4 min read

THERE'S NO OTHER WAY

Issue - 005
THERE'S NO OTHER WAY
Unsplash | Josiah Gardner

The hardest part of this week’s playlist was dropping Venom Prison’s “Uterine Industrialization” from the track list because it didn’t quite fit and you all know I love a good metal song. I guess I’m cheating a little by including the link in the intro here. But that’s okay—it’s the weekend and this is my zine.


Motion City Soundtrack - Everything is Alright
Paul McCartney - Fuh You
Maxo Kream - Change
Aerial Ruin - Entropy
Rey Pila - How Do You Know?
JAY-Z - Dirt Off Your Shoulder
Kenichiro Nishihara - Every Breath You Take
Logic - Soul Food II
Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek
Tom DeLonge - Golden Showers in the Golden State

Apple | Spotify


If you’re a fan of early aughts pop-punk, chances are you remember exactly where you were the moment you heard Justin Pierre wail, “Tell me that you’re alright / Yeah everything is alright” (for the record, I was in the middle of a LiveJournal post). By 2006, the “serious” sad guy aesthetic firmly gripped 3rd wave emo but Motion City Soundtrack seemed to be operating with a different signal. Their songs often focused on familiar ground of romance and heartbreak but there was a joy and buoyancy to their writing—yes, we’re all miserable, and life’s a mess, but let’s fire up the moog and sing about robots. “Everything is Alright” is simply effervescent with its tumbling back beat and zig-zagging synth. I’m not sure I can undersell Pierre opening up about his mental health struggles and how that puts this song, and their legacy, in a more more contemplative perspective.

Other than Rick Rubin, I’m not sure there’s anyone who has a better ear for melody than Paul McCartney, who has continued to morph alongside music’s kaleidoscopic evolution for over 50 years. “Fuh You” is yet another comeback single, featuring playful piano, big strings, and Macca’s characteristic heart-on-the-sleeve wit: “I just wanna know how you feel / Want a love that’s so proud and real / You make me wanna go out and steal / I just want it—fuh you.” This is a massive chorus, maybe something fun. or Jack Antonoff might try, but it’s wild to hear someone in their 70s absolutely nail it. 2018’s Egypt Station was McCartney’s eighth number one album as a solo artist. Insane. Paul McCartney is an ageless sorcerer, and possibly invented heavy metal, but we’ll save that discussion for another time.

There’s a hypnotic quality to “Change.” Maxo Kream takes us through a complex series of desperate vignettes, set against a nimble guitar sample and relentlessly fluttering beat. It’s hard to pull off this kind of stream of consciousness writing because it can often come off as a jumbled mess. “Change” is different, crystallizing the feeling of someone simultaneously looking forward and back at their life, standing in awe at the fact that in a blink, everything is different in countless ways.

I like my ballads minimal. There are exceptions (“November Rain,” I’m looking at you) but I think the power of the ballad is really in the ability to take something small, a private moment, and transforming it into something gargantuan. Aerial Ruin’s take on acoustic folk hits that sweet spot. “Entropy” is all whisper-thin finger picking and cavernous smoothness as singer Erik Moggrige meditates on the void between the micro states of infinity. It doesn’t get more personal than that.

I found Rey Pila while doom scrolling through Julian Casablancas’ Twitter feed and I’m glad I feel terrible about it. Jittery and robotic, “How Do You Know?” is the kind of synth pop that delivers on the promise of the 80s. The song is massive, awash with bent cybernetic tones, loopy bass, and airy keyboards. Diego Solórzano sports his best Ric Ocasek by-way-of-David Gahan impression but with gigaton of apathy that could give Casablancas a run for his money. If you’ve played out your copy of Virtue, give this a shot.

It’s hard to remember how ubiquitous Timbaland was in the early aughts. All his beats sounded like they were from the future but featured nods to older, global musical styles. Hip-hop isn’t short on storied producers but Timbaland left a deep mark on a generation of beat markers before the advent of Soundcloud. And then suddenly, he was gone, which is why it’s easy to forget how hard “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” still bangs in 2020. JAY-Z probably has better songs, especially on the excellent 4:44 (which only seems to get better with age), but is there a song where he sounds as effortless and cool? I can’t think of one. And that panning synth line is real space age stuff.

I love unconventional covers, especially 80s covers. I think it’s because 80s songs are so indebted to the time in which they were created, so an 80s cover either requires a drastic reimagining or a true to form by-the-numbers arrangement. Bless Kenichiro Nishihara because this vibrant jazz reimagining of The Police’s best song plays out like a dream, one that’s going to stay with you long after you hit the snooze.

If No Pressure is indeed the final album from Logic, it’s a hell of a swan song. “Soul Food II” is the spiritual sequel to Under Pressure’s similarly titled standout, and it finds Robert Bryson Hall contemplating his career, his accolades, and life. If this sounds narcissistic, that’s probably at play too, but what makes it compelling is his willingness to walk away from it. There’s the impression that as far as he’s come, Hall seems genuinely excited for fatherhood and sees it as the ultimate test in his life. Everything else up until this moment is playing out like ghosts in the rear view, much like the dusty soul samples and boom bap that have supported his rhymes for twenty years.

Did you know that every single sex scene has to be soundtracked by Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek?” This is a law now, no bones about it. I remember first hearing this song at the top of a mix CD my college RA gifted me. As an 18 year old boy in the thick of their Vagrant/Tooth & Nail phase, this was mind expanding. Bon Iver probably isn’t a thing without “Hide and Seek.” T-Pain either. The song quietly blooms with Heap’s pitch shifted a capella climbing towards a technicolor crescendo, everything resonating and vibrating forever and all time. I guess some laws just make sense.

This is a top 10 Tom DeLonge song because it blurs the sacred and the profane, even if it’s a bit taboo in this COVID-19 climate. I had to do it to you.


Originally published July 25, 2020 as part of Hella Vibes.