Bubster

The album opens with its title track, which acts as a hook for the rest of the project. Arguably, it's the most stereotypically punk song on the record, utilizing standard electric guitar sounds, yet even then it doesn't quite fit its mold. The guitars are cleanly mixed in a way that makes more room for some killer bass, a common throughline throughout the project. It also works to set the tone, reminding the listener that London Calling is a punk album, regardless of how it sounds. It's anxiety inducing, creating an aura of fear bolstered by Paul Simonon's menacing bass and the thick power chords synchronized with the militaristic drumming. It feels as if a big and irreversible change is about to happen, which is not only true for the record, but echoes Strummer's thoughts about where the world was headed at the time. From here, the records jumps to the high-energy, rockabilly "Brand New Cadillac," a cover of the 1959 song by the same name by Vince Taylor. The song demonstrates Strummer's great vocals; despite being similar in tone to the original, the cover sounds much more visceral and passionate. The jump between the first two songs exemplifies The Clash's versatility, and the variety between each song only grows larger as the record continues.

This album's varied offerings are one of its strongest points. For example, right after the rocking "Brand New Cadillac," a complete switch occurs as the band moves into jazz music with the aptly titled "Jimmy Jazz," a semi-improvised, bluesy story of an outlaw. This song is a statement: They're throwing the musical conventions of punk music out the window, at least sonically. The album's cover art, which is reminiscent to Elvis Presley's debut album, furthers the notion that The Clash cannot be contained. Instead of happily singing like the original cover, they're smashing the guitar in anger. Ironically, the lack of punk sound is the ultimate act of defiance. The variety only increases with the band taking influence from reggae, soul, and even pop on the track "Train in Vain (Stand by Me)." The band succeeds in every genre they jump into, with songs like "Rudie Can't Fail" that both serve as a respectable reggae-adjacent song on it's own as well as a proper punk song. Despite the band leaping between all kinds of music, there is never doubt about the band's leanings.

The Clash have always been rebellious by nature, and London Calling s no different. Even in the songs furthest away from the punk sound typical of the time, the lyrics are drenched in counterculture ideals. Tracks such as "Koka Kola" and "Lost In The Supermarket" are very much departures from the band's usual sound, yet both are scathingly clever critiques of capitalism and consumerism. The record is ceaseless in its disdain for the UK and other government powers, even in its most lighthearted moments such as the aforementioned "Train in Vain (Stand by Me)," which talks about how difficult being a young person can be when you're overworked and underpaid. There are of course some clear-cut songs, like "The Guns of Brixton," where Simonon sings about going out on his own terms over one of the most intimidating bass lines I've ever heard, but there are also certain songs loaded with metaphors. "The Card Cheat" is an epic set against a huge soundscape (which the band achieved by layering the instrumental over itself) about a gambler cheating in a card game, but in reality is about how the rich essentially cheat in life, with the king of spades up his sleeve being the king of Britain. Regardless of how obvious the message of a song may be, there should be no takeaway that The Clash is anything but punk.

Overall, this album is a phenomenal exploration of just what music can be when you have no boundaries. It exists in protest, turning anything it can find into acts of revolution, proving all art is political by taking previously existing works and recontextualizing them. Simply appearing on the album is making a statement. Its unprecedented length, stellar prose, and huge variety makes London Calling an album that offers something new upon each listen, and changed what punk music would be forever. It is all held together by synergy between bandmates, as every instrument works so well with one another, building on each other flawlessly to create one of the most historical records ever.

Favourite song: Lost In The Supermarket

Least favourite: Lover's Rock

The album comes out swinging with "Year of Dog Food," arguably one of the most avant-garde songs it has to offer. At first, the squeaking cacophony of the saxophone sounds a bit off-putting, but it quickly grows on you, keeping you on your toes the entire way through. Quickly, the squeaking noise further finds its place as the exciting drums build up throughout. By the end, any preconceived notion about the album's enjoyability has faded away and you're treated to an absolute banger of a song. After the exciting opening track, you're treated to "holding_hands_at_the_duck_pond.swf," a surprisingly comfortable song, despite it being littered with all sorts of digital noise. Behind all the loud computing, there's a relaxed, fun vibe that feels like you're walking in the park of a video game, wandering with no objective. Converse to it's oddly calming predecessor, "AI HATE SPEECH MACHINE" is a wonderfully unnerving experience. The first thing you hear is antiquated synthetic voice, similar to one you'd find in a cheap 90's edutainment computer game, getting an answer to an unknown question correct. I've always found those types of voices very uncanny, so I was on edge from the beginning of the track. The rest of the song stays very understated, the only compliment to the robotic voice being some entrancing horns and some very deep drums. It feels like you're listening to an AI learn to hate, and exemplifies the album's ability to put you in a certain mood very well. Unfortunately, there is a bit of a lull before it puts you in a such a place again.

