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Review: 1000gecs by 100gecs

Last year, LA based band 100gecs released their first full project. The duo, composed of Laura Les and Dylan Brady, make some rather interesting music, equally inspired by “Skrillex and Playboi Carti”. The album, 1000gecs, is a whirlwind of bright and peppy noise that refuses to let up throughout its (all too short) 23 minutes. Genres are not just combined, but rather bastardized in both a ridiculous and intriguing manner. Electronic, Pop, Dance, Rap, Rock, Ska, Metal, Noise—all worm their way in at some point. It is bizarre, enigmatic, and way too much fun.

When I went to a Brockhampton show in November of last year, I had never heard of the opener–100gecs. Funnily enough, I was too late to see the band play, but I remember seeing their record on sale. The cover art– a picture of the two artists standing, backs to the camera, against a tree– fascinated me. It was weird and eye-catching. “What kind of music could they make?” I thought naively. I made a mental note to check the band out at some point, and enjoyed the rest of the concert.

The next day, I put the album on and gave it my full attention. I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. 1000gecs almost plays like parody, bouncing from style to style but always presenting a clear vision. However funny I found it, I was nevertheless mesmerized by its commitment to the chaotic, the disordered, and the extreme.  It is quite a bit abrasive (parts of the community refer to 100gecs as “Charli XCX on Adderall” or “Death Grips for weaboos”) but it stays fairly grounded in modern musical norms. That’s what makes 1000gecs so entertaining. While most subversive artist try to defy cliché by outright rejecting it, Laura Les and Dylan Brady take many modern trends and push them to the extreme.

Throughout 1000gecs, there is heavy use of auto tune and pitch control—so much that the voices of Laura and Dylan are almost drowned out in the wash of sugary noise. Distorted 808s pound and lo-fi trap drums tap their way through the under-mixed songs. On occasion, samples ring out alone, like on the fever trip “I Need Help Immediately” which sounds as if a cat walked on a soundboard and accidently uploaded it to the album. Many songs begin in one style and steeply change into something else, like the single “Money Machine”. Beginning as a banging trap rap cut, it breaks down into a droning noise with overpowering bass booming. Another, “800db Cloud” is a sweet love song that ends with metal screaming.

Dylan and Laura’s humor and wit is present undeniable in their work. Songs like “Stupid Horse” and “xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx” demonstrate this well (as does their bio section on Spotify). But 1000gecs isn’t just a good joke. It is a well-crafted and extremely enjoyable meditation on the chaos of modern day. It probably will come as no big surprise that the entirety of the album was recorded separately. Dylan and Laura would send each other bits over time until they had a full song, much like The Postal Service did in the 2000’s. The internet played a major role not only in the spreading of the album, but also in the incubation of it. The drastic and eclectic nature of the internet molded the sound of the record continually. Its chaos is not a defect, but rather a reflection of an ever changing world were styles and trends boom and bust.

“Here today, gone tomorrow” has become the mantra of an-increasingly impatient society. Ideas become tropes, which become clichés, and, after oversaturation, disappear. 100gecs is a true product of that artistic lifespan. Its genre hopping mish-mash can sound haphazard, but it really is meticulously crafted. I have found a lot of entertainment in its thought provoking, bizarre hyperactivity, and perhaps you may as well.

 

I’d rate this album 9gecs out of 10. Thanks for reading.

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Review: U-Void Synthesizer by Machine Girl

U-Void Synthesizer is an album from Brooklyn native Matt Stephenson, aka Machine Girl. His sixth independent album, U-Void was released earlier this year on February 26th, 2020. Its experimental mix of digital, rave, industrial, and noise turned some heads, including mine. Though I had heard of the band before, I had never taken the time to listen to a full project from them, and when the record surfaced in late February, I gave it a look. Immediately after hearing it, I went and listened to the rest of Machine Girl’s catalog. Writer Paul Simpson aptly described the project as “equally apocalyptic and ecstatic”, influenced by punk, industrial, electronic, and dancehall. Even though I am not exactly new to the digital hardcore scene, being a big fan of Death Grips and dabbling in some other entry level electro-noise, Machine Girl was a revelation to me. Stephenson so elegantly takes the ferocity and vigor of artists like Zach Hill and Andy Morin, but also, an attention to detail that is almost mind-boggling.

The Bad: On occasion, U-Void can sound derivative. This is perhaps unavoidable in the oversaturated digital noisecore spring of Death Grips clones, but to call Machine Girl a copycat would still be unfair. Songs like ‘The Fortress (The Blood Inside)’ and ‘Scroll of Sorrow’ could have been lifted from 2016’s Bottomless Pit. The vocals are a little one dimensional, as Stephenson spends the entire 32 minutes of the album screaming his head off and not doing much else. Lyrically, there are a few moments that smack of melodrama rather than emotional honesty, like “My ugliness is not my fault, I know God just made me wrong” on ‘Scroll of Sorrow’. On a first listen, it is also too easy to get lost in the sea of sound that Machine Girl presents, cheapening the experience by clouding the real driving factors of a given song.

The Good: Machine Girl enjoys making you squirm. One example of this is ‘Splatter’, an aggressive and uncomfortable song that really takes a lot of attention to grasp.While this may be a turn off for many listeners, I actually enjoy it. The more maximalist approach to production is vivid, always throwing something new at you and relishing its bombastic violence. It doesn’t just hold your attention—it grabs it by the throat and doesn’t let go. Oppressive drums, melodies distorted to the point of nonsense, cryptic and visceral lyricism, waves of noise that devolve and evolve around themselves; everywhere, there is aggression, pure and unbridled. Stephenson captures the worst kind of emotions through blood and sweat. Songs like ‘Devil Speak’ and the closer, ‘Batsu Forever’ make my skin crawl and my head bang. There are political mumblings throughout, but they never sound preachy. Rather, they sound like genuine expressions of dissatisfaction and pain, in a fashion not unlike punk rock and its common messages. “Give me the womb, Give me the cure, Give me death” shouts Stephenson on ‘Blood Magic’. There are moments of great humor that contrast surprisingly well in the chaos around them, like the off-beat vocal snippets at the end of most songs (‘The Fortress’—“I don’t give a s***, send the f****** police!” and ‘Kill All Borders’—“I spy with my little eye”) or the random barks and woofs of dogs interspersed at points.

Conclusion: U-void Synthesizer consistently terrified and energized me. It’s this kind of aura that more music should try to find. This album didn’t just hold my attention—it grabbed me by the throat and didn’t let me breathe throughout its 11 tracks. But at the end, all I want is more. Stephenson’s creativity and brutal honesty are on full display, and it is wonderful. Every bit of the complicated and gritty instrumentals sounds poignant and purposeful. The onslaught almost seems to reflect the negative aspects of life itself, always trying to push and shove the listener with a washy of noises that are rough, and never seem to get better. Stephenson’s nihilistic view of existence is presented with courage and artistry, and that is commendable. The maximalism is like a reflection of the only way such a project could exist—the insanity and opportunity of the internet. Stephenson admits, his success is nearly all due to the chaotic nature of the internet, as sites like 4chan and Rate Your Music really forwarded his career by providing a platform and spreading his creations. Ordered in its chaos, beautiful in all its repulsive glory, Machine Girl triumphs with its newest work. While not a perfect project, U-Void Synthesizer fights tooth and claw for every note and beat, and is one of my favorite albums of the year so far.

I give this album 8 friendly dogs out of 10. Thanks for reading.

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