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Malibu: Vanities Album Review | Pitchfork
Music

Malibu: Vanities Album Review | Pitchfork

by jummy84 October 9, 2025
written by jummy84

Vanities, the debut full-length by French producer Barbara Braccini, aka Malibu, is equal parts devotion and alienation. Her short, lush ambient compositions layer formless washes of synth with field recordings of city sounds; seamy and ominous, they evoke haunted industrial areas or images of abandoned business districts during Covid. At the same time, the songs on Vanities highlight Braccini’s clarion, wordless vocals—hymnlike passages that attempt to thaw the production’s frosty veneer. The feeling Vanities evokes has, in my mind, more in common with clinical, alienating, but ultimately invigorating films like Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans or Spring Breakers than it does any of Braccini’s contemporaries.

Vanities was made largely in Stockholm but finished in Los Angeles, and it feels unmistakably like a piece of California noir. From the sirens that drift through the thickly atmospheric opener “Nu” to the new-age wash of “The Hills” to the voice that whispers, “It’s our secret, you can’t tell anybody,” like a sample from some ’90s thriller, on closer “Watching People Die,” Vanities revels in the chilly contradictions of the City of Angels—its pervasive warmth and the way its layout forces a sense of atomization, the vague spirituality and the potent sense of moneyed privilege. At times, the album recalls the ambient-leaning back half of Chromatics’ Kill for Love, another serotonin-depleted record that feels like a strung-out drive through the city in the early morning hours.

This palette isn’t wholly dissimilar from Palaces of Pity, Braccini’s 2022 EP. The difference now is that everything feels crisper and more expansive: Braccini’s voice is clear and high in the mix, as opposed to a whisper beneath the shoegazey wash; individual samples, like the crashing waves on “Spicy City” and “What Is It That Breaks,” can be heard clearly amid the noise. Listening to Vanities after Palaces of Pity, it feels like a weight has been lifted; for every song on Vanities like “A World Beyond Lashes,” which feels like it’s collapsing in on itself beneath layers of noise, there’s one like “Lactonic Crush,” whose hard-won lightness and gently swelling synth recalls dream trance at its foggiest.

October 9, 2025 0 comments
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Ø: Sysivalo Album Review | Pitchfork
Music

Ø: Sysivalo Album Review | Pitchfork

by jummy84 September 25, 2025
written by jummy84

In 1994, on an album called Minimal Nation, Detroit’s Robert Hood stripped Motor City funk to its bones. Most of its tracks were made of little more than lithe, swinging drum programming and solitary synth patches that glistened like oil slicks; it’s generally considered the origin point for what came to be known as minimal techno. In February of the same year, more than 4,000 miles away, a taciturn young Finn named Mika Vainio took an even sharper scalpel to the same ideas. His debut album, Metri, couldn’t be more skeletal if it were a laboratory specimen. Where there are drum machines, they merely thump and hiss; his custom-built tone generators glisten like icicles and roar like buzz bombs. If Hood’s album represented minimal techno’s ground zero, Vainio’s was its ground Ø.

Vainio would go on to become best known as one half of Pan Sonic, a duo (with Ilpo Väisänen) that, from the early 1990s until its dissolution in 2009, waged a scorched-earth campaign against electronic music’s staid conventions. But it was Vainio’s Ø alias—after a symbol signifying absence in a number of contexts, from math and geometry to linguistics—that would be his longest-running project, evolving from those brutalist techno origins to encompass a wide array of electronic techniques and soundscapes.

In addition to many solo and collaborative albums under his own name, Vainio released eight albums as Ø until 2017, when he plunged from a cliff in France. He had been at work on a ninth Ø album for three years at the time of his death. Working from notes he left behind, Tommi Grönlund, his friend and founder of the Sähkö label, and Rikke Lundgreen, Vainio’s former partner, compiled the material into Sysivalo, his final album. (According to Lundgreen, Vainio had already decided upon the album concept, title, track order, and even cover art.) The title—a portmanteau meaning something like “charcoal light”—is evocative and fitting. Vainio’s music often felt like an apocalyptic clash between being and nothingness, but on Sysivalo, darkness and light flow together in ways that are unusual for his work, evoking a dynamic mixture of vulnerability, tenderness, and grace.

