on the pulse - 2022 - #9 - camila cabello, jack white, wet leg, pup, josh ramsay, soul glo

Man, this is overdue for some of these projects - and I still think I’m slipping behind schedule thanks to all of those solo reviews, of which I’ve got plans for more. But hey, the vast majority of these are all in heavier music and that’ll make for a wild ride, so let’s get On The Pulse!

Soul Glo - Diaspora Problems - well, this has been long in coming - I started getting recommendations for Soul Glo as soon as they dropped and before the wave of critical acclaim smashed through, but I did want to go back to their first few projects first. And… I wasn't initially that into it, the sort of overly wordy, jarring hardcore where you couldn't make out much of what was being said and then needed to untangle it when you did. Coupled with some rough production that never gave the grooves proper foundation, I was concerned I was going to be on the outside looking in with this one. And it’s probably the most I’ve liked a Soul Glo album to date, so even though I don’t think the utterly manic screamo vocals will ever fully be for me, I found this pretty interesting! A big part of this is how it’s easily Soul Glo’s brightest and most polished production to date, especially in the lead guitar lines that pick up some real flash and help the melodies pop over a satisfying groove, so even if we’re not really getting much in the way of hooks - and when we do like on ‘We Wants Revenge’ they can feel pretty obnoxious - you’ll get tones that are closer to post-hardcore on ‘Gold Chain Punk’, or the synth-inflected pulse of ‘(Five Years And) My Family’ has a weirdly bright bounce and ricochets across tempos, or even flip towards jazz with ‘Thumbsucker’ and the superb McKinley Dixon assisted closer ‘Spiritual Level of Gang Shit’. Or on the flip side, when the grooves really lock in, you’ll get the manic thrash slam of ‘Jump!! (Or Get Jumped!!)((by the future)), or that utterly filthy groove on ‘The Thangs I Carry’, or even the industrial trap of ‘Driponomics’ - it’s less effective after the switch-up on ‘GODBLESSYALLREALGOOD’, unfortunately, but that track was a late album dud for me regardless. Yet if you’re really going to get into Soul Glo, and put in the work to decode the lyrics… well, what’ll catch your ear more explicitly is their militant hard-left, borderline anarchist politics, but a better starting point is delving into the very raw emotional throughline of this project, where it feels a lot less like a focused statement than a sheer, unbridled torrent of nihilistic rage, the roots of which are complicated. Some of it is highlighted in black male socialization on ‘Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmyass?)’, some on familial missteps to strip away support and security so they can adapt and survive in a cruel world, manifesting on ‘Thumbsucker’ and ‘(Five Years And) My Family’, and when you factor on depression, mental illness, and a mighty fuckton of rage at an abusive capitalist system and police state where things have not changed for Black people for decades despite promises of incremental improvement, where you’re often raised to think there’s nothing better by parents in the same state and that those who have succeeded have chosen class solidarity and left you behind… yeah, I absolutely get the rage here. But this is where I’m going to bring in my three P’s of great political art, because while there’s a lot of power and precision here, I’m not sure I would call this populist, partially because the Overton window hasn’t shifted to the point where uncompromising armed militancy on ‘We Wants Revenge’ where the liberals get the bullet too on ‘John J’ are arguments that work outside of leftist Twitter, but also because the calls to action are limited and don’t translate well when you have no hooks, the delivery is so quick and jumbled, and it’s surrounded by a miasma of bile and destructive angst, and that’s before you get ‘Driponomics’, which highlights how the scammer and flipping gang economies can be the only ways some folks can survive under late capitalism, which can feel a bit disingenuous alongside tracks of a zero compromise ethos. It’s one reason I’m actually inclined to agree with the band that the politics are more of a side-effect of the album’s intended emotional catharsis, more individualized therapy that trying to connect outside of that niche as they don’t really expect things to change much, but it’s a narrowing of scope that kind of contradicts the fiery revolutionary language so much of this album embraces, it kind of works against itself. Still, a project that sparks this much thought with so much intensity, and is smart enough to stick the landing regardless of my hang-ups, it may not convince any of those who are not fans of hardcore or screamo to get in on the action, but for those who want a howling slice of some great stuff in this genre, Soul Glo absolutely delivered - impressive stuff.

