A Song For Friday: Vines

Cassie Wieland's project makes its biggest, saddest statement yet. Also: NODEGA, Madeline Kenney, Billie Marten, DJ Haram, Disiniblud, and Sofie Birch & Antonina Nowacka

Cassie Wieland, I noted in 2019, seemed to be a composer “who may just be moving too fast to make an album right now.” My review of in a (once-) blossomed place, her split EP with Erich Barganier, ended with the proviso, “Grab on now - next time you look, they will be somewhere else.” But I had no idea that Wieland’s road would lead to the magnificence of Vines.

As proven on her first EP, Birthday Party, her “signature sound of pillowy keyboards, treated vocals, and deep melancholy” is not lost when she expands beyond the original setup of herself, cross-legged on the floor, playing a synth and singing. But that collection only hinted at how big, how beautiful, how powerful the Vines’ sound could become. Well, now we know, thanks to the release of I’ll Be Here, which realizes Wieland’s vision in IMAX proportions. It’s not only that the sounds seem more richly layered, but the compositions are more rigorous, with structures that carry you through from emotional kernels to universal, even cosmic musical truths.

Undercurrent, which comes late in the first half of the collection, is a perfect example. Starting with one droning line that soon becomes a thick ribbon of sound, with synths joined by harmonics from Adrianne Munden-Dixon’s violin, long lines from Helen Newby’s cello, layers of saxophones (Jordan Lulloff and Julian Velasco), double bass (Pat Swoboda), guitar (Mike Tierney, who also co-produced the album with Wieland), and Adam Holmes’ cymbals crashing like waves, the piece develops and morphs before your ears, like a murmuration of starlings transformed into sound. Just when it seems ready to burst apart, it’s over. Listen

The rest of the album is equally incredible and demands to be listened to in sequence, from the devastation of the first song, Am I Getting Sick, to the tear-stained resilience of the title track, which brings us to some resolution in nearly symphonic fashion. Wieland is operating at an intersection of classical, electronic, pop, and rock that is all her own on the map of music. Include Vines on your listening itinerary.

Note: Vines will celebrate the release of I’ll Be Here with a concert at Berlin on June 24th. Make a plan.

Listen to most of the songs for Friday here or below.

Other Recent Releases

NODEGA - Rot In Helvetica Like one of those “change one letter, ruin a band” memes come to life, NODEGA is the hardcore punk alter ego of Bodega, the long-running art-punk/agit-prop band from Brooklyn. They’re louder, faster, and snottier than the “original” band, with shouted choruses, thrashing drums, and machine-gunning guitars driving these brief songs, eight of them in less than 20 minutes. The sloganeering is all Bodega, however, with Network being a perfect example. Like an even more frazzled version of Doers, the standout track from 2022’s Broken Equipment, Ben Hozie (AKA NODEGA Ben) barking out lines like “Every single night go to shows/Network Texting on the john at yr job/Network/Waiting room at the hospital/ Network/Love to get to love you/Show me what’s yr net worth/Network.” Pursuing your dreams amidst the deprecations of late capitalism is a grind, for sure, but so much fun with NODEGA at your side and in your earbuds.

DJ Haram - Beside Myself With frantic Middle Eastern percussion, electronic drums, blistering guitar (Abdul Hakim Bilal, perhaps), and muttered transmissions from the outskirts of nowhere, IDGAF is the perfect synecdoche of this thrilling album. DJ Haram first came my way via 700 Bliss, her “powerfully skeletal” collaborative project with Moor Mother. That towering figure in experimental hip hop, classical music, and poetry is on one song here, too, the doomy Lifelike. Other guest voices show up, including ELUCID and Billy Woods in Armand Hammer guise, but Haram is in full control throughout.

Madeline Kenney - Kiss From The Balcony In some ways, Kenney’s last album, A New Reality Mind, was in the “breakup” genre, having been made in the aftermath of her partner’s departure and finding her mostly building tracks on her own. Having toured those “brave, sad songs” with occasional collaborators Ben Sloan (drums) and Stephen Patota (guitars), she found herself in a new partnership, musically speaking, and the trio took the tight unit into the studio. The results find Kenney leaning even further into her art-rock passions, with songs taking odd left turns and her voice displaying the flexibility to inhabit a variety of personae. The sense of fantasy is grounded in Sloan’s drums, which draw on Motown’s rhythms and ensure nothing gets bogged down. The fact that Kenney can go this far out while still managing to create an intimate, relatable experience is just one of the joys of Kiss From The Balcony.

Billie Marten - Dog Eared Based upon my surface-skim of this English singer-songwriter’s previous four albums, this is a reset record for her. But when you consider her first album came out nearly 10 years ago, when she was just 15, it makes sense that she would want to try something new. Connecting with American producer Philip Weinrobe, who’s had a hand in some of my favorite albums of recent years (including Florist’s self-titled and Tomberlin’s I Don’t Know Who Needs To Hear This, both Top 25 albums from 2022), and musicians (Sam Evian, Adam Brisbin, etc.) who’ve done exquisite work with Cassandra Jenkins and Hannah Cohen, among many others, seems have done the trick. There’s a lovely, lived-in sound to Dog Eared, with each mellow track matching the contours of Marten’s songs through creative instrumentation and production. From vintage keyboards to overdriven guitars, the instruments are played with love and care, and Marten’s unaffected soprano feels right at home. That’s not to say those four earlier albums were bad; they’re just a little bit generic in their approach. Marten comes across as a fully-formed individual here and one I’m very happy to meet.

Disiniblud - s/t Anyone hearing about an electronic music duo with a name pronounced “Disney Blood" would be excused for expecting dark and dystopian soundscapes. Rachika Nayar and Nina Keith have instead given us something uplifting and optimistic in tone. Both are multi-instrumentalists, composers, and producers with expertise using a wealth of synths and software. Nayar is also a highly original guitarist and, when I saw them in Bryant Park last month, Keith added some textures with an electric bass. However, when listening to the album, it’s more the emotions that come through than individual sounds. Voices are here, too, both sung and sampled, along with some guests, including Katie Dey, the inventive Australian artist whose Forever Music was a highlight of 2022. That was the same year Nayar released the immersive Heaven Comes Crashing, but I caught up with her in 2023, thanks to a livestreamed concert from the Pitchfork Festival. And I’m glad I did, as being a fan is paying off with this wonderful collection.

Sofie Birch & Antonina Nowacka - Hiraeth Following up Languouria, their 2022 collection, this Danish/Polish duo has created an even richer environment for dreaming and drifting. The title is a Welsh word that has been compared to the Portuguese saudade and means a deep longing