While "17.9% Apr" continues with the usage of unsettling, robotic voices and keeps the energy of the previous song, it ends too quickly. Originally, I thought it to be a neat little bridge between the song before and after it, but that is not the case. The next run of songs all clock in at under one minute in length, which sucks because they all bring interesting ideas to the table. Even though I thought the opening cry of "4chan Wedding" was extraordinarily out of place, even for how eclectic the rest of the project is, it has an amazing jazz section that is extremely danceable and potentially one of my favourite bits of playing on the record; alas, it just ends somewhat abruptly. There are quite a few songs that I found myself bobbing my head to that would end right when you become invested. Some songs, such as "Dangerous Playground" feel unfinished, and if it lasted a minute longer, would be absolutely be a phenomenal song. Because of their short length, these songs begin to feel like filler, and filler is especially unfortunate here as the record is only 23 minutes. Luckily, it gets back into its groove pretty quickly.

After the lull, it picks back up right where it left off, "Cleaning On Speed" is such an energetic song that brings back the rest of the album's pace. It's a melting pot of the highest strings a piano can muster, a very rich (yet still squeaky) saxophone, and very fast rhythmic clapping that I definitely could not keep up with at a concert. Like the rest of the more jazz focused songs, it's a very dense soundscape, always providing something new to find upon relisten without ever being completely overwhelming. As previously stated, one of the project's greatest strengths is its ability to engage the listener and bring them into a specific place. Each song has a theme, and it gets nailed pretty consistently. "True Love Can Only Happen Once In A Thousand Years" demonstrates this pretty well, being a more melancholic, laidback tune. It uses an extremely slow tempo to put your mind at ease, and almost feels like you're at a jazz lounge, just listening to the performance quietly at the back of the bar. The record finds itself a balance of high energy parties and calming respite, each setting making the other feel more enjoyable when switching between the two.

As boisterous as it can be, Amazing Investment Opportunity does well not to overload itself too much, giving the listener time to process what's happening while mostly keeping fresh. It's chock full of interesting artistic decisions and really good instrumentals that make sure it's never too inaccessible. I particularly enjoyed the synergy between the drums and the saxophone, and the rare points of electric guitar were always a highlight as well. Though some bewildering and off-putting cries and screams can be heard throughout, I think it's in the nature of experimental noise music to not always be super congruent in every song. The thematic mixture of retro technology and horn-driven jazz give an extremely unique and oddly classy touch to the record that simply makes you feel good when listening. Overall, I absolutely enjoyed most of my time listening to it, though often I was left wanting just a little bit more. I highly suggest you check it out if you're looking for something you can just vibe to, as you'll find that for the most part, it's an amazing time investment opportunity.

Favourite song: AI HATE SPEECH MACHINE

Least favourite: Stuart Little Big Dick

The opening track, "Goldfish," is one of the record's most relaxed songs, which both prepares you for it's lyrical contents and lulls you into thinking the rest of the album will keep the same pace. This was consciously done by Jane to cause uncertainty on what the rest of the project would sound like. It perfectly puts you in the headspace the album was written with, that being one of confusion. To contrast this, "Your Clothes" explodes with energy right from the get go, which truly sets the tone, being fast, loud, and distorted. As much as I love the idea of the first song being a bait and switch for this one, it doesn't quite stick the landing. The energy is great, but there were some odd mixing and writing choices that made me question how I would feel about the rest of the songs. The opening's guitars were too drowned out and felt quiet in comparison to the rest of the sound. This was coupled with some lyrics that felt out of place like "you're picking your berries, revenge is so sweet," which feels strangely childish compared to the rest of the record. Luckily, its only a small blemish.

