Filled with her signature vocals and Americana-infused lyrics, Lana Del Rey’s latest release, 

, blends her recognizable musical style with more folk influences. Her sixth full-length album brings audiences a beautiful, but sedating and underwhelming new addition to her discography given her history of delivering over-the-top narratives in her work.

Del Rey’s presence in pop culture has been a force over the last near-decade since the release of her debut, 

, in which she established herself as an elusive but intriguing figure. Her persona of a reckless, passionate, and cinematic American youth combined with influences of classic old Hollywood glamor was so exaggerated that one couldn’t tell if she was crafting the character on purpose or if she truly believed that’s who she was. Regardless, Del Rey certainly confirmed her knack for storytelling through the lens of a character living the American dream, and these 

genre-defining and culturally impactful stylistic choices

 have carried her through her career in the years since. The image through which she presents herself on her records has shifted over time, as she has grown as an artist. However, her distinct musical sound, an aspect which she has kept nearly consistent since the start of her career, has also set her apart from other artists in the industry.

On Del Rey’s latest album, there are obvious musical successes, such as its delicacy in vocals and accompaniment. There’s also evidence of her continuation of the musical styles from 

, where she experimented with new production styles due to her collaboration with Jack Antonoff. Tracks like “Wild At Heart” and “Dark But Just A Game” hint at the previous album: the former sounds similar to “Venice Bitch” in its accompaniment through the chorus, and the latter mimics the distinct chord progression of “The greatest.” These details could have made 

 had they been more developed and carried out into the rest of the body of work, but keeping these details sporadic also enabled Del Rey to take on a new sound for the album.

In songs like “White Dress” and “Dance Till We Die,” Del Rey ventures into lesser-used areas of her vocal range, giving the album something new. “Yosemite” feels like a return to her earlier music, with eerie vocals that drop and rise in the chorus and then play through a radio-like filter partway through the song. The variation throughout the vocals of the song, alongside a steady, sometimes somber guitar accompaniment, make this song a standout on the album. The final track, “For Free,” features Zella Day and Weyes Blood over a twinkling piano accompaniment. It’s an interesting choice for the closer, given that the song ends on a verse sung by Weyes Blood, but it has soothing harmonies and an appropriate tone for a closing song. However, the other aspects of larger storytelling throughout the album feel stale.

Del Rey’s strong suit has always been storytelling through some sort of persona, whether it be the version of her that’s 

. Creating these personas makes her storytelling exciting as the lines between her fantasy and reality are blurred; realism is not something that fans tend to expect with her (especially given that 

sometimes, when she opens up, it makes her image worse

 feel like a mismatch for Del Rey. It’s folk-inspired and minimalist, which tends to suit someone aiming for a more soul-bearing, raw representation of the human experience – precisely the opposite of Lana Del Rey.

It’s not that the album isn’t good musically, but perhaps this album indicates that she has already gone through all the tropes that she can think of and has run out of – for lack of polite phrasing – gimmicks. This change might be intentional or, it could be an indicator that she has become less interested in crafting a persona. It’s possible that, after a decade, she’s feeling increasingly inspired to infuse her own unfiltered identity into her music. This is a perfectly acceptable thing for an artist to do as they evolve, but perhaps the disappointment comes from the fact that Lana Del Rey was more alluring the less we knew about her.

Lana Del Rey opens up a bit too far on ‘Chemtrails Over The Country Club’

, blends current pop with early 2000s pop and rock, and stays consistent with the style she established on her LP 

 undoubtedly masters the blending of all these styles on several tracks, several others feel static and already-done on her LP. However, several of her tracks are standouts that will attract new fans, and contribute to her increasing presence and recognition within pop music.

Lead single “STFU!” is more adjacent to heavy metal than any other genre that Sawayama has previously explored in her music. The explosive song expresses her anger, presumably at men who fetishize her as demonstrated in the 

, as she repeats the humorous question “Have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut? ‘Cause I have, many times”. Fellow single “Comme Des Garçons” is the complete opposite of the former, which is a club-sounding dance track with boastful lyrics like “Excuse my ego / Can’t go incognito / Every time you see me / It’s like winning big in Reno”. These tracks feel like Sawayama pushing her already experimental sound even further, adding even more genre diversity to her growing discography.

Some songs draw heavily from early-2000s pop, evoking a satisfying feeling of nostalgia for her largely Gen Z fanbase. “XS” has abrupt acoustic guitar strums backing her singing, resembling early Britney, and “Love Me 4 Me” has a chorus that sounds like an early-aughts radio pop hit. These tracks could be straight off an album from that era if not for the interjections of electric guitar, connecting the songs to her rock side.

Other tracks lean much heavier into her rock style, which audiences got a taste of on her LP. Much like “STFU!”, “Who’s Gonna Save U Now?” is loud and unsympathetic, proclaiming “I wish you well but go take it somewhere else”. This track feels similar in style to popular 2017 track “Alterlife”, but with more repetition and less complex arrangement, making it feel static and pale in comparison.

