my personal favorite of his new songs and an excellent example of all the qualities I’ve discussed. Though his music is complex and at times unorthodox, I think it can touch the hearts of a lot of people. You don’t have to be a musician to appreciate Lawrence’s songs, but I hope this analysis helps you to form a better understanding of his general stylistic choices. Check out more of his music by following the link to his YouTube channel below and prepare to cry tears of every emotion on the spectrum.

 

Sam Lawrence YouTube channel

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC4chHY9zHmWoN6h1k9Qvc0A

On Repeat: Coming of Age

Foster the People. Foster. The People. People the Foster. No three words have made me happier in my entire life than today.

Since their first album dropped in 2011, I have loved this band with all my heart. Listening to Torches on repeat felt like an initiation rite. They have topped my list of Bands I Have To See Live Before I Die for the past three years. I have argued that their entire album is ten times better than that one song about fancy shoes.

And finally, they’re back.

Now, I may be late to this whole party, as I just found out today about their new single, “Coming of Age,” although a quick glance on Facebook shows me they’ve been dropping hints about their comeback for a while. But unlike the time I was in high school, I can’t keep up with the activities of all my favorite bands. So this has come as a much needed surprise.

But I digress. I’m here to talk about the song itself.

“Coming of Age” is, in my opinion, a perfect follow up to Torches. With Foster the People’s utterly distinct vocals, this song highlights their talent for making catchy music that I don’t feel horrible about singing in the hallways. Poised as the next crossover hit, with driving beats that mark this song as FTP style, I cannot see this song not being played on the radio. And while I don’t listen to the radio anymore, I will gladly applaud any alternative song that charts, even if it’s in the pop genre (and yes, pop is a genre, not just what is “popular”).

However, more than that, I can’t help but to smile at the incredible cleverness of it all. While it feels unfair to call Foster the People rookies, Torches was their first LP, making “Coming of Age” and the subsequent Supermodel, their sophomore release. While the lyrics deliver a song about a (winter?) romance-gone-astray, the single represents more than that. Literally, it is a coming of age for Foster the People. A band’s sophomore album must be perfect in order to beat the sophomore slump and simultaneously establish themselves as a credible and worthwhile artist, and Foster the People acknowledges that burden with grace. This song and forthcoming album will partially determine their future – whether they rise to eternal fame or fall among the other indie bands that have faded into the background.

Unfortunately, I won’t be able to accurately judge what kind of artist they will become until March 18th when Supermodel is released. Hopefully this album will prove to me that they are in fact a band that will make a permanent mark on music history. For now, however, I will savor the way “Coming of Age” sounds as I walk to class – infectiously upbeat and yet somehow disarmingly beautiful.