Josh Ramsay - The Josh Ramsay Show - You know, for as much as I’m a fan of Marianas Trench and its mastermind Josh Ramsay, I had my doubts about his solo debut here. Not that he wouldn’t be a good producer or singer or songwriter, but given his unique stylism and just how many guest stars he was including, I was concerned whether this would wind up sounding like a Brendon Urie solo project - I’m sorry, latter stage Panic! At The Disco, that you’d lose some of what the band brings to the table. And… the tricky thing with describing an album like this is that it feels more like a portfolio than a cohesive project. Outside of Marianas Trench, Josh Ramsay has written and produced for a lot of other Canadian acts, a jack-of-all-trades who is confident he can write and deliver in any genre, and wow this album wants you to know that for how it careens across theatrical pop that leans close to showtunes, Marianas Trench-esque pop rock, soul, EDM, and even country, at every point letting Ramsay showcase his insane pipes across melodically rich compositions that will nearly always go for broke whenever they can and occasionally can wind up feeling a little compressed in spots or lacking texture, which can happen when you’re a one-man operation - look at fellow Canadian Devin Townsend - but can have some of the attempts at soul feel a bit lacking in potency. The problem is that when Ramsay does this with Marianas Trench, it’s in the service of a conceptual narrative or grand arc that this album doesn’t really have beyond some heartfelt moments trying to process the loss of parents, so it acts more like the overstuffed collection of greatest almost-hits separated by a few orchestral pieces to ease the transitions. And yet whenever Ramsay brings on a guest star, he writes for them rather than having them step into his sound, which might keep them in their comfort zone but has me wondering if he could have gotten more out of them in what he could have created, other than giving them well-written and punchy but occasionally anonymous feeling duets… especially because Ramsay is the sort of writer whose voice tends to cut through for whom he’s writing. And without that larger thematic framework… well, the majority of the songs remain good if not great, but they aren’t getting elevated to transcendence outside of a gorgeous closing track with his sister - I dug his stab at EDM with Fionn on ‘You & I’, ‘Perfect Mistake’ is a new wave slap, ‘Try Me’ is a great slice of 80s-inflected pop, and the pop country of ‘Best Of Me’ with Dallas Smith was surprisingly credible. Hell, on ‘Lady Mine’ he probably remains the best costar and writer that Chad Kroeger of Nickelback has ever had, they have great chemistry and certainly better than when Ramsay tries hard rock on his own with ‘Painted Faces’. Overall I think it’s best to treat this like a side venture at most for diehard fans, where the variety makes it good stuff, but it could afford a little more meat and structure, that’s all.

PUP - THE UNRAVELING OF PUPTHEBAND - so there was a lot that had me concerned about this album. The production on the lead-off singles, for one, had me thinking that this band was steering into The Armed territory, but for as meta as they gotten in the past in passing, I’m not sure it’s always the best fit or that it would pay them the dividends they expect. And… okay, it’s not as bad The Armed with a project like ULTRAPOP, but it’s hard to ignore how the increasingly blown out guitar feedback saturates everything alongside shrill or blaring keyboards that doesn’t exactly help the drums pick up much impact beyond clipping the mix - not counting the drum machines and pop touches that don’t remotely fit on a PUP album - leaving any bassline gasping for presence and the crowd vocals trying to shout through. It leads to songs with really promising melodic leads unable to sound as effective as they could in a sweaty, overstuffed mix without the dynamics to make the explosiveness hit as effectively. Which yes, is part of the point when it comes to a self-destructive project overflowing with excess where everyone is aware that it’s falling apart, but it’s also a conscious step away from their strongest assets to make this point, with any ‘polish’ feeling like plugging every orifice with glitter and pink slime, or in the case of ‘Habits’ being the chiptune-infused headache that caused me to shut off the album nearly every time I heard it. And that’s kind of a shame because when Stefan Babcock’s righteous holler does cut through and you can make out the lyrics, there’s some moments that capture the sort of flailing catharsis that only PUP can: the ode to his old, creaking guitar on ‘Matilda’ that sounds like shit but you love it anyway; the neverending road burnout of ‘Relentless’ that hits a more lonely confined space on ‘Cutting Off The Corners’. And I do appreciate the observation that art that continues to hit the same notes of angst and self-destruction will bleed them dry - the rage and catharsis fades, you wind up feeling empty - and when you combine it with the sick demand for repetition that comes with being a successful band in a capitalist paradigm where you see your music get sold for ads but that’s how you can make a living, and a part of you appreciates it and you feel endlessly guilty, you have the snotty mockery of those who get “real jobs” before the caustic realization he might follow in a few years, all wrapped into the warped hall of mirrors where even rage feels like a performance! But while I might appreciate that as a writer / artist with a platform in my own right, this sort of ouroboros hasn’t just been hit before by a lot of punk acts for decades now, it sketches a hard maximalist ceiling on PUP’s approach where the compositions aren’t robust enough to elevate it. Don’t get me wrong, this is still good for what it is, but even if that’s the point, self destruction isn’t always the sensible career choice - I know y’all got that reference.