Vainio’s music could sometimes sound like he had jacked directly into an electrical substation, but his palette here is soft and tufted. Distant thunder takes on a purplish pastel hue, misted with white noise. There are few hard attacks and even fewer moments where the levels bleed red. A bite-sized quality distinguishes these 20 tracks, which run shorter than he typically worked. Vainio’s enduring interest in capturing the vastness of sound is distilled into pieces that feel both atmospheric and tactile, like cupping small clouds of colored smoke in your hands. Yet there’s little doubt that Sysivalo is envisioned as an album—a single, overarching work, rather than a collection of stray pieces. A ruminative mood pervades the hour, and tones and themes frequently repeat. The drawn-out foghorn blast that opens the album with “Etude 1” reappears, whittled to a fine point, in “Etude 5,” and turns up again nine tracks later in “Aine” (“substance”), threading the album with a faint sense of deja vu.

September 25, 2025 0 comments
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Wednesday, Maajins, and More: This Week’s Pitchfork Selects Playlist
Music

Wednesday, Maajins, and More: This Week’s Pitchfork Selects Playlist

by jummy84 September 22, 2025
written by jummy84

The staff of Pitchfork listens to a lot of new music. A lot of it. On any given day our writers, editors, and contributors go through an imposing number of new releases, giving recommendations to each other and discovering new favorites along the way. Each Monday, with our Pitchfork Selects playlist, we’re sharing what our writers are playing obsessively and highlighting some of the Pitchfork staff’s favorite new music. The playlist is a grab-bag of tracks: Its only guiding principle is that these are the songs you’d gladly send to a friend.

This week’s Pitchfork Selects playlist features Maajins, Wednesday, Optic Sink, Adeline Hotel, Peel Dream Magazine, Cusp, and more. Listen below and follow our playlists on Apple Music and Spotify. (Pitchfork earns a commission from purchases made through affiliate links on our site.)

Pitchfork Selects: September 22, 2025

Maajins: “Trolly Boy”
The Best of the Worst: “Misogyny”
Wednesday: “Townies”
Optic Sink: “Don’t Look Down”
Adeline Hotel: “Just Like You”
Hannah Frances / Daniel Rossen: “Life’s Work”
Peel Dream Magazine: “Venus in Nadir”
Cusp: “Oh Man”
Pony: “Superglue”
41 / Kyle Richh / Jenn Carter / TaTa: “Lisp”

September 22, 2025 0 comments
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Kneecap Banned From Canada | Pitchfork
Music

Kneecap Banned From Canada | Pitchfork

by jummy84 September 21, 2025
written by jummy84

Kneecap have been barred from entering Canada, Vince Gasparro, the country’s parliamentary secretary for combating crime, announced in a video on social media today (September 19). Gasparro accused the Irish rap trio of amplifying political violence and displaying antisemitic symbols, alluding to the alleged shows of support for Hezbollah and Hamas for which bandmember Mo Chara is awaiting trial in the United Kingdom. (Kneecap have said they do not support either organization.) The band responded in a statement that it would pursue legal action against Gasparro for his “wholly untrue and deeply malicious” comments and reaffirmed its support for the Palestinian cause.

The group’s statement continued, “We will be relentless in defending ourselves against baseless accusations to silence our opposition to a genocide being committed by Israel. When we beat you in court, which we will, we will donate every cent to assist some of the thousands of child amputees in Gaza.”

In a separate message to fans, the band accused several pro-Israel lobby groups of using misinformation to influence the Canadian government, claiming there was no legal basis to stop them entering the country. “We have played in Canada many times with zero issues and a message of solidarity and love,” Kneecap said.

Kneecap had been due to play two nights apiece in Toronto and Vancouver. Today’s development follows the cancellation of their U.S. tour, which they attributed to Chara’s next court date on September 25. Before that, the trio’s show at a festival in Budapest was canceled after Hungary’s far-right government became the first to bar their entry. The group announced this month that it would livestream a concert for North American fans on October 10.

Kneecap Live Review: Beer, Baggies, and a Little Revolution

September 21, 2025 0 comments
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fakemink Deserves the Hype | Pitchfork
Music

fakemink Deserves the Hype | Pitchfork

by jummy84 September 3, 2025
written by jummy84

The hype is in overdrive, so much so that people are declaring he’s lost his soul and calling him an industry plant. He’s at the forefront of the British scene—alongside upstarts like Fimiguerrero, Jim Legxacy, YT, and Len—but also quickly surpassing it, primed for global crossover. How did we get here, and is this 20-year-old Drake and Dean Blunt diehard worth the fanfare?

