Mandy, Indiana — i’ve seen a way
The urgent and astounding debut crashes against the void
For years now we have been marching, if not stomping, forward. Covid struck and launched a new era of kings and, well, mostly kings. Many chugged onward as though they could attain some greater purpose simply by flipping burgers. Many more learned they made more money if they simply quit working. In return, those who stayed employed were thanked with an astounding flyover by our nation’s finest, most expensive jets. I was ringing up organic celery in a beige cardigan psychotically cackling at the lunacy of it all. At that moment, I hit the proverbial wall, that moment when everything halts, silences, heightens, and feels explosive. It is a razor slice of a moment, yet intense enough to be felt even now. I hit that wall then and started revolting.
i’ve seen a way, the debut album from Mandy, Indiana poses the question, ‘if given the chance to extend the moment of hitting the wall, to scream blankly back into the void, what would you say? And how long would you say it?’ There is no denying the rise of fascism across the globe, along with the censorship of women in arts. It is impossible to say the cost of living is reasonable for anyone anymore, as even billionaires are so unreasonable they should not exist. We are marching, if not stomping, towards a hellish future.
There is a raw and brutal outlook throughout much of the album. While sung in French, the anger is easily palpable. “Drag [Crashed]” is searing chastisements of purity culture followed by “Pinking Shears” that feels as wobbly as a Ballard novel or as guitarist Fair prefers, Titane. It feels like looking back on trauma after having a few too many. A hell of a way to introduce themselves after the Mass Effect reminiscent opener.
Perhaps the most profound thing on the album is the nothing. It is easy to see the gimmick of recording in an empty shopping center on an anti fascist/capitalist record. Yet what they have done is something truly special. By using empty shopping centers, crypts, and caves, they have found a way to masterfully capture the emptiness. The void looms, forever haunting in the wake of a crash. It is as unsettling as the single tone of No Country for Old Men. Never increasing, never fading, just always present.
One of the last things expected at the moment of impact is the ability to smile or laugh. Mandy, Indiana has found ways to sneak in cracks of hope and joy. Singer Valentine Caulfield has listed the games Dear Esther and Bioshock as core influences to the project. While that certainly shines through in the golden art deco metal clangs of percussion and the Ayn Rand ideals of Rapture, there are plenty of fun game hints, too. Within “Injury Detail”, I swear I could hear the Battletoads pause screen beat. “Driving Rain 18” oscillates between the funky groove of Mega Man and the maximalist slams of Hotline Miami. “Injury Detail” warns of the normalization of conflict solved by violence by using a fighting game trope.
“Iron Maiden” fittingly is the darkest of the album. A thrum in a cave layered atop screaming. A primal, cathartic release that is incredibly understood. Peaks of light spring forth into the cave by way of the keyboard. I imagine it looked similar to the album’s cover. At our core we are all screaming at the wall. Everyday. Over and over.
i’ve seen a way closes with “Sensitivity Training”, an entanglement of the imperial stomping by the percussion with the drunken spaghetti march of the twang jangled guitar. At all times Mandy, Indiana are aware of what is ahead of them. At all times they see the wall and its ever impending distance. They’re just deciding how to beautifully crash into it.
4.0/5.0
I’ve seen a way can be order from Fire Talk Records here.