Several songs are pleasant sounding, but not particularly interesting, like the sugary “Tokyo Love Hotel” and “Paradisin’”. They are light-hearted and cute, but ultimately don’t add any texture to her discography, which already has several of these types of pop songs that are more interesting (“Ordinary Superstar” and “Cherry”).

Despite having some standout tracks that round out her discography to include a more diverse array of musical genre influences, overall the album disappoints due to lulls in her track listing. After setting a high bar with her initial LP, which blended genres to create a sound simultaneously new and nostalgic, it doesn’t feel like the songs on 

 were able to compete with many of her previous tracks. However, the songs are well-produced and show musical aptitude, and her straightforward, declamatory lyrics will surely resonate with many listeners. 

 provides at least a few new tracks for someone’s party playlist, as well as the repertoire of songs to release frustration to, which is undoubtedly topical right now.

‘Sawayama’ can’t compete with Rina Sawayama’s previous tracks

is the conceptual, vulnerable third album of electropop singer Empress Of, bringing an evolved sound to her distinct style established with her first two albums. Honduran-American singer Lorely Rodriguez, the woman behind Empress Of, further explores her experience as a first generation American woman and creates a fluid soundtrack to her life experiences.

The album opens with a gradual fade-in of Rodriguez’s mesmerizing repetition of “I’m your Empress Of,” adding layers of a dream pop soundscape. The song crescendos and eventually breaks to a woman explaining the obstacles of learning English, later announcing herself as “Empress Of Mother,” It’s unclear whether she is saying she is the mother of Empress Of or if she is the empress of mother, empathically declaring her ownership over the maternal role. Though possibly an unintended double entendre, her mother’s interlude ushers in the rest of the album’s unapologetic pride surrounding Rodriguez’s identity.

Many of the tracks have a much more upbeat feeling than her pensive previous album, 

. Faster and more party-like, tracks like “Bit of Rain” and “Give Me Another Chance” have up-tempo, syncopated beats, but still with Rodriguez’s signature quick accompanying synth notes. The pleading track “Maybe This Time” provides contrast, featuring a Latin American-influenced beat. These new sound elements are crafted carefully alongside her established sound, culminating in an album that feels like a continuation and elevation of her previous work.

The generally energetic album has interruptions of tenderness. At the beginning of “Void,” Rodriguez’s mother offers the wisdom, “You wanna make yourself the woman / That nobody is gonna mistreat.” She returns for the outro, saying, “‘Woman is a word / but you make yourself the woman you wanna be,” encouraging Rodriguez to take her destiny into her own hands. The quote is also likely a reference to the inspiration behind the track “Woman is a Word” from her previous album 

. Later in the album comes “Hold Me Like Water,” which is a slow, self-reflective song about wanting to know herself better in order to be capable of knowing her partner better. Lyrics like “How can I know, know you better? / Much better now / Hold me closer / Hold me down / Hold me like water” show she is taking a directive in her relationships, listening to her mother’s advice from earlier in the album.

 lulls at certain points, with some songs blending together so much that they feel indistinguishable, it proves Rodriguez’s status as a unique artist. She clearly has a message for those who want to look past her light-hearted dream pop outer appearance. Ultimately, 

 is a powerful declaration of her arrival on the music scene, and she follows through.

‘I’m Your Empress Of’ is a powerful declaration of Empress Of’s arrival on the music scene

Courage is a cultivation of pain yet independence in the wake of tragedy, with Celine Dion’s iconic made-for-ballad vocals, tracked to a variety of tacky instrumentals and synths. As the Canadian singer’s first album since her husband’s death in 2016, the songs explore the grief of losing a loved one and her newfound – albeit sad – independence. Unfortunately, many of the songs indicate a departure from her unique sound in favor of imitating the current genre of mediocre, radio-pop hits.

The album opens with “Flying On My Own”, which is the weakest song on the album. With a chorus made of pulsing synth chords and the same lyric repeated over and over, the message of Dion’s declared independence gets lost in the track’s heavy electronic production. The overproduction isn’t a surprise given David Guetta is a producer of the album, alongside other contemporary pop-hit-makers like Sia, Sam Smith, and Steve Aoki. However, starting with the worst track means the album only improves from there. A few of her later tracks exhibit her world-renowned vocals and frame her thoughtful message in a more tasteful way.

“Falling In Love Again” is the first example of this, where Dion sacrifices the club-like sounds of her first track for a more restrained sound. The understated background instrumentals that leave the emphasis on her smooth voice and hopeful lyrics feel much more like her style.

Immediately following is the album’s far-and-away most exciting moment–the song “Lying Down”. A ballad with many layers of vocals and over-the-stop orchestral string accompaniment, this track’s music is by far the most expressive on the album, with its intensity heightening as the song progresses. Though some may interpret these qualities as corny, they give the song Dion’s quintessential melodrama, reminiscent of hits like “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” and “The Power of Love” from the singer’s peak in fame and recognition.

