Track Of The Day: Ethel Cain – ‘Strangers’

An emotive, bittersweet lament about the cyclical nature of love and life, American songwriter Ethel Cain has shared her latest single ‘Strangers’. The closing track to her highly anticipated debut album, Preacher’s Daughter, which is set for release on 12th May via her own imprint Daughters of Cain, the track is tinged with Cain’s irresistible trademark melancholy, made all the more affecting by her yearning, passionate vocals.

“This is the second song I wrote for this record, without the intention that it would become the ending,” Cain explains about ‘Strangers’. “Looking back, I can’t imagine a more perfect resolution to this lineage. I think subconsciously, this song was always the end of the road. It’s the realization that some things cannot be avoided, only accepted, and that just because it isn’t a happy ending, doesn’t mean it’s a bad one. There is an ending in every beginning, and all things come back around in one strange way or another. You can’t change your past, nor anyone else’s and the only real strength you have in this lifetime is your forgiveness.”

Unravelling over the course of almost six minutes like her previous offering ‘Gibson Girl’, on ‘Strangers’ Cain candidly asks listeners “am I making you feel sick?” over lavish, swirling guitar riffs and atmospheric cymbal crashes. Laced with a palpable desire, it’s a poignant rumination on how time affects our perspective on relationships with others and with ourselves, weaved together by Cain’s exquisite vocal delivery and intimate lyrics.

On Preacher’s Daughter, which she wrote and produced herself, Cain paints a portrait of a brilliant and deeply empathetic artist, committed to telling the story of “a flawed family plagued by human nature and the Southern soil on which it all plays out.”

Listen to ‘Strangers’ below.

Follow Ethel Cain on bandcamp, Spotify, Twitter, Instagram & Facebook

Photo Credit: Ethel Cain

Kate Crudgington
@KCBobCut

ALBUM: Bodega – ‘Broken Equipment’

Sardonic New York art-punk collective BODEGA have an insatiable appetite for philosophy, and with their latest LP Broken Equipment, they have interrogated their own identities – and the external technological influences that shape the band – with self-aware pretentious wit, techno-scepticism and scathing social commentary. The result is a wordy concept album of sorts set in NYC; a collection of cynical anti-establishment post-punk.

Following the dissolution of their previous band Bodega Bay and BODEGA’s formation in 2016, Ben Hozie and Nikki Belfiglio’s satirical musings – like those pondered on their 2018 debut Endless Scroll and 2019 extended play Shiny New Model – never shy away from self-critique. Opening their sophomore album with a dance-punk ode to identity, Hozie tries desperately to understand himself and the constant challenges NYC flings his way on ‘Thrown’. “My molecules change yet I remain / I weave and unweave my image.”

Atop an infectious twangy bassline courtesy of philosophy professor (and ‘de facto’ leader of BODEGA’s philosophy book club) Adam See, and Tai Lee’s percussive strikes, Hozie sneers at NYC’s culture of never-ending productivity in ‘Doer’, spitting out a Daft Punk-esque mantra that the city is maybe making him “bitter, harder, fatter, stressed out!” BODEGA’s sarcastic humour shines throughout their anthemic Beastie Boys/Run-DMC-style throwback (“Innovation waits for no man / Unless I lose my dongle!”), providing us with a New York slice of relatable satire.

Belfiglio takes on lead vocals for ‘Territorial Call of the Female’, dissecting female competition “because you know when the man is around / that’s when I’m putting you down.” Alternating between snarky and sweet with ease, Belfiglio’s expressionist vocalisation is complimented by Daniel Ryan’s angular new wave lead guitar lines and tone (referred to as the “insectoid” sound). This melodic sensibility continues on ‘NYC (disambiguation)’ with BODEGA taking a softer direction that is often at odds with their lyrical anger and disappointment; an honest look at NYC’s history.

Released in multiple languages prior to the LP’s release, ‘Statuette on the Console’ is another Belfiglio-sung highlight that ponders “anyone who puts their reality on your back and forces you to carry it around,” followed by the hip hop bounce of ‘C.I.R.P.’; Belfiglio and Hozie tag-teaming lyrics and wrestling media elitism whilst See, Lee, and Ryan provide ringside support with pulsating bass grooves, driving beats, and propulsive riffs.

