On March 17, Underoath played a sold-out show at Brooklyn Steel in Williamsburg along with bands Stray from the Path, Bad Omens and Spiritbox. It was a great experience for my first metal show with an energetic crowd, tons of moshing and enough cathartic energy to help me finish this semester.
Laurel Hell focuses its gaze on indie music celebrity and constant public scrutiny, as well as loneliness, grief, anticapitalism and self-reflection. From unrequited love to fierce anger to all-consuming loneliness, the songs on this album tackle the full range of human feelings — even allegedly shameful ones.
I became mesmerized by the album cover — a masterpiece right out of Microsoft Paint. The art style made me feel like Sidney Gish got me without even having listened to any other song. From that point on, No Dogs Allowed was in my ears at all times.
CAPRISONGS is a beautiful blend of emotion that showcases the long awaited solace in Twigs’ heart-wrenching journey from abuse and heartbreak to self-realization and recovery, following her through euphoric dance tracks and electronic, melancholic ballads.
Everything from his beginnings — Goblin and Wolf — to CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST had a moment in the sun that night. Every iteration of being a Tyler, The Creator fan was on full display.
The first Betty Davis song I ever heard was “Nasty Gal,” and I was floored. Here was a woman who sang with an authority and individuality deeper than I had ever heard before, who knew all of the influential players within punk and rock music — and who performed with platform boots and an Afro.
P Daddy celebrates its own absurdity, writing party anthems about feeling inadequate. The music often rejects rumination and accepts a strain of Camus-based-philosophy, asserting that one can find joy by embracing the absurdity of life. It seems that the music is telling you to embrace sorrow, but find joy despite it.
On March 10, I experienced the four-hour, sold-out, sixth annual Love Rocks NYC! show in the grandeur of New York City’s Beacon Theatre. Yet my perspective was far different from the rest of the audience. I studied the musicians, yes, but from their backs. As I hunched from my post as drum tech, securely hidden behind the kit and the congas, my eyes darted from the musicians I was working for to the faces of nearly 3,000 radiant music fans.