Most of the album’s remaining tracks are pleasant sounding and undoubtedly showcase Dion’s strong voice, but are hard to discern from one another. There are a few exceptions where some tracks start to approach her 90s sound rather than a generic pop ballad, like “Change My Mind”, and more notably, “Nobody’s Watching”. The latter’s chord progression and syncopated beat make it stand apart from the other tracks. It could almost be mistaken for something from one of her older albums, aside from the opening lyric where she weighs in on PC culture, decrying it with “I’ve had it up to here, up to my neck / With everything politically correct”.

Overall, the album doesn’t provide anything new to the artist’s massive body of work, but after fifteen French albums and eleven English ones, introducing a new sound to her discography was a difficult task, if not an impossible one. The album tried something new by experimenting with current pop styles, and despite the risk, Dion’s impressive vocals and personality shined through. However, the album fell flat either due to poor execution or a mismatch of musical style for Dion’s stature, which made this album a disappointment.

Celine Dion’s experimentation on ‘Courage’ is poorly executed

Vagabon’s self-titled album is a beautiful, albeit sometimes boring, synthetic ride through the imagination of 25-year-old Lætitia Tamko. The second album from the Cameroonian-American multi-instrumentalist attempts to explore the compelling way instruments can be used to create cohesive soundscapes, but at many points lulls and doesn’t completely land due to the stagnancy of the album as a whole.

The balance of the various sounds in each track to create a blended sound is impressive, but oftentimes isn’t enough when paired with often uninteresting vocal melodies. Tamko’s voice has minimal accompaniment on “Secret Medicine,” which could have been transcendental with a more interesting main melody. Despite this, the backing to the track is beautiful, and the instruments are so well-balanced that they are hard to distinguish from each other.

One song where this technique is really effective in creating a captivating composition is “In A Bind.” With plucked guitar arpeggios throughout the song as the only distinguishable instrument, Tamko sings an eerie tune to ominous lyrics such as “I know that I was gone a lot last year / But I’d hope you’d still be here, here, here.” The song goes back and forth between the main melody and spiritual-sounding harmonies. Intriguing and smooth, this song is a standout from the album, overlaying passionate yet subtle instrumentals with melancholic vocal components.

The other standout from the album that accomplishes the same balance and intrigue is “Flood,” which was released as the only single from this album in early summer. The easing in of sound layers throughout the first verse builds to a passionate chorus where Tamko pleads “I know even if I run from it I’m still in it / I know I’ll hold you so close.” The energy is maintained through the rest of the song, and overall has a complex enough composition to keep the listener intrigued.

The two standouts on the album seem out of place on this record, given the instrumental-heavy nature of the other tracks. While the previously mentioned songs are narrative compositions – telling a story with a gripping vocal performance and well-suited instrumentals – most of the others sound like filler tracks where the emphasis is on the music and not the singing, which would be fine if the music was compelling. They lack the passion and sustained energy of “In A Bind” and “Flood,” and they feel static. While “Wits About You” has the potential to be dynamic, the soft and loud sections of the song don’t seem to fit with each other, and the song ends before the components are given the chance to interact.

It’s important to address that there are many white indie rock artists creating similarly static music and achieving genre-wide success doing it. Tamko’s abilities are certainly comparable to those artists, and are deserving of the same recognition and high regard. Despite some filler songs, Tamko’s innovative mind shows through on all the tracks. She clearly has the chops for making complex musical compositions and will have appeal to indie fans with an appreciation for the ethereal, but the album doesn’t commit enough a rock sound to be indie-rock, or to an electric sound enough to be electro-pop. While the album has the potential to capture an audience with Tamko’s breathtaking soundscape-creating abilities, 

 doesn’t fully commit to a sound or narrative enough to transcend beyond easy-listening, “pretty music” status.

Vagabon’s sophomore LP is a lackluster effort

After a four year break since his last album, 36-year old British singer MIKA returns with 

, a fun, somewhat cliché, but nevertheless entertaining fifth album. Filled with lighthearted tracks and lyrics to match, the album sounds like something from much earlier in his discography as it shows no evolution of style or content from his earlier music. Despite this, several of the tracks are catchy and danceable, featuring his impressive vocal capabilities and charming theatrical persona.

The album opens with a rather tacky “Tiny Love”, which cherishes little acts of love rather than grand gestures. The track alternates between slower sections and triumphant, upbeat ones, suggesting that the creators think its message is much deeper than it the lyrics make it out to be (including “It isn’t bursting into song in Central Park / We may be tiny to the world, but in our hearts / We be giants with our tiny, tiny love”). It’s followed by “Ice Cream”, which is inherently an improvement just by the fact that it isn’t trying to be introspective, instead listing off the different ways he desires his love interest using funny and clever summer-related metaphors.

Next is “Dear Jealousy”, which sounds like it would’ve been on the radio in 2015 and is extremely generic, with a steady pop beat and attempted-seductive chord progression. Slowing down for the next track, “Paloma” is a tacky attempt at an emotional pop song with banal lyrics like “Try to fly against the wind / Even with a broken wing / As the sky fell into pieces”.