In the early days, before he was fakemink, he was 9090gate. He smoked weed and recorded music from a bedroom crammed with knickknacks and guarded by blackout curtains. He filmed Instagram Lives, including one where he got hit by a car. Over the last couple of years, he has slowly developed a style he calls “dirty luxury”: think food stains on a $10,000 t-shirt. It’s not a super original concept—opulent grime has been the ethos of countless MCs from Rocky to Lone. He wants to give it a fresh spin with his own production and beats from some of the most exciting oddballs in the underground, like deer park, cranes, Yurkiez, mag, and reklus1ve. “Bambi,” produced by prblm, conjures up a drunken walk home at 3 a.m. with rain drizzling lightly over your head. Others like “Bite My Lip” and “Crush” have a deliciously decayed shimmer that makes them feel like 2000s prom hits from an alternate dimension. fakemink’s one of a few in this corner of the underground who writes out lyrics ahead of time instead of punching in fragmented bursts. As a result, his vocals have a kind of stately yet starry-eyed quality, giving structure to these deformed, cosmic beats from the internet abyss. It reminds me of the way Takeoff’s unvarnished tone anchored his Migos partners’ Auto-Tuned warbles.

September 3, 2025 0 comments
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CMAT: EURO-COUNTRY Album Review | Pitchfork
Music

CMAT: EURO-COUNTRY Album Review | Pitchfork

by jummy84 August 31, 2025
written by jummy84

Mothball the cardigans, fluff the feathers, and zhuzh the tulle. lowercase is OVER. It’s all names in lights now. Letters 10 feet high, blazing wattage, full razzle dazzle. The showgirl was back even before Earth’s most famous fiancée ordained it in her new album title: extroverted triple threats hitting every single base, their turbo charisma shaking off the fetid blanket of the pandemic years and smashing through flattened platform hell. Add CMAT to their number. The Irish musician born Ciara Mary-Alice Thompson is a born entertainer: a ham, a wit, a diva who pioneered the bold art of bum cleavage at last year’s BRIT awards. Awe-struck critics have deemed her every cheeky festival performance this summer a heist, a runaway bolt for the big leagues after several years on the slow burn.

A while before “going Nashville” became pop’s default, CMAT was making her name on showstopping Celtic country numbers. In her early 20s, she was depressed, recently single, working as a nightclub shots girl, and trying and failing to make hyperpop to indulge her Charli obsession. She suddenly found her focus by writing the tearcatcher “I Wanna Be a Cowboy, Baby!” “And I feel bad, ’cause I didn’t cry/When someone I grew up with died/But I break down every time I’m on the scales,” she sang, minting her knack for self-aware tragedy, and, in its swaying chorus, for classic melodies. “Cowboy” was the highlight of her 2022 debut, If My Wife New I’d Be Dead. A year later, Crazymad, for Me upped the hit rate with the brilliantly blousy John Grant collaboration “Where Are Your Kids Tonight?” and jaunty fiddle kiss-off “Have Fun!” These songs showed an artist who had the voice of a barmaid Adele, the rhinestone cool of latter-day Jenny Lewis, and comedic chops all her own. “Huh, silly bitch, woo!” she trills in “Have Fun!”, realizing what a sucker she was for giving her ex all her cash.

Her third album in four years, EURO-COUNTRY, is the first to fully realize CMAT’s poly-threat potential. The songwriting packs a new punch and a ferocious sense of yearning. It mixes so many layers—humor, devastation, irrational rage at seeing celebrity chef Jamie Oliver’s face everywhere, politics, a distinct Irishness that has nothing to do with Claddagh rings and splitting the G—and pretty much nails them all.

CMAT coined the title EURO-COUNTRY as a literal descriptor of her sound, a reference to her home country, which became one of the first nations to adopt the Euro currency, in January 1999, and to how capitalism breeds isolation. This is an almost impossible needle to thread, and the title track (and first proper song) does it beautifully. It works at surface level as a sweeping ballad, the bittersweet chorus of “my Euro-Euro-Euro-country” serving both as a tribute and a lament. This huge song also reveals CMAT as a master of lyrical economy as she outlines the impact of growing up through the “Celtic Tiger” period of rapid economic growth in the late ’90s, when Ireland was transformed into a wealthy nation thanks in part to foreign investment and low corporate taxes. It didn’t last: It collapsed during the financial crash, leaving a trail of destruction. In a few brief, matter-of-fact lines, CMAT covers how colonization and globalized ambitions stripped away Irish identity; how political corruption and financial failure blighted the country with unfinished “ghost” housing estates and an epidemic of male suicides: “I was 12 when the das started killing themselves all around me,” she sings. The song bears so much weight and tells us exactly who she is: “And no one says it out loud,” she sings, “but I know it can be better if we hound it.”

August 31, 2025 0 comments
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