The Cult-like love song ‘Pillar on the Bridge of You’ and The Velvet Underground inspired ‘All Past Lovers’ continue Hozie and Belfiglio’s journey of self-discovery in NYC, tackling relationships new and old, whilst ‘How Can I Help Ya?’, ‘No Blade of Grass’, and ‘Seneca The Stoic’ allow BODEGA to show off their rock and roll chops; Ryan shredding his way through the band’s ceaseless punk energy. But it is Broken Equipment’s closer, ‘After Jane’, that will leave a lasting impression.

Picking up the acoustic guitar, Hozie reflects honestly on his relationship with his mother for the album’s heartfelt final track; an emotionally raw realisation that after her death, her grace and pain now reside within him – “I’m channeling your hurt when I sing my songs” – It’s a sombre ending to an otherwise biting social satire, told through the ethos of punk rock.

BODEGA is a philosophical project and Broken Equipment is their latest thesis; an analysis of the changes occurring around us at an accelerated pace that directly inform our life experiences. Perhaps we’re the broken equipment.

Follow Bodega on bandcamp, Spotify, Twitter, Instagram & Facebook

Photo Credit: Pooneh Ghana

Ken Wynne
@Ken_Wynne

Track Of The Day: Lou Roy – ‘Down Since 07’

LA-based Lou Roy is a self–confessed anti-genre singer and songwriter. With her upcoming debut album Pure Chaos due for release at the end of April Lou has shared its third single, ‘Down Since 07’. She credits the light and fun quality of her recent songwriting to a new found love of weed, and that is evident more than ever on this chilled synth/hip-hop-hybrid.

The initial ‘down’ beat and bass line leads us into a groove, where Lou sings she’s “down since 07 / down since I met you.” The mood changes in the bridge, becoming dreamier – “every bite’s a peachy cobbler” – sounding more psychedelic and with a slightly stronger beat, the mantra of the song’s title is repeated, ending on the evocative whisper “only one pulling me out of the corner to dance.” The contrast between how she really feels and what she says, comes through.

When speaking at the song, Lou explains: “It’s about being down to bang someone…However by the end, it isn’t quite the joyful yodel into a lush canyon echoing back to me that I’d planned for.” It’s a humorous slice of real life and fits perfectly with Lou’s ‘Joy is King’ mantra. Expect more grit and glamour from her upcoming debut album, which is set for release on 29th April via Balloon Machine Records.

Listen to ‘Down Since 07’ below.

Lou Roy’s debut album Pure Chaos is set for release on 29th April via Balloon Machine Records. Pre-order your copy here

Follow Lou Roy on bandcamp, Spotify, Twitter & Instagram

Photo Credit: Silken Weinberg

Fi Ni Aicead
@gotnomoniker

Track Of The Day: Honey Joy – ‘Raising Boys’

A band that pulls no punches either in their sound or their subject matter, Honey Joy’s latest track is a heartfelt and heartbreaking exploration of the damage toxic masculinity does to generation after generation of men.

Raising Boys‘ sees the innocence and softness in little boys and laments the cold, hard process they grow through as they are raised to fit the shape of masculinity that an inherently problematic society thrusts upon them. It reminisces about “the softest soul, a loving heart” – evoking the ideas of strength and safety, and juxtaposing them against the damaging things boys are taught to internalise as they grow up. The lyrics plead for a resistance, but the way the two vocal lines wind around each other highlights the futility of it in a culture determined to bend you to its will. As one begs “Don’t change yourself for him”, the other is very aware that the “you” in the narrative is already infected by toxic expectations.

The raw passion of the vocals is heightened by the music. Screaming guitars roll over heavy drums that thrust extra layers of emphasis onto the most profound moments of the song. Riffs whip between the throbbing beat and the swells of energy in the vocals.

‘Raising Boys’ begins and ends with the same phrase: “Did he ever tell you that he wasn’t okay?” It introduces the mission statement of the song perfectly. The callback at the end lingers with you, heavy with unspoken questions. It is loaded with the pressure put on men to bottle up their emotions, to never be seen to cry, to not talk about their feelings in public until it has torn them apart from within. It reinforces the power of the song – making not only the message, but also its importance, impossible to miss.

Kirstie Summers
@ActuallyKurt