After a series of disappointing and ordinary sounding tracks, MIKA reminds the listener of his creativity with “Sanremo”. This is virtually the only song on the album that shows any evolution from his established sound, with a sly chorus, ambient vocals, and lyrics that are just vague enough to seem poetic.

He follows with another typical sounding, optimistic pop song, except this one is actually good; “Tomorrow” alters between lower vocal range verses and smooth upper register choruses, keeping the song interesting. It’s nothing revolutionary, but his confession of love and pleasant musical accompaniment make for a sweet song and easy listening. It’s followed by the boring “Ready to Call This Love” featuring Jack Savoretti, whose almost-country, sometimes-raspy low voice seems really out of place on the pop ballad.

Next is “Cry”, which opens with a reference to Grace Jones’ 1985 hit “Slave to the Rhythm”, and continues with a smooth backdrop of synthesized musical noises with the occasional interjection on bass. It’s followed by the oddly High School Musical-sounding “Platform Ballerinas”. It’s essentially another “she’s not like other girls” song, but given the context of MIKA being an openly gay man who has often played with gender expression, it comes across as professing acceptance.

The next track, “I Went to Hell Last Night”, sounds like it’s straight from a musical. It starts slow and builds to a louder chorus, later includes a belted final chorus, and then reprises the beginning of the song for a full-circle conclusion. It features somewhat elementary lyrics like “When you’re dark and you’re sad, and your future’s just as bad”. Arguably the weakest track on the album due to its lack of redeemable qualities in the accompaniment, song structure, and lyrics, it’s followed by the surprisingly poignant and beautiful “Blue”. Swapping brazen instrumentation for barely-there marimba and ambient harmonies, this song exemplifies MIKA’s unexpected knack for raw emotional songs. Lyrics like “Blue is like no other / As sacred as it’s old / Blue like the ocean’s water / But you’re blue when it falls as rain” explore the poeticism of the color and concept of “blue”, repeating the mantra “I will always love the blue in you”.

Following such a touching song comes the complete thematic opposite, “Stay High”, an upbeat song with repetitive lyrics. It feels like this song was just a way to regain energy after the slowness of “Blue”, but ultimately doesn’t add much to the album and isn’t very interesting.

The album ends with an infinitely more dramatic version of “Tiny Love” as its reprise, full with theatrical orchestral interludes and a children’s chorus. The song features verses sung by MIKA’s mother, Joannie, and his sister, Paloma (the namesake for the earlier track). Despite being a little hard to take seriously due to its over-the-top nature, the song ends with a verse that concludes the album nicely and on a sweet note, with MIKA saying “And if it all goes bad / And our love sets like the sun / I’d give up a hundred thousand loves / For just this one”, which feels like he’s summing up the message that he – whether or not effectively – has tried to convey throughout the album.

The album’s jump between theatrics, generic sugary-pop tracks, and randomly poignant lyricism makes the overall body of work come across as tacky. It seems as though audiences probably won’t see any more hits of the likes of “Grace Kelly” from him, but as MIKA has 

, “I have completely abandoned any kind of worry about what people may or may not think about my music.”

 isn’t intended as a testament to his staying power or elaborate proof of his wide-range musical capabilities, but rather the product of a liberated new attitude where he can disregard what anybody thinks, and that in and of itself makes the album an enjoyment.

MIKA is liberated on ‘My Name Is Michael Holbrook’

H.E.R.’s full-length “I Used to Know Her” is an emotionally turbulent but triumphant album, displaying the artist’s impressive vocal performance and seamless production. A compilation of 

, this album shows 22 year-old Gabriella Wilson’s profound songwriting skills and presents a diverse blend of both sorrowful and sultry tracks.

The album starts off with the cleverly-worded “Lost Souls,” a groovy, spoken-word track reminiscent of ‘90s hip hop, complete with record-scratch sounds and a collaboration with DJ Scratch. It is immediately followed by the slower and much more emotionally charged “Fate”; with solemn piano and building orchestral music throughout the song, she begs “Can you forgive all of my sins? / Have mercy on me.” The tonal juxtaposition of the first two songs preps the listener for the dynamic range of emotions that follows.

Next is the quicker-paced, but instrumentally restrained “Carried Away.” It’s driven by a prominent acoustic guitar and catchy baseline, and topped off with H.E.R.’s easygoing and falsetto-filled melody.

A series of four consecutive songs, midway through the album, detail the arc of a relationship. Starting with the full version of 

 “Be On My Way,” H.E.R.’s layered harmonies and gentle beat accompany the heartbreaking lyrics, “I’ll be on my way / I’m no good if I stay.” After the realizations expressed in this track, she reconciles the realities of her relationship in the devastatingly beautiful “Can’t Help Me.” This leads into “Something Keeps Pulling Me Back,” a new song for this album exploring the struggles of leaving, before revealing the toxic impact of this person on “Feel A Way.”

“21,” the second new track for this album, lightens the mood with its take on a coming-of-age song in which Wilson reflects on the accomplishments she’s had at her age. This song is followed by “Racks” featuring TBN Cordae, another new and more upbeat track. These two lighter-hearted songs serve as a sort of intermission to the story of her tumultuous relationship.