Frailty is one of the most creative and innovative albums I've heard in a long time. The risks it takes are things I wouldn't even dream of doing, owing to Jane Remover's resourcefulness as an artist. This is no better demonstrated by the fact that no matter how distorted, loud, and aggressive the guitars sound, its all acoustic. Just because she didn't own an electric guitar while recording the album, Jane comes up with some of the coolest guitar tones I've ever heard on this. Songs like "Pretender" sound exactly like a heavily pitched down telecaster, yet it's just a humble acoustic and a boatload of talent. Another strong musical aspect is its usage of digital sound effects and 16-bit chiptune. Computer bleep bloops are all over the record, which aside from blending really well with the hyperactive synths and drums, creates a sense of feeling like a kid again. It feels like you're being brought back to a simpler time that you never wanted to leave, which does wonders in communicating its themes of growing up and discovering oneself.

This album keeps its themes very tight, with a clear focus on discovering your own identity and how turbulent the last few years of school can be, especially during a pandemic. Feeling like you're developmentally stunted, especially compared to your peers is a common topic, and one I personally relate to. Songs like "Champ" explore how the chaos of growth can often lead to depression because of hard it is to cope with change. The second half of the record especially feels like Jane is spiraling out of control, letting herself rot in bed as a means to cling on to whatever childhood she has left before realizing that it's not healthy to be stuck in the past. Halfway through "Eyes Off The Wheel, I'm A Star," there's an epiphany that while change is inevitable, it's not something that is inherently bad and it only hurts worse if you deny it. The album is very well balanced between both overbearing and fun songs, with the lighter and cleaner songs such as "Kodak Moment" feeling like a beacon of hope in the ocean of sadness. Despite how hopeless this project may come off as, it's ultimately a work of euphoria.

On top of everything else, this album is very well sampled and inspired, its soundscape reminding me of some Beach House records and at times even UNDERTALE's soundtrack. Even though it wears a lot of its inspiration on its sleeve, literally sampling songs from Pokémon and 3DS menu screens, it transforms them in so many unconventional ways that I am consistently blown away. There were multiple moments where I would recognize a style of music or sample and just sit there stunned because of what was going on around it. While sampling is pretty common practice in the world of EDM and hyperpop, I think Frailty not only pushes its boundaries, but smashes right through them. This record has an overabundance of creative decisions with only the odd misstep when it comes to mixing, and I think the record will only grow on me as time goes on. It beautifully explores topics of how hard life can be on the cusp of adulthood and the struggle is only worsened by both other people and yourself. The album ends with the idea that despite everything going on around you, life will work out and it will get better. No matter what, at the end of the day you're still you, and you're still living.

Favourite song: Pretender

Least favourite: Your Clothes

On the record, every song flows so seamlessly into one another that despite the fact I've listened to every song individually probably hundreds of times, I am always invested the full way through. There is no song that takes you out of the experience or makes you do a double take; it's a front to back vibe that sucks you in effortlessly. The blaring synths and distorted guitars all over the album give way to an angst that is so addicting you can't turn it off. This is the band's noisiest and arguably most raw endeavor, and they use that noise to deliver some of the most energetic tracks they have ever produced.

The album opens by hitting you with a brick of a song, "Ways To Make It Through The Wall." This song is a loud, self-loathing banger of a tone set, showing off just how different this album is from their debut. This is an intentional reference to their song "My Year In Lists" where Gareth says that "hope is tantamount to hopelessness," and works wonders to show you that this is something new. That hopeless feeling translates into a series of failed relationships throughout the album. Whether it's looking back into memories of failed romances in "Miserabilia" or realizing you've been forgotten about on "It's Never That Easy Though, Is It?," there's always an acute sense of nostalgia that permeates the project, no matter the subject.

Despite its often boisterous production, it doesn't go without it's moments of sincerity that can just be crushing when coming right after the rest of this record. Songs like "You'll Need Those Fingers For Crossing" and "Heart Swells/Pacific Daylight Time" are brutal yearnings for past partners, even if neither person deserved the other. These songs act as payoffs to all the wit and angst, showing that no matter how cocky Gareth may come off, he's not the image he projects as; he's as vulnerable and regretful as anyone else. These songs are more subdued and by nature, they really show off Ellen's superb bass talents, Tom's killer riffs (especially on "You'll Need Those Fingers For Crossing"), and of course Gareth's signature glockenspiel.

Overall, We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed is an excitingly loud entry into the LC! discography that delivers on everything it promises to, and then some. It features some of the band's tightest, most poetic writing, talking about futures as bright as halogens and writing letters to God as a means to win Pascal's wager. The entire album feels like a bittersweet, melancholic and romanticized trip down memory lane that ultimately acknowledges that while there was beauty in past flings, they were ultimately doomed.

Favorite song: We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed

Least favourite: N/A