Wet Leg - Wet Leg - Wow, this English band certainly attracted a lot of attention from out of nowhere, with their song ‘Chaise Lounge’ going tremendously viral - convenient they were already signed to Domino two years earlier and have indie rock veteran Dan Carey along for production - and that leads into this debut album. And why am I getting the same lingering feeling I got when I covered Soccer Mommy back in 2020, or early Wolf Alice, just with weaker vocals and lethargic tempos imported from Courtney Barnett? What this means is that we’ve got a deliberate throwback to the ramshackle indie rock with sardonic vocals and rough guitar textures straight out of the 90s and early 2000s, where detachment is the name of the game, and which I generally found tedious twenty years ago and little has changed, especially given how commercial-ready this stuff is. The basslines might be solid, but the soggy guitars seem to lose their muscle midway through the album, the drums feel really underpowered, none of the synths blend well with this mix and the autotune works even less, and if you can’t tune into this vibe - which has never been my thing, I’ll say it again - the hooks really start running together, outside of fragments like that strangely familiar lick on ‘I Don’t Wanna Go Out’ or when it just gets aggressively annoying like on ‘Supermarket’. But alright, even if I’m thoroughly sick of this stylism, normally there’s decent lyrics to go along with it… until you realize that Wet Leg is hitting a lot of all-too-familiar territory, between breakup songs with a lot of genuinely insufferable guys and coming to the slow recognition that they’re now entering their late 20s and haven’t been able to pull anything together. Which, okay, Illuminati Hotties hit the latter theme more effectively and with better hooks on their album last year, but where I think that comparison runs deeper is that even though they’re scrabbling to get by, Illuminati Hotties at least sound like they’re finding some scraps of enjoyment along the way. Meanwhile Wet Leg seem stuck at a lot of shitty parties with shitty boyfriends and while the detached middle finger at it all is on some level a survival mechanism, especially when your feelings keep tugging you back in - it’s not like Gen X didn’t trace this exact same arc in the 90s and early 2000s - you’d normally expect some sort of insight or catharsis, whereas all Wet Leg can muster is a wallow with a single scream on ‘Ur Mum’. It’s why ‘Chaise Longue’ is the best song here because at least it’s quirky and absurd in its irreverent kissoff, whereas ‘Oh No’ is a stock anti-social media song that adds nothing and is one of the worst songs here. But overall, I get why this’ll work for a certain audience of Gen Z kids and Gen X parents who have some nostalgia for it, but for me it’s not catchy, interesting, nor remotely original - mediocre at best, I’d skip it.

Jack White - Fear Of The Dawn - I was in no rush whatsoever to check this out. Granted, part of this comes from me being not the biggest Jack White fan since Blunderbuss… and thinking that his material has aged in a weirdly anonymous way, and that while Boarding House Reach wasn’t as bad as some made it out to be, it certainly killed off any long-term interest I had in chasing his stuff. But hey, folks did say this was a more rock-inflected turnaround… and it is, but it also highlights how Jack White is heading into territory where I’m not sure his strengths are being flattered. Specifically, given the increasingly scattered compositional structures and tangled lyricism, what I was immediately reminded of was the jam bands that broke out in the early-to-mid 90s, where I can listen to these and immediately imagine all the different ways that Jack White could pull them in strange or cool directions - I’ve seen him live, I know how capable he is of it. But even back with The White Stripes, part of Jack White’s fundamental appeal was lean focus and defined hooks, more song-driven and immediate, and given the increasingly buzzed out squeals of guitars that unfortunately seem to be taking a cue from the blockier sides of hard rock production where fuzz and distortion is mistaken for true muscle, you find yourself wondering just how much your patience is going to stick if the songs lack focus, especially when the groove sections - mostly in the drums occasionally shoved back - lack any impressive progressive flourish or feel so staccato. That is, except on a few songs like ‘Eosophobia’ and its reprise where he brings in a series of fluttery guitar passages that sound imported from the weirder side of bluesy hard rock… and not gonna lie, I wound up enjoying them if only because the melodic grooves connected! Of course that’s not going to stop Jack White from smashing in overly bright synth passages that blend with nothing, African chants, awkward vocal samples, and a rap verse from Q-Tip - at least it’s better than when White tries to rap himself on ‘What’s The Trick?’ - and if I felt like any of it blended or connected with a larger idea rather than White throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks, that would be one thing. If you look to the lyrics… even at his best, Jack White has never been a good lyricist and here it’s no exception, where amidst the expected sneering swagger, you get vague allusions to creative sparks and love found in the night that seem to fizzle upon exposure to the light and truth, where you can tell White is trying to find some revelry in a Dionysian worldview and grapple with how being a figure of artistic nostalgia pushes him into that ephemeral midnight territory, but ultimately realizing that to find a genuine connection there needs to be balance and he needs to get over his fear of the dawn, control that balance to illuminate in day and night. But more often it comes across like abstract, disjointed quirk for novelty’s sake with tenuous free association that Beck was doing better over twenty years ago, especially in comparison with songs like ‘Morning, Noon & Night’ and ‘Shedding My Velvet’ that could have been pulled straight from Blunderbuss except with some of that flashy guitar work - call them more straightforward, but they’re something White actually knows how to execute effectively and they frankly give the album a way better conclusion than it deserves! But the more I think about it, there’s a strange thematic core to Fear Of The Dawn that mostly holds together even despite the careening experiments, which at least puts it above Boarding House Reach for me, and with a little more immediacy and focus, there’s enough good moments for a hesitant recommendation. It’s not an experiment that’ll work for anyone, but there’s enough weird purpose that I can hear how it could work - I respect that.