Next, is the pleasant, but somewhat generic-sounding “Against Me.” It doesn’t hold up compared to the other profound lyrical pieces on the album, but its saving grace is H.E.R.’s spoken part that starts with “To my women with the utmost respect, intellect / We often forget and neglect intuition can see through illusive intent,” analyzing the role of women in relation to men. Despite the less interesting musicality of the track, the prose of the second half of the song sheds light on Wilson’s thought process and introspection, enabling the listener to connect with her music by listening to her thoughts directly.

The highlight of the album, and arguably the best track, is the extended version of 

’s “Good to Me,” which is by far the most honest song on the album. After opening with an audio clip of Wilson rehearsing the track in a studio, the song’s lyrics detail the back-and-forth thought patterns of wanting to be with a person, while also needing to be treated with more respect in order to do so.Wilson’s extremely impressive vocals reflect the pleading nature of the lyrics. The chorus has a series of quiet, completely steady held-out notes, showing a balance of restrained volume and tonality that not everyone can achieve. To top it off, the second half of the song features audio of H.E.R.’s rehearsal again, this time hearing her as she attempts to articulate what she wants to convey in this very song. The accompaniment from the song remains throughout this audio, blurring the lines between the post-production track and the behind-the-scenes audio, and further creating a sense of intimacy.

The next two songs seem like the final tracks of the saga of her relationship. “Take You There” and “As I Am” feel like triumphs after the trials of the relationship depicted thus far. In the former, she professes, “With you Heaven is a place on earth / And I will take you there.” She then confidently declares that “You know I’m the best / You’d be a fool not to take me as I am,” her confidence giving the listener a sigh of relief after hearing nearly an hour of Wilson struggling.

The last three songs are separate from the rest of the album: the light-hearted single version of “Hard Place” from 

a live version of melancholic new track “Uninvited,” and another new track, the solemn and spiritual “Lord is Coming.”

H.E.R.’s effortless voice pulls the listener in easily, but then stuns with her profound lyrics and sorrowful relationship arc. Wilson’s ability to convey such honesty while simultaneously providing a masterfully pieced-together array of songs resulted in a really powerful piece of work, one which will undoubtedly touch its listeners on an emotional, musical, and personal level.

H.E.R.’s ‘I Used to Know Her’ is triumphant

Seeing Raveena live was cathartic, calming, and beautiful, and overall a testament to how gentle and accepting her fan base is because of the inclusive community she’s created with her music. The venue was a cozy, local, family-owned establishment with a chandelier adorned with colorful fake jewelry, flowery carpet throughout the entire building, and bathroom stall walls completely covered in elaborate doodles of the Simpsons. The free water and availability of chairs at the back of the room encouraged movement throughout the space even during the show, creating a sense of comfort through the whole night. The venue fostered an environment of relaxation and community that suits Raveena’s persona.

The show started with Dianna Lopez, a 23-year old R&B singer described by NPR as an “

”. She performed lively songs like “So I Don’t Feel Useless” and “Predictable”, getting everyone dancing, followed by slower ones like “Blu” and her rendition of Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze”. She interacted with the crowd often throughout her set, even making a joke that she knows the audience “is into purple haze because this is Boston and I know that’s what you do here!” She twirled around the stage as she performed what felt like not nearly enough songs, coming across as a truly sweet and humble performer who was grateful for the chance to be on stage.

Dianna Lopez opening for Raveena’s Lucid Tour at ONCE in Somerville. Photo by Kenia Arbaiza for WRBB.

The audience waited for Raveena in anticipation while watching her stagehands set up a green sixties-style rug, several large paper maché mushrooms, and a flower-adorned mic stand to accompany the giant moon backdrop with the words “Lucid” hanging across the stage. When the intro to “Stronger” from her new album started to glimmer through the venue, the audience screamed with enthusiasm and got even louder when she stepped out on stage and began to sing. Raveena then addressed the crowd and thanked everyone for being there, then went on to talk about the content of her songs–many of which are about recovering from trauma and using it to become stronger. “If anyone here is experiencing similar things, know that you are loved,” she affirmed. The crowd’s amiability during all moments leading up to this brought a greater sense of truth to this statement.

After her more well-known song “If Only”, from her debut EP 

, she quieted the crowd so she could conduct some meditation. With only a distant ambient piano note lingering in the background, Raveena led everyone in a relaxing breathing exercise and spoke affirmations to “clear our energies”. Working off of the quiet she created, she went into “Petal”, the ethereal closing song of 

 that features a sound-looped three-part harmony of her voice throughout the entire song, which she created live with a loop machine. The audience stayed quiet, fascinated with her delicate performance that Pitchfork eloquently described as a “

She continued with “Honey” and the more upbeat “Love Child”, at which point Raveena invited the audience to repeat after her once she taught the lyrics. Throughout the show, she seemed primarily interested in creating an inclusive musical experience for everyone in the room.

