In the ever-shifting landscape of modern music, certain sounds seem to exist in a state of suspensionāa liminal space between the familiar and the uncanny. This week, we explore new releases that capture this surreal energy, from the crystalline melodies of PluggnB to the gritty, introspective narratives defining the current underground.
Tooly?, āNo Drank No Cokeā
Maybe itās because the shoulda-been stars of PluggnB were too obsessed with scamming pints from the federal government or fighting a bevy of abuse allegations to ever be public-facing figures, but none of the internetās crystalline melody makers ever producing a global summer smash feels like proof we all died in 2020 and this life is just a forgotten simulation. Though as we hurdle into the endgame, thereās still time for Tooly to catch one.
If Kane Parsons is a real one heāll find a way to shoehorn āNo Drank No Cokeā into Backrooms, making it the hit weāve been waiting for. It could slide right into the Creepypasta-turned-blockbuster not because Toolyās music is inherently creepy, but because all the saccharine melodies in the world canāt distract from the surrealist, nightmare fuel music videos.
Fakemink, āLike A Virginā
Fakemink raps like a mosquito who made a pact with the Devil to become a real boy, using his newly semi-humanoid shrill and youthful eyes to play as a witch house-obsessed Holden Caulfield. In exchange he must wear awful haircuts and postures as the most pretentious twat to come from the UK since Draco Malfoy, but somehow none of that dampens the art.
āLike A Virginā and the rest of his self-produced debut album, Terrified, is his tell-all memoir and self-help guide for all those who think the lust and gluttony that comes with fame is the pinnacle of life. But while his goal is to be a pastor steering us from sin, āLike A Virginā plays as a crunchy celebration of it.
Veeze, āWrong Place, Wrong Timeā
In reality, is there a right place and right time to meet Veeze? At the studio heās nodding off between takes or busy stashing the slimiest, shit talking records in all of Michigan, so that might not be a good place. Plus Lil Yachty is always around and thereās no way I can deal with that. All signs point to just playing the records and listening to the lifestyle, rather than trying to keep up.
Lisha G, āBlock Emā
The South Carolina rapperās new album, Now Or Never, is all about that constant between smacking someone or rolling up while the universe works its magic, but āBlock Emā is all about not taking the high road. At this point, can you blame her? All the cash stacking has her time limited and temper short, plus the block button is too easy to access.
Sauce Walka, āGhetto Gospel 4ā
āThis what it feel like fighting demonsā are the first words to be said but you already knew that was coming. Creak open the doors of Sauce Walkaās sanctuary and youāll hear organ strokes and funked blues guitars wailing in pain. The eviction notices, stress from keeping the kids of so many fallen friends on the right path, and watching your elders age by the day all find a home to scream through these instruments.
