Fantano Project №3 — FKA Twigs, Krallice, and Radiohead

96. FKA Twigs — LP 1

FKA Twigs’ album LP 1 has some parallels to an album that I’ve already listened to for this list, Bjork’s Vulnicura, with its dark, electronic sound being the conduit for dark songs of heartbreak and anxiety. FKA Twigs is decidedly more hip and less artsy than Bjork, and LP 1 is a project that keeps its scope rather small, unlike Vulnicura. It opens with the quick, but haunting “Preface,” before going into “Lights On,” which pulses with a simultaneously anxious and sexy energy in a minor key. Distortion is found everywhere, but never too much of it; Twigs’s voice always retains an organic, rich tone despite its various electronic alterations and the instrumentation is smooth without being slick, aggressive without being grating. “Two Weeks” continues the anxious love ballad trend; where “Lights On” creeps, “Two Weeks” soars with its romantic melancholy.

“Hours” is another low-key, heavily fragmented experimental/electronic croon, with a more spare instrumental arrangement than previous tracks, allowing for spaces between notes to up the sonic space. The next track, “Pendulum,” is woozy and gorgeous, as the drums come in and out with varying speed and intensity, while Twigs sings more beautiful vocal lines, harmonizing with herself at the highest peaks, creating sublime moments amidst the scattered electronic soundscape. It also has a stronger sense of progression than previous songs, with the spare accompaniment building up to something more substantial, a little more organized than something like “Hours.”

The next song, “Video Girl,” feels a bit like a re-tread of paths that the album has already taken and isn’t as catchy as its predecessors. Luckily, “Numbers” picks things back up with a faster tempo and a sense of urgency to its glitchy synth and vocal barrage that carries substantial emotional weight as Twigs asks, “Was I just a number to you?” The song “Closer” features these thick, legato vocals that sound like they could fit right into an Enya track, that is, until they start to be chopped and altered into new sounds and forms. “Give Up” brings more hypnotic synth and drum patterns under Twigs, who sings more dissonant melodies this time, creating wonderful moments of tension and release. The closing track, “Kicks,” is another slow song that builds over it’s five minutes and change. Twigs’s voice continues to be almost celestial above the rumblings of the electronic instrumentation, but there is always, as with the rest of the album, a sense of restraint in her singing that reinforces the anxious, almost introverted tone of the love songs.

The project as a whole is gorgeous and finds (a maybe too) consistent sound that it minutely pushes and pulls in various directions. It’s a very good record, but one that, six years later, maybe seems a little more quotidian than it did upon release, which perhaps speaks to both its representation of musical trends of the last decade and its influence on female synth anti-pop that has come since.

8/10

Favorite Tracks: Lights On, Pendulum, Numbers, Two Weeks

Least Favorite Track: Video Girl

95. Krallice — Years Past Matter

With Krallice, we enter into relatively unknown genres for me. The black progressive metal band from New York marks the first time that I’ve ever intentionally listened to any black metal, which can definitely be an intimidating genre to enter into. I’m familiar and fond of some small selections of metal that I’ve listened to, but I rarely if ever venture towards something as extreme as black metal. Luckily for me, Krallice actually forms a relatively accessible entry point into the genre, with an emphasis on the harmonic construction and instrumentation of their compositions. In other words, there is very little of the low-pitched screaming that is characteristic of the genre and much more of guitars and drums shredding away, which I can get behind. All of the tracks on the album are presented with capital i’s, which I will distinguish by putting the number of i’s in parenthesis next to each title.

The first song, IIIIIII (7), is an eight minute thrasher that goes straight into things with multiple guitars picking fast repetitive notes in their melodies and double bass drums and snares thudding in double time. While the progressive nature of Krallice’s music prevents any kind of stability in the melody of the song, the constant motion of the instrumentation allows the music to avoid the stiffness that a lot of progressive rock can suffer from. Instead, you’re just whisked away on a never-ending rollercoaster that never stops rolling, evolving, hurtling towards its eventual conclusion. At 11 minutes, the next track, IIIIIIII (8), proves just as uncompromising as the first, but it’s thanks to an excellent guitar breakdown section that arrives four minutes in that gives this song life and prevents it from being too repetitive and mind-numbing. A second breakdown section happens at seven minutes in that has the guitars go into an upper register and play a more articulated melody that I would actually describe as catchy, despite everything about this style of music being opposed to catchiness.

The third track, IIIIIIIII (9), is another 12 minute blistering whirlwind of fury. There are more guitar riffs in the middle of this track that get me nodding my head back and forth; black metal is surprising me in its ability to have pointed musical, almost cantabile, moments amidst the atmosphere-driven style. IIIIIIIIII (10) is more of the same; perhaps its my inexperience with the record and/or the genre as a whole, but I have a pretty difficult time distinguishing one track from the next, which, from a progressive rock standpoint, isn’t as detrimental as it might be to other projects. It all just blurs together as one long ride through hell. With no discernible lyrics or chorus to make any of the songs stand out, the music becomes much more an experience bound up in the moment of listening rather than something that you can identify, put into a box of structure, or even really fully comprehend as a static object.