From the back of the room, the diversity of the audience was note-worthy: there were a handful of middle-aged adults taking advantage of the limited comfortable seating lining the back of the venue, in addition to the overwhelmingly college-aged demographic. There was also a mother with her two very young children dancing and singing along to the music. People soon took notice of the kids and couldn’t resist joining them, causing a mini dance party to emerge.

The sense of community was strong throughout the entire night; strangers were becoming friends, and a vast array of demographics was present (particularly South Asian women, whose experiences Raveena often specifically 

). It was clear that fans felt seen and touched by her work, and that the relatability and charm of her music was only amplified by seeing her in person.

Raveena @ ONCE Ballroom

Days of the Bagnold Summer (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)

The newest release from seasoned, indie-pop band Belle & Sebastian is the bittersweet, mellow soundtrack for the film 

, a British coming-of-age comedy set to release next month based on the 2012 novel by Joff Winterhart. This film gets added to Belle & Sebastian’s impressive track list of movies and TV shows featuring their songs, including 

Forgetting Sarah Marshall, The Devil Wears Prada, One Tree Hill, 

 to name a few. However, this is only their second full album created entirely for a film (the first being their album 

which was the score for the 2002 film of the same name).

Belle & Sebastian’s signature musical and vocal style makes them the perfect candidates for creating a film soundtrack. Their melodies and lyrics are bittersweet, and the instrumentals are easy on the ears, enabling the music to either blend into the background or effectively highlight the tumultuous emotions present in a film about adolescence. Lead singer Stuart Murdoch’s voice is gentle and almost instrumental in nature, and easily fits into a composition for a music score.

Ignoring the context of the album being a soundtrack, and strictly speaking of the sound and content itself, 

pales in comparison to the energy of some of the band’s past albums. Its sound is consistent with Belle & Sebastian’s musical history and demonstrates their ability to maintain their distinctive style, but it shows little evolution from the album preceding this one (

How to Solve Our Human Problems, Parts 1-3)

. After a few of the songs, the first half of the album starts to blend together, due to a consistently slow tempo and somewhat pared-down instrumentals. Though for many people these characteristics are disqualifiers for casual listening, for a soundtrack these are all accomplishments. The ease of one song into the next makes sense for an album that will be heard as a full, in-order body of work when viewers see the movie. The less elaborate instrumentals allow the album to support a film, rather than distract movie-goers from the plot.

Despite the lack of distinction between some of the songs, there were a few standouts that made the album shine, even as a separate entity from the film. “Jill Pole”, one of the instrumental pieces on the album with no lyrics, stood out due to its full, almost orchestral sound. The melody is played on a harmonica, which is in a higher range than the rest of the instruments. Halfway through the song, a lower violin and a plucking banjo come in, creating a dynamic soundscape. The end of the song slows down, and right as the song is about to stop, the instruments soften and ease into a new key in preparation for the next song. After spending three minutes capturing the listener in a trance, the last chord pulls them back out to remind them that this is a movie soundtrack, where no song truly stands alone and each one is part of a larger body of work.

Midway through the album, listeners are blessed with “Safety Valve”, the second real stand out from the collection. “Safety Valve” has a faster-tempo than most of the album’s other songs, reminiscent of iconic past hits like “Sukie in the Graveyard” (

2006) and “The Boy with the Arab Strap” (

1998). Between verses, a violin uses arpeggios to climb back and forth between major and minor chords, creating solemn interludes as interruptions in the otherwise mostly major chords. It’s simple, but extremely beautiful. During the quieter, pensive bridge of the song, vocalist Sarah Martin harmonizes on the lyrics, “I’m not in a good place, I know I’ll get better / but just for tonight, take me away,” creating a multi-dimensional, thoughtful break in the music before diving back into the song.

The rest of the album includes some interesting songs, like the ethereal “The Colour’s Gonna Run”, and the eerie, quiet “Another Day, Another Night.” “Sister Buddha” will also likely catch the listener’s attention before the album concludes, with its louder electric guitars, twinkling synth noises, driving beat, and trumpet harmonies.

Overall, the album sounds perfectly suitable for a film about being a teenager in a world that feels like a stressful place, which is the exact situation that ultimately brought many listeners to Belle & Sebastian’s music. Though they might not be bringing anything new or unheard of to the genre, the band’s long career has permitted them to take a break from attempting an innovative music-maker status, given the prowess that they’ve already accomplished and the reputation that they’ve upheld. 

 represents Belle & Sebastian’s durability in the music industry as consistent, reliable artists, and their fans and movie-goers alike will be able to see that.

Belle & Sebastian score ‘Days of the Bagnold Summer’

A pleasant enough collection of energetic and thoughtful songs, Shakey Graves’ 

 is okay, and will probably be put into my collection of things to listen to in the background while doing homework. It’s the perfect album if you want to focus on something that isn’t the album, so it’s not necessarily the most interesting or fresh thing you’ve heard in a while. Though all the songs start to blend together after a while and sound the same, it isn’t really that bad, and was an agreeable album to have on in the background of a day where I wasn’t doing anything else more interesting.

