7 Songs: Apr 2025
WASH2—Jon Bellion
It’s a rare and refreshing thing these days to hear an artist capable of spanning both maximalist pop production and the raw immediacy of stripped-down performance. On WASH2, Jon Bellion dials it all the way back—just voice and piano—and the result is quietly devastating. WASH adds that pop instrumentation and production, but the songwriting and voice on this alternate take are powerful enough to carry all the weight.
Jon’s upcoming album drops in June, and if recent releases and the trailer are any indication, it’s going to be something special. It’s good to see him back and flexing range in a way that still feels grounded.
Deal—Organ Tapes, 500
I’ve been focusing on vocal production recently in the studio, so I’m listening to vocals with a lot more attention than usual. I’m getting a lot out of a careful ear on tracks where more emphasis is on vibe than vocal performance. Organ Tapes embraces subdued delivery in this way, but I’m emulating a good amount of production technique when it comes to using space in captivating ways: doubling and octaves, different delay and reverb plays on wet vocal chains, panning and tremolo, unique automation throws, etc. There are a lot of fun sounds in here and it’s a nice, relaxed track to skate slowly and carve to when the sun’s out.
SCREAM—MIKE DEAN
I’ve come to admire Mike Dean as something like the anti-Rick Rubin. Like Rubin, he’s an industry veteran in his sixties who has dutifully earned his place on hip-hop’s Mount Rushmore of behind-the-scenes architects many times over. But instead of prominently projecting sagely aura, Dean maintains a low-profile and a blunt on him at all times. Where Rubin has sported a bald crown with hair on the sides and a Zeus beard, Dean has at times opted for the exact opposite haircut. Rick claims not to play any instruments (at least adeptly), whereas Dean has at least once casually blurted out that he’s classically trained in a way that seems almost accidental and somewhat antithetical to his image and comportment.
Dean plays multiple instruments but is best known for his analog synth work, often being called the Synth God. Lately, he’s taken to livestreaming his studio improv sessions from a room packed with synths, occasionally shaping those jams into full LPs. His annual 420 releases collect these moments: expansive, moody, often surprisingly listenable between things. SCREAM is one of the cuts that leans harder into energy. The synths are melodic, dynamic, and gritty in relief against the chill yet incisive drums. Always nice when the Synth God decides to raise his voice a little.
Stylo—Gorillaz feat. Mos Def and Bobby Womack
Another track with a driving rhythm, synth attack, and an iconic wail. There’s something I really admire about how the bones of Damon Albarn’s process still show through in much of his finished work. You can feel the core loop, the drum machine, the simple idea at its heart, and yet the final product emerges as something entirely fresh, built through sonic iteration and Albarn’s trademark genre syncretism. Stylo is a great example of that sensibility. The hypnotic refrain from Mos Def and the searing, soulful chorus from Bobby Womack take what could have been a mechanical groove and give it emotional life.
There’s an Apple Music interview from a couple years back that captures this simple songwriting approach. Albarn walks Zane Lowe through a studio and casually demos how Clint Eastwood came to be. He reveals that Gorillaz’s breakout single from over two decades ago was basically pulled straight off of the first preset on a Suzuki Omnichord. It doesn’t make the song any worse, as the decisive transformations between that loop and the final track are a masterful way to drive home the idea that simplicity can become greatness. It’s a good reminder that great songs don’t need to be complex—they just need a spark, and the willingness to follow it.
Alba del orate—The Mars Volta
The Mars Volta’s new record is full of surprises. It moves through jazz, pop, and Latin metal with a fluidity that’s hard to pin down. Alba del orate stands out. The gradual transition into double-timey polyrhythmic jazz percussion and the sudden attack of wobbling saw waves are exciting.
This album feels like a continuous current, flowing from one track to the next with a mix of uncanny cohesion and unexpected turns. There’s something thrilling about how much ground it covers while still feeling so focused. I don’t know what I expected from a new Mars Volta release in 2025, but I’m glad to have heard something that makes it feel like album craft is not a lost art.
Black Dunes (Woman in the Dunes Mix)—This Will Destroy You, Holy Other
Tunnel Blanket is an instrumental record that’s among my favorites, having stood the test of time for nearly 15 years now. Coming in at nearly an hour, it’s a long-form meditative journey through psychedelic transcendence that’s as comforting in some pockets as it is challenging in others. Holy Other’s take on the penultimate track condenses its length considerably and breathes new life and rhythm into it (especially with the crescendo beneath staccato synth leads at the end) while preserving and enhancing the original track’s atmosphere using signature vocal sampling technique.
Mouse Policy—Cloud Nothings
Mouse Policy barrels forward with Cloud Nothings channelling some of the urgency and youthful garage rock energy that made me fall in love with Attack on Memory back in 2012, but it’s tempered now. It’s more patient and layered with still simple yet more refined songwriting. The chorus soars while the outro glows with a wistful and nostalgic post-rock sparkle.
Final Summer is an apt title for this full-length release from last year. Listening to it makes me feel like I’m back in college for a moment: still figuring everything out, still angry for no good reason, still subtly puppeteered by the idea that guitars could save me.
If you’ve read this far (thanks), you probably like music quite a lot.
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