It is smart, then, that Krallice switches things up with IIIIIIIIIII (11), a short, one minute tone piece of droning guitars, cymbals, that moves in slow-motion, like the previous forty minutes of metal put through molasses. It’s a brief moment of reprieve before the band charges into their final, epic song, IIIIIIIIIIII (12). The previous songs of 11 and 12 minutes shrink in comparison to the colossal 17 minute zinger we get at the end. If you didn’t think it possible for Krallice to turn up the intensity even more, think again. IIIIIIIIIII (12) takes everything up a notch, with the last three minutes sounding like a triumphant, glorious finish to match the scope of the rest of the project. As the two guitars begin their epic riffing in these final minutes, I’m totally enraptured by the sound of it all, instead of being exhausted after an hour’s worth of shredding. It’s all really, really dense, like the musical equivalent of some kind of demented, Tarantino-ized Finnegan’s Wake, but there are still identifiable moments of awesome melody, harmony, and progression that make it really surprisingly enjoyable.

7/10

Favorite Tracks: IIIIIIII (8), IIIIIIIII (9), and IIIIIIIIIIII (12)

Least Favorite Track: IIIIIIIIIII (11)

94. Radiohead — A Moon Shaped Pool

I came into A Moon Shaped Pool with pretty good familiarity with it, Radiohead’s most recent LP release, and a pretty good fondness for a select few tracks off of it. Radiohead has maintained its reputation of a “you either love it or hate it” group that has been the darling of the alternative music scene for more than two decades. The record begins with two fantastic cuts, “Burn the Witch” and “Daydreaming,” with the former adding some needed kick to an album (and a group’s overall sound) that tends to wallow in its moodiness. The opener doesn’t lack for atmosphere or moodiness, but the racing strings and percussion that begin and continue throughout provides nice variety to the molasses-paced Thom Yorke croon ballads that Radiohead has become known for.

“Daydreaming” feels much more like a typical Radiohead track, with airy, ambient bells and sounds creating a soft halo around the soft piano that fades in and provides the supple backbone to the song, which clocks in at over six minutes. Here, I’m reminded of how Thom Yorke’s voice is an acquired taste; I love it at this point, but I also recognize it as a barrier of entry to many newcomers (if there are any to Radiohead at this point). The song grows and shrinks the size of its soundscape, like lungs slowly breathing. The strings that come in at the five minute mark are some of the most engaging, yet simple moments of orchestration I’ve heard, which eventually gives way to the slowed and reversed sound, which sounds like some large beast snoring, that finishes the song, after all other instruments have faded. “Decks Dark” is a solid, if not slightly forgettable, Radiohead track: nothing new or adventurous here, but it helps the record feel consistent. The acoustic guitar on “Desert Island Disk” is a wonderful new sound to make its way into the project, with bright, beautiful licks from Jonny Greenwood that add more richness to the sonic flavors and textures that appear on A Moon Shaped Pool. The next track, “Ful Stop,” is one that requires some patience from the listener, as another six minute track unfolds, growing and adding layers deliberately, in a way that isn’t quite as satisfying as other tracks on the record.

The luminous ballad that follows, “Glass Eyes,” is short and to the point. Strings undulate like waves around and behind Thom Yorke’s soft, controlled vocal lines, creating brief, yet distinct moments of melancholic beauty in the midst of a project that can feel a bit monochromatic. “Identikit” follows, with spare drumming giving more forward momentum than previous songs, and Thom Yorke riding some of the band’s catchiest vocal hooks. It stays in a groovy, but unhurried pocket tempo, one that allows Jonny Greenwood to explore a more conventional alt-rock sound on the electric guitar to great effect.

The tracks flow and blend pretty seamlessly together and “The Numbers” comes in and begins without the listener even realizing that a new song has begun. It’s one of my favorite songs on the album, adding instruments at the right moments, giving a more recognizable of progress than a more meandering track like “Ful Stop.” The strings are again standouts, coming in with punchy energy that then smooths out the song’s back end. “Present Tense” then arrives with a different, but equally understated kinetic energy, with the soft arpeggios on the acoustic guitar and the subtle percussion keeping the track in the kind of easy groove found on “Identikit” or “Reckoner,” one of the best songs in the band’s discography, found on their celebrated LP “In Rainbows.”

The song “Tinker Tailor Solider Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief,” is another track that just drifts along at its own pace set by the fuzzy, synthetic drumbeat. The strings are, once again, the stars of the show, here reminiscent of the string sections of The Beatles’ “A Day in the Life.” The album’s closer, “True Love Waits,” is the kind of depressed, muted ballad the band is so famous for, here tinged with a tense pain in Thom Yorke’s vocal performance as he bemoans love’s departure from his life. It’s one of the most beautiful songs the band has ever made, even if some may not be able to get passed Yorke’s voice.

Overall, it’s a beautiful record from start to finish, one of the most focused and consistent projects Radiohead has ever produced. It has a great flow from end to end and presents a distinct, honed sound that we have come to expect from the group that has been changing and refining its artistic vision for so long. I’m actually a little surprised that this album is found so far down this list. It may not be breaking any new ground, but A Moon Shaped Pool is a gem from the modern masters of melancholy.

9/10

Favorite Tracks: Daydreaming, Glass Eyes, Identikit, The Numbers, Present Tense, True Love Waits

Least Favorite Track: Ful Stop