OxenFree’s latest single, “Machine”, demonstrates the Brooklyn outfit’s ability to create music that deftly walks the line between tuneful and angry, channeling primitive angst but doing so with musical sophistication. Culled from the group’s Another Land EP, due out 13 October, the song’s dance between the primal and the evolved isn’t entirely accidental, as member Jeff Doyle points out.
Latest Blog Posts
Jordan Blum: I’d be happy about this almost by default just because it marks the return of Gorillaz. There’s a nostalgic sense of joy that comes with seeing these mascots back in action. Luckily, the video and music is actually really solid. In fact, the opening gives the band more personality than I’ve ever seen before, and the colorful and crude haunted house vibe is a perfect continuation of their beloved vibe. As for the track itself, I didn’t expect the reggae forefront, but it fits well with the eerie backing track. After all, Gorillaz has always been about merging styles and never really sticking to any set sound, so this works. Of course, when Albarn adds his unmistakable essence, it’s classic Gorillaz. If the whole new record combines newness with trademarks this well, it’ll be great. [9/10]
PopMatters (est. 1999) is a respected source for smart long-form reading on a wide range of topics in culture. PopMatters serves as a bridge between academia and popular culture. Thus, our articles are written in an engaging style that is both entertaining and erudite, yet free of stiff and cloistered academic language, and of course, far removed from the novice, the hype and the naiveté that crowds online media.
PopMatters articles appeal to cultural omnivores, historians, pop culture enthusiasts and intellectuals and geeks of many stripes. Our essayists approach their subjects with a strong respect for and knowledge of history—and with an eye toward where they think we may be heading next.
Feature essays are a minimum of 1,200 words, and there is no maximum limit, so long as the essay warrants the length. You may pitch a single essay, or a series of articles. We’d love to hear your ideas.
In the final reckoning, people are never that creative. That’s true even when they think they’re changing history. The explorer who goes to the ends of the earth is usually after fame, money, or both. The investor will ignore every warning sign about a too-good-to-be-true opportunity until it’s too late and he’s lost everything. The genius inventor announcing that he’s creating an epochal advancement in technology will turn out to have some fairly mundane reasons for doing so.
The Italian anthology Love in the City was conceived by Cesare Zavattini as a “journal” to investigate taboo aspects of its title: prostitution, suicide, marriage agencies, poor single mothers, and girl-watching that amounts to harassment. As a neo-realist, Zavattini preferred the idea of non-actors playing themselves in more or less documentary enactments of their lives, and the resulting film exists in a nether region between reality and fiction. Although the film wasn’t successful enough to warrant further installments, it’s an intriguing capsule that demonstrates the styles and interests of its young directors.
For example, Michelangelo Antonioni’s segment is so Antonioni, it slaps you upside the head. He interviews people who attempted suicide, gathering them in an artificial manner against a white backdrop and sometimes playing “themselves” in various environments. On display is Antonioni’s visual instinct for staging people, primarily women, against arid and decaying urban settings in a manner where one reinforces the other. The people seem expressions of and products of their landscape, while the landscape projects their alienation writ large.