Infinite Playlist #7

1. Astra King – “First Love” (2023)

Depending on how you look at it, the recent news of P.C. Music being discontinued at the end of the year is a mixed bag. There is a part of me that is infinitely sad that one of the defining institutions of hyperpop will disappear. However, one has to be amazed that they managed to last a whole decade and even managed to produce some of the most interesting names in contemporary music. Any belief that founder A.G. Cook will disappear into obscurity is something to laugh at as he’s only worked with bigger and better talent. Still, it makes sense why Cook would say farewell. As much as the label continues to put out music, it can be argued that their greatest years are behind them. They aren’t in a slump, but without someone like Sophie around, it’s just not the same.

Among the final records to be released is Astra King’s debut E.P. called “First Love.” At a modest four tracks, it’s not necessarily the biggest going away present imaginable, but I’d argue she’s a big reason that I’ll miss P.C. Music. Having covered Cook's solo albums, her gentle voice mixed with glitched-out pop immediately became recognizable for its charming and nostalgic touches. Among her defining achievements was a slowed-down cover of Blink-182’s “All the Small Things” that turns the pop-punk standard into a dreamy, romantic exploration of Millennial bliss. I haven’t listened to everything that King has done, but it’s the type of song that makes me want to see more from her.

Will there be more in the months ahead? I can only hope so because there is something beautiful about her sound. These four tracks feel reminiscent of bedroom pop love songs if given a chaotic reworking. I don’t think it works against her attributes at any point and actually elevates the sound into something unique. You’re immediately transported to 2013, thinking about life from a more innocent time. Most importantly, they’re very catchy. She’s one of the many odd names that the label boosted over the years and I really wish her luck going forward. It’s odd that there’s so little out there from her, but one can only imagine she’s saving the best for a full album somewhere down the line. 

2. Various Artists – “Barbie The Album” (2023)

Nobody’s owned this summer quite like Mattel. Along with a billion-dollar-grossing film, Barbie (2023) has produced a mass-marketing phenomenon that I think will last well into The Fall. Pink is here to stay, and I can only imagine that many will be discussing its themes for quite some time. It’s a rejuvenating summer movie that happens to have some brains. The bigger surprise is that its soundtrack is also a notch above the average release these days as it encapsulates every music trend of this exact moment and creates an album that is full of hits. Not only that, but I personally feel like every last one of them does well to capture the Barbie ethos by managing to be hook-driven, self-consciously commercial, and certain shades of artificial. While some of them are better than others, this is one of the best made-for-film soundtracks that’s not a musical in well over a decade.

I’m personally surprised with how much I’ve returned to most tracks on “Barbie The Album.” Whereas I’m used to nodding along and thinking that one or two songs sound amazing, here I am left with an embarrassment of riches. It’s safe to say that I return to tracks by Charli XCX and Pink Pantheress the most and Gayle the least. Dua Lipa may just be doing some variation of “Future Nostalgia,” but it’s so good as a song to dance the night away to. Billie Eilish even broken her silence with a heartbreaking, existential song that turns the plight of the customer-product relationship into a beautiful study of aging and identity. I would even go so far as to argue that Ice Spice/Nicki Minaj/Aqua collaboration is cheesy in a good way.

What’s even better is that the Mark Ronson-produced album is one of those pop albums that has an interesting texture the more that you think about it. Even tracks as straightforward as Lizzo’s “Pink” in the film find the breakdown of an artificial existence with some perfectly timed winks. Ryan Gosling gets in on the fun, managing to turn “I’m Just Ken” into an Oscar-ready track that is so ridiculous because of how earnest it is on the surface. There is pain underneath Barbie’s plastic lifestyle, and these songs allude to something unsettling underneath. It’s by no means a scary record or one that can be called existential, but it’s still a way more involved party record than some would imagine. I just love what it’s going for. They may not all be classics, but there will be a time in 10 years where I revisit this album and remember that Dominic Fike was a thing. It's dated, but I can only imagine it will be in a joyful way.

3. Thelonious Monk – “Monk’s Dream” (1963)

A few months ago, I mentioned that I had been getting into jazz music, specifically from the 1950s and 60s. Among the biggest names on the list was Thelonious Monk, whose work on the piano is some of the most dazzling work I’ve listened to. It’s not as guitar-driven as other artists, instead finding him using the piano keys like a percussive driving force. You feel the force every time he hits a note, creating a sound akin to a leading guitar that everyone must follow. By the point of “Monk’s Dream,” he is doing some of his best work by mixing rich harmonies with creative fingering that ranges in tempo and finds the listener going in unexpected directions.

Sometimes it feels closer to conventional, slower jazz that is horn-driven. Other times it recalls big band and even interprets standards like “Just a Gigolo” and finds Monk making it his own. This record is ultimately an upbeat and positive one that is constantly keeping the mood light. While I tend to favor records that feel edgier and challenging, such as Charles Mingus, there’s something about Monk that never goes out of style. He feels meditative even as he’s improvising some ridiculous riffs. The way he shifts speed is also astounding, managing to make it all sound so effortless as we’re taken deeper into a master’s personal curiosity.

