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Singles: Green Day, Jarrow, Bon Iver & More

Currently in the market for a personal trainer capable of getting me fit enough to dance my arse off to Sheila E. at Meredith.

POWELL FEAT. FRANKIE : Frankie

Opening with a throwback to the primordial stages of electronic music with errant hisses, Powell eventually constructs a deep groove with a minimalist toolset, joined by Frankie (AKA HTRK’s Jonnine Standish) for an understated, smoky construction. There’s no overreach, something like the makings of a post-apocalyptic jam. One created by the robots. Efficient and oppressive.

 

THE GRISWOLDS : Out Of My Head

A turgid, faecal construction, precision–made to pack out mid-tier festival bookings with flaccid lyrical couplets and contrived–as–fuck platitudes, shunted in the oven and left with production more overcooked than a failed 3am garlic bread turn pass-out attempt. This is shit. Absolutely wretched shit, a stunning toast to mediocrity most pure.

 

GREEN DAY : Bang Bang

Pretty much the best case scenario for old pop punks is to not sound totally embarrassing in 2016. Blink-182 didn’t quite get there with their latest (shitting the bed more than a few times on their overlong California). Not only is Bang Bang not embarrassing, it’s actually, not bad? I could listen to this repeatedly and not want to jam a screwdriver in my earholes. Which is why this track is drawing a lot of comparisons to pretty much any era of Green Day that wasn’t entirely fucken shithouse. Could they sustain this for a whole album? Probably? But chances are they could still shit the bed with an acoustic ballad or two.

 

JARROW : $$ Spoilers $$

Jarrow’s strength here lies in his charming lyrical sway, bolstering the simple guitar melodies. There’s enough tonal flourish to entertain, just enough personality through the quirks of arrangement. Without wanting to damn with faint praise, this song is nice. It’s a nice song.

 

SINGLE OF THE WEEK

BON IVER : 10 d E A T h b R E a s T (Extended Version)

Blown out distortion indicates a darker territory for Bon Iver, but somehow, the established Bon Iver tonal signposts mitigate that darkness, or even parlay it into a conventional beauty. Rather than feather the logical extremes of what we’ve come to expect, Justin Vernon launches into the ether, or the nether, finding a weird comfort. This is growth done right, an evolution so grotesque, it’s magnificent. The flagrant IDM-speak tracklisting of new album 22, A Million could come across as folly, but Vernon has the conceptual scope to pull it off.