Born Alejandro Rose-Garcia, Shakey Graves got his stage name from his friends when they gave each other 

“Indian guide names” at a music festival in 2007

. Graves has an impressive track record of involvement with musicians like Edward Sharpe and Mumford & Sons, as well as TV show appearances before entering the world of music. His fifth album, released three years after his last, is an assortment of songs of the Americana genre for which he has gained recognition.

I hadn’t heard of Shakey Graves until the release of this album. Given it was introduced to me by an eye-catching banner on my Spotify homepage, I was hoping to be blown away by an introspective album by a new artist I could get really into. With those expectations, I was a bit disappointed; the album didn’t sound that different from a lot of other music where a dude with a guitar sings about what it would be like to have a more interesting life. This is particularly exemplified in the song ‘Dining Alone,’ whose tired chorus is “I wonder what it’s like to fly a plane / To meet a girl on a Friday night / And wake up next to her on Saturday / To swim across the ocean blue / To walk a mile upon the moon…But it’s getting late, this restaurant is closing / I guess I’d better go.” It’s pretty much the most boring description of an existential crisis ever.

If I had gone in with the expectations of hearing a dude with a guitar singing about what it would be like to have a more interesting life, then I’d probably be a bit more impressed, because some of the tracks were arguably more innovative than others doing the same type of music as Graves.

If there was one song from the album I might actually listen to again, it would be ‘Aibohphobia.’ It starts out with a tune that sounds like the accompaniment of Marx Brothers-era silent slapstick comedy, and it continues through the entire song, mixing with his usual instrumentals and contemporary vocal style. There was one other song that stood out to me after listening to the whole album, which was the opener ‘Counting Sheep.’ However, I think I only liked it for nostalgic reasons because it sounded like a lot of the music I listened to at the beginning of high school (back when everyone was starting to act too cool for mainstream music). ‘Counting Sheep,’ like most of the tracks on the album, was generic indie-dude music. It’s good, but nothing special.

Overall, I wanted to like the album, but I really just couldn’t. He seems like a nice enough guy; his hometown mayor even proclaimed February 9 

, where all Graves’ albums are available at an accessible pay-as-you-want rate on Bandcamp. He seems like a down to earth artist who is just trying to make relatable music, but it just comes across as a little too mundane in the process. It wasn’t a bad album, but it wasn’t a great one. I would listen to it again if I needed a soundtrack to my late night studying; if I was at a friend’s house and they put on the album, I would be polite and tell them “Nice choice!” But other than that, the album seems like an attempt at being approachable that ended up just being boring, coming across as pleasant at best.

Shakey Graves releases full-length ‘Can’t Wake Up’

featuring Dazey and the Scouts, Melissa Lozada-Oliva, and Oompa

Palehound’s show at the Sinclair was an immensely empowering and energetic experience — it was so much more than I could have imagined. The night’s lineup provided the audience with a diverse array of performance. The range of forms of expression represented by the different acts left the audience empowered and in high spirits.

Dazey and the Scouts opened the show with a bang, performing songs off their 2017 album 

 Their energy was infectious, evident from the bobbing heads all throughout the venue. Lead singer Lea Jaffe embodied an astounding balance of anger and tenderness with her mix of near-yelling and fairy-like vocals. It was refreshing to see a woman be unabashedly loud and expressive while still embracing traditional femininity through splashes of tender vocals.

Poet Melisa Lozada-Oliva followed the exciting opener. Her presence was a charming combination of awkwardness and hilarity that she described as “the Latina Zooey Deschanel” (bangs included). Her poems detailed the experiences of being a Latina woman who grew up with immigrant parents, using a combination of wit and intensity that captivated the room so strongly that the room was silent. She read poems from her book 

, which included topics such as privilege, representation, emotional labor, and men being condescending. Many moments elicited whooping cheers in agreement and support. Her presence on stage was powerful as she spoke with poise and elegance, while still being relatable to an audience with similar experiences to hers.

Oompa’s performance prepped the audience for Palehound by energizing everyone with soulful instrumentals, empowering lyrics, and spirited messages. I honestly am struggling to describe the experience of standing before them during their performance without saying the words “energetic” and “empowering” ad nauseam, because that’s truly was what it was. Their music was beautiful and their content empowering, especially to the marginalized communities the music spoke about. The vibe of the room was incredible with people dancing and jumping as she flawlessly executed her quick vocals. Partway through her performance, she took a moment to address the issue of marginalized people often made to feel like they don’t deserve to take up space, and she encouraged the audience members to allow those people to take up space that night. After speaking to her briefly after the show, it was evident how genuine and Oompa is, and that she enjoys what she does so fully that it shined through the entire performance.

Palehound was met with an ecstatic audience after two hours of empowering acts. The Sinclair had been filling up gradually throughout the night and by this point, it was totally packed. The band’s setlist mostly included songs from their 2017 sophomore album, which focused a lot on lead singer Ellen Kempner’s experiences with loss and finding her place in the queer community (

which we discussed in our interview before the show

). Watching Palehound perform was such a treat. Their movement onstage was heartwarming and it was clear they were having the time of their lives, bouncing to their own music and exchanging smiles with each other throughout the set.