Like most jazz records, one of the joys is noticing the differences between different takes. While it opens with “Take 8” and ends with “Take 3,” the titular song’s central theme is given versatile shifts that make each one a worthwhile listen. I don’t know that it necessarily makes for the most fluid record, but it’s been one of my favorite touches of most albums I’ve listened to. Even then, I would love to find other prominent artists who dominated in non-horn instruments quite as masterfully as Monk or Mingus. To me, they are crucial to making the sound a bit more fun and stranger. It’s what you need to keep the action moving. Even if all Monk records aren’t made equal, I still love randomly putting one on because even at their most tepid, like “Monk Solo,” there’s something innovative there. You just have to have patience and an open ear.

4. Blur – “Think Tank” (2003)

I was first getting into rock music closer to when “Think Tank” was first coming out. Even then, the reputation it carried was enough to keep me from pressing play for two decades. It’s an odd sensation given that I find Damon Albarn to be one of the great music masterminds of the late 20th century and even the short 21st century. It’s almost unheard of for someone my age to not at least like one Gorillaz song. Even if I consider “Parklife” one of the greatest records of the 90s, I had to ask myself… why was I so hesitant to listen to “Think Tank”? The reviews of the time were damaging, making me believe that this was the record of madmen, some boring hacks who had no sense of direction. I can’t imagine I would’ve been that critical at the time, but in a time where you had to buy the album, it wasn’t an easy sell.

Which is why pressing play on this record was a fever trip. Sure, the complaints about Graham Coxon’s absence are valid and I can see what they mean. I can even agree that this is closer to a Gorillaz album than a Britpop one. However, there is something so wonderful about entering it and immediately being greeted with the dance-ready “Me, White Noise.” It’s designed with such a hypnotic beat that you can’t help but get lost in it. Before you realize that this is the culmination of their previous work, even going into psychedelic directions explored previously on “13,” you have been taken in by something so innovative. This was a protest record with urgency. However, it’s also a pop record that never lets you forget what a good time is. I’m not sure that “Crazy Beat” works for me as well as it did when I was in middle school, but it still makes me smile.

Yes, I partially listened to this in the wake of “Ballad of Darren,” which is interesting in contrast. As only the third Blur album since 2000, it finds them maturing into something less provocative. I’m not as immediately sold, but one thing is clear. They’ve always been great at writing lyrics. While “Think Tank” explores a diverse soundscape that manages to at times veer into kookiness, there is something underrated about the other half of this album. There’s some heart-wrenching ballads here that rank among their very best work. Albarn’s voice carries the pain so well and it shines even on the 2023 album. Even if the band has changed greatly over time – both as individuals and because Gorillaz has taken most of Albarn’s impulsivity – it’s still fun to look back on this time and realize that protest music used to be fun. It also used to be personal in such a way that it’s vulnerable and sometimes indecipherable for years to come. Still, I’m glad to have finally heard this underrated gem.

5. Mitski – “Laurel Hell” (2022)

In light of her upcoming record “The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We,” I have been hearing discourse around Mitski’s back catalog. There was one opinion that made me confused, as I remember being disinterested upon initial listening. “Laurel Hell” was an album that left me cold, not fully understanding what her appeal was. In the interim, Mitski has become one of those artists that seem to be referenced randomly in the wild. I’ve seen people cover songs and get complimented for wearing her shirts. While I recognize “Be the Cowboy” as a masterpiece, there was something drawing me more to wanting to revisit “Laurel Hell.” Maybe it was because I wanted to assess how it would stack up, maybe even hype myself for what was to come. What I didn’t expect was to unabashedly love it.

As the past few years have played out, I’ve found myself appreciating records the more that I just give myself to their artistry. Even if Mitski took more of a dream pop detour from her other records, there’s still something brilliant about what she’s doing. She’s deconstructing what it means to be famous, using clever lyrics to discuss universal emotions while questioning her own career. It’s front-to-back infectious and I love that she never outstays her welcome. Every song invests the listener and creates a unique approach to bedroom pop that is introspective and also a bit scathing. This may be one of her more cynical albums, but I still think her identity struggle is handled very well and creates something profound in the process.

If I had to guess, it’s one of those records that took time for me to fully appreciate. I had to learn to meet it on its terms. In the process, I found that it’s become one of my favorites. I want to relisten to it constantly and just get in the groove. Her new album cannot come soon enough. The past few years have been kind to Mitski and I can only imagine that her new spaghetti western inspired work will provide even more compelling listens. For now, I dig myself further into the charm of this record and realize what makes it brilliant. It’s fun, tragic, but most of all meditative. Sometimes that’s just how life winds up being. We just have to roll with the punches.