With the overbearing mass of paid musical promotion that surrounds our poor little lives, it’s quite easy to become lost among the clash between your own original ideas, and those which other force upon you. Think about it: Good, tasteful music certainly exists in more than just a few small corners of the world. Considering you’re reading this page, it’s likely that your hard drive is filled with it. But despite this, the majority of music that succeeds on a more grandiose scale (especially in the states) is, to say it nicely, worthless. The success of artists like Soulja Boy (and his unfortunate little dance) is a slap in the face to those who pour their heart and soul into the music they make, as well as a testament to the fact that the eye of the music industry continues to be money. Why pay a talented musician to tire over an album for months when you can make exponentially greater sums of money off of a talentless artist with a face, and the ability to spit out a track every other day?
Greed keeps the good music away. Or rather, greed has the money to put the crap in the eyes of the masses, while the more worthwhile music is left buried, and waiting to be discovered by the lowly few of us who truly care about the noise which our ears are subjected to.
So is there any hope at all? A few months ago, I did a post on the breathtaking soundscapes crafted by the Swedish group, The Deer Tracks. In that post, however, I failed to mention that it was that band’s record label, Despotz, that initially clued me in to their nearly unbelievable work. Needless to say, having been hit with another email from Despotz, I was more than eager to find out what this update had inside; Long story short, I can finally sleep soundly, knowing that there are indeed ethics left within a few shards of our shattering audio world. The email was about Twiggy Frostbite.
The band might sound a bit familiar: It “ironically” features the same vocalist as does The Deer Tracks, however, that’s not to say that the sound is pushing a perfect parallel. Where her other works feature largely an electronic arrangement, Twiggy Frostbite captures its sound from more analog than electronic sounds. But the real beauty of the work stems from its thoroughly sentimental sound. The melancholy soundscapes created by the haunting vocals and reverbed strings couldn’t be farther from the “one song fits all occasions” structure that so many labels are forcing upon us. Rather, the sounds make for the fabrication of new doors to open, and new buttons to push, all within the confines of our own minds. As such, it seems an almost perfect anthem for the new year.
In all sincerity, I advise that you keep your eyes closed before venturing into such a curious new world.