Kempner’s execution of ‘Molly’ seemed effortless despite the quick and intricate guitar work, showcasing her raw talent. Bassist Larz Brogan was nearly jumping around the stage during the upbeat songs, moving back and forth with her bass so much that she was basically just dancing with an instrument in her hands. During instrumental breakdowns in the livelier songs, Kempner would back up from her mic a bit and dance as well, often facing Brogan as they both played out their parts with big smiles. Watching the band felt so genuine, they just seemed like friends jamming out together for fun. Except really, really good. When performing ‘Backseat (A Place I’ll Always Go)’, Brogan looked so at peace she may as well have been floating in the air. There was minimal talking between each song, which was a cool musical experience. Listening to the band perform was like listening to them on shuffle, but in real life.

This show was incredibly refreshing because of the dynamic display of strong women all bringing their personal experiences and talents to the stage and a diverse audience through an eclectic set of performance mediums. To see women able to express themselves in whatever way suited them — whether it be loud, poetic, in a sweatshirt, or dancing around stage — was pretty incredible. During times of stress for many marginalized communities in a difficult political realm often inciting dangerous behavior upon these groups, it was liberating to see a group of powerful women who represent these communities and how strong they are. Throughout the show, I kept thinking about how glad I am to be able to live in a time where there are spaces where all women — queer women, women of color, first generation American women — can express themselves without fear. Seeing this show was proof of strength and the ability of women to take their experiences, make careers and art centered on those experiences, and succeed at it.

Palehound @ The Sinclair

“The album should not only be cherished for its interspersed moments of experimentation, but also for maintaining the distinct sound that they have curated over years, which fans would be distraught to lose.”

Belle & Sebastian’s new album conjures up a mix of the ethereal, upbeat, and existential energy, living up to the high expectations they have set for themselves after what has now been decades of success. The middle piece of a three-part, 

 is not only a logical progression to its first part released a month earlier, but also logical in the context of the band’s career. There are moments throughout 

 that show experimentation while also continuing the style of their past nine studio albums and eight EPs. It is an impressive feat for a band to grow and experiment while still maintaining such a distinct sound for so long, and the album proves proves that this is not going to change any time soon.

The LP starts off with ‘Show Me the Sun,’ a cheery sounding song that has some poignant, mellow moments interspersed through the song. It starts off with several voices chanting an upbeat tune, followed by a guitar riff that gets repeated as a motif throughout the rest of the song. I was surprised when the beginning part of the song reminded me of the music I used to listen to when I first discovered “alternative” in eighth or ninth grade – it struck me as very Arctic Monkeys or the Black Keys-esque, a vibe not often associated with Belle & Sebastian. However, as soon as Sarah Martin’s vocals kicked in, the balance between the driving beat behind the song and her delicate voice culminated in a distinct sound that can only be recognized as quintessentially them.

The second and third songs also use their signature style of song: spirited while mellow and always contemplative. ‘The Same Star’ builds towards the end to be quite energetic by the end of the song with a long guitar solo followed by an emphatic melody on trumpet, but slows down for ‘I’ll Be Your Pilot,’ a soothing ode to a loved one. Loaded with emotional oboe solos, the song is contemplative and soft without being less energetic than the others.

Picking up the pace again with the anxious-sounding ‘Cornflakes,’ this eerie confessional of a song is the audio equivalent of someone being on thin ice with their significant other. Murdoch’s repetition of lyrics in combination with the fast-paced tapping of the drum’s cymbal throughout the entire song makes it sound like the song itself is nervous. It includes lyrics such as “As long as there’s / As long as there’s / As long as there’s a song in there / I’ll sing to myself / I’ll pray for myself / I won’t have a care”. The music descends into chaos towards the end of the song and synthetic noises start happening, giving the song an even more heightened sense of anxiety. My personal favorite on the album, ‘Cornflakes’ epitomizes the band’s ability to make anything work in their music as long as the lyrics and vocals are existential enough.

The album wraps up with ‘A Plague on Other Boys,’ a perfect resolution to the rising action and climactic chaos of the preceding songs, acting as a combination of everything from the EP leading up to that moment. It is mellow, steady, and has the quintessential sound that they have developed and maintained throughout their career. It has a relaxing albeit slightly chilling flute solo that is so smooth it almost sounds fake (which it might be). The oboe reprises for more meditative melodies for the instrumental solos. And finally, Sarah Martin’s subtle supporting vocal part was the perfect final touch to conclude the album. Her voice in this song embodies the tone and atmosphere of the band’s music overall.

Certain qualities of the album, especially as described in the final song, remind us that more than anything, Belle & Sebastian will always deliver. Regardless of any experimentation they might try, they can be relied on to bring that iconic celestial sound. Though the album is to be admired for the group’s ability to try new things after being an established group for so long, it should also be cherished for maintaining the distinct sound that they have curated over years, which fans would be distraught to lose.

Laura Shrago