Satanic Puppeteer Orchestra live at The Mayan in downtown Los Angeles for Exotikon 3 (Pic: Liz O.)
Our glasses weren’t 3D. We were watching a live performance inside downtown L.A.’s Mayan Theatre and, like the robot on stage told the crowd on Sunday afternoon, that’s already 3D. These were decoder glasses. Some in the audience had blue lenses. Others, like me, had red ones. The color of the lenses determined what you would see on the screen behind Satanic Puppeteer Orchestra, the human-and-robot duo from San Diego who were playing as part of Exotikon.
Jonathan Bates is Big Black Delta (credit: Josh Giroux)
“Honestly, nowadays, making an album is not a healthy thing,” says Jonathan Bates. “Spending a year and a half making a collection of music and then putting it out and people literally giving it 30 minutes is not good for the soul.”
Bates, though, released his fifth album as Big Black Delta, Adonai, last February. It’s a fantastic mix of synthpop and rock. Since the album landed in my inbox earlier this year, I’ve spent much more than a half-hour listening to it.
Lost Records: Bloom and Rage is a new video game from French developer Don’t Nod. Since I’m not much of a gamer, I can’t tell you anything about that, aside from that it’s narrative-driven and about grown women in 2022 reconnecting with a secret from their 1990s teenage past. What I can tell you about, though, is the soundtrack, which, like the game was released in two parts, the second of which dropped this week. And, really, the reason I’m telling you about the soundtrack is because 3/4 of Chromatics— Ruth Radelet, Nat Walker and Adam Miller— reunited to contribute five songs to the Lost Records soundtrack album.
Jeff Jacquin and Joey Cevetello of Grey Factor (Photo courtesy of the band)
When first wave L.A. synth band Grey Factor originally played around town, it was the junction of the 1970s and 1980s, an era when synths were more cumbersome and complicated than they are today and local audiences weren’t totally sold on electronic music.
Back then, Jeff Jacquin and Joey Cevetello, the core of the group, and their bandmates lugged analog gear into punk clubs. Sometimes, they brought their own soundboard as well. Cevetello carried pieces of paper with charts showing how all the knobs on the synthesizers should be arranged. Their stands were repurposed shelving units.
“You could pop on the internet right this second and find people road-raging,” says Mark Lane. “It’s so ubiquitous, such a part of the culture.”
That unabashed anger so often on display online and in the streets is what Lane is referencing in “Yelling at Cars,” the title track from his latest EP, released last November. “I saw you standing in the street/Yelling at cars,” he sings over a beat that’s a little electro, a little EBM, a clubby sound that still conveys the shock and dismay of his observations.
“It’s really hostile now,” he says. “The record touches on this psychosis of imagined road ownership. These people really believe, the road is mine. You see it over and over.”
Is there an album title better suited for 2025 than City of Clowns, the latest from Marie Davidson? Just this week, Meta dropped some Instagram users into a new level of doomscroll hell, Jeff Bezos decided that WaPo’s opinion page would push “personal liberties and free markets,” and I can’t even keep up with the New Adventures of Trump and Musk. These dudes are a bunch of fucking clowns with far too much power over our daily lives.
But, enough about politics, let’s get the music, right? Sorry, that’s not going to happen with City of Clowns. Influenced by Shoshana Zuboff’s book, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, the not-so-subtle theme throughout Marie Davidson’s new album is the control that Big Tech wields over us. Take “Demolition” as an example, when Davidson whispers, “I want your data” in a flirtatious voice, like the platform that’s going to seduce you into handing over the details of your life that you don’t even share with your closest confidantes.
Lemuria, the sophomore album from Optometry, has the best closer I’ve heard in a long time, so we’re going to start this review at the end. “Never Coming Back” is in the vein of what’s considered post-punk right now. It has a running-for-your-life tempo (over 160 bpm for those of you who keep track of these things), a gloomy synth and a “Ceremony” sad guitar. It’s dark— really, it sounds like the cliff-hanger ending of a TV show— but also danceable and it’s become my favorite track on the album, which is out today on Palette Recordings.
Future Islands live at The Shrine on September 18, 2024 (pic: Liz O.)
I saw the first Future Islands fan rush the stage at the end of “Corner of My Eye,” which closed out the band’s main set at The Shrine on Wednesday night. The way I remember it, which may or may not be 100% accurate, Samuel T. Herring was singing “thank you, thank you.” Someone in a plaid shirt ran up from audience’s right hand side and embraced the singer. Security appeared. Herring said something along the lines of, it’s okay. Later on, when Future Islands and openers Oh, Rose were in the midst of a “Vireo’s Eye” dance party during the encore, I saw two more people hop on to the stage, where they were promptly chased off by security. It was a déjà vu-inducing scene for me, and maybe for anyone else in the crowd who has been to a Morrissey show.
It was a fitting end to the night because, nearly two hours earlier, when Future Islands kicked off the show with “King of Sweden,” I thought, this vibe is so Morrissey. Herring has a different style of performance than Moz— there’s a good amount of HIIT-level cardio happening during a Future Islands show— but he also taps into a similar level of intensity that is infectious. The teenage girls in front of me bopped up and down excitedly. The totally ordinary looking dudes a few rows in front morphed into dancing machines. I wondered if anyone would rush the stage. It took a while, but they did.
Album cover for Geneva Jacuzzi’s new album, Triple Fire
I’ve been hooked on Triple Fire, the latest album from Geneva Jacuzzi, since a promo turned up in my email a while back. As the August 23 release date approached, I listened to the album more often, trying to dig deeper into the stories within songs like “Laps of Luxury,” “Art Is Dangerous” and “Scene Ballerina” that are so vivid, yet so open to interpretation. The music, the lyrics, it all felt like it was already a part of Los Angeles.
Jacuzzi has been making music in L.A. since the ‘00s and first came to underground attention with the band Bubonic Plague, who were amazing live, btw. Triple Fire is her third solo album since 2010 and her first full-length for Dais Records.
It was hot and the record store was small and bright. Jazz filled the room as I flipped through bins, side-eyeing price tags on ‘80s records. That’s what they want for the Go-Gos? I thought. That’s the kind of record you get from your relatives who went digital ages ago. In fact, at least one of my Go-Gos records came to me in exactly that way. I don’t even want to see the Fleetwood Mac prices here.
I headed over to the dance bin, just in case there was something that looked interesting. And there was. It was a copy of “Vamos a la Playa” with a $4.99 price tag on it. That’s weird, I thought. I can’t tell you how long “Vamos a la Playa” has been in the L.A. ether, but it’s one of the Italo disco jams that everyone seems to know. If you play it a club— and I think most of us DJs have done so many, many times— you can hear the crowd singing out on the floor. At least, they sing along with the chorus, “Vamos a la playa, oh-oh-oh-oh.” They usually don’t get all into the verse about radioactive winds blowing through your hair. It’s a strange song by today’s standards, but deceptively cheerful ditties about nuclear annihilation were totally a thing in the 1980s. Don’t believe me? This is probably the only time in my life that I will ever recommend listening to “99 Luftballoons” in English.