Camila Cabello - Familia - …hey, I was curious, and most of my content around Camila Cabello tends to overperform expectations, even if it seems like this is not getting the attention that you’d otherwise expect, especially with its abortive singles runs. You’d think given the greater prevalence of Latin music on the radio that it’d be an easier sell, especially given that Cabello has proven pretty decent at it, but I also was around at the turn of the millennium, when artists pushed the ‘latin album’ to profit off of the craze and crossover, and more of those projects underperformed than succeeded, especially if the authenticity didn’t translate. But hey, it couldn’t be worse than Romance, right? Well, it’s not - in fact, I’d probably say this is Camila Cabello’s best album by a fair margin, but it also places me in a weird spot where it’s hard to ignore the industry machinations behind it. To put it bluntly, considering the failures of many Latin pop diversions, you can tell the executives backing Camila Cabello were not going to let this fail on account of her vocals being the weakest point of all of her music, so they brought on Ricky Reed to handle the majority of the production, a stacked list of Latin composers for the music, and kept Camila Cabello onboard to write the lyrics and sing; nothing else. But if you’re familiar with any trends in modern Latin music, especially reggaeton, this is not an album that plays to those trends, instead looking backwards to even older Latin crossover leaning on mariachi, a bit of flamenco, and traces of bachata, and all with the flashy, oversold polish that has been Ricky Reed’s standby. And it’s jarring whenever Camila Cabello’s rougher tones go up alongside it - she’s becoming a better singer, but she’s no Shakira and flash like this requires a big vocal personality and it doesn’t compliment her well, which is one reason why the more downtempo, synth-inflected songs like ‘psychofreak’ or the nu-disco of ‘Hasta Los Dientes’ actually winds up a better fit, and why the closing acoustic ballad ‘everyone at this party’ is a really sweet intimate moment. But hey, when you stack the production and composition teams with veterans playing to their comfort zone, you’ll get good hooks, and outside of ‘Bam Bam’, that disastrous embarrassment with Ed Sheeran, if you can buy into a Latin pop sound that’s very bright, acoustic, a little plastic and lacking groove and atmosphere, you’ll probably like a lot of this… which takes us to the content. It’s hard to ignore that Cabello was intending this as a somewhat amicable but complicated breakup album post-Shawn Mendes that probably could have afforded more intimate production - so naturally her label thinks Ricky Reed is the right solution, which translates to songs like ‘La Buena Vida’ and ‘Don’t Go Yet’ that just feel oversold, even if I like the latter - but there are moments where it gets close. I’ve already talked about ‘psychofreak’ on Billboard BREAKDOWN, but I like the low-key relapse moment on ‘Quiet’ and I respect how she tried to help Mendes through his insecurity on ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ even if I can’t stand the synth behind it. And while I think a song like ‘Lola’ speaking about the repressive side of Fidel Castro’s regime in Cuba is outside of Camila Cabello’s wheelhouse, I get why she might have been drawn to a song like this given her own conflicted ambition, and the arrangement is really good. Overall… on some level this is already being described as a failure because of her three releases thus far it has performed the worst, but it’s the first time I actually didn’t mind revisiting it and I think there’s quality here, although it’s up in the air how much you could chalk up to decent writing versus the ringers on composition and production. Still, this is probably deserving of more attention than it got, and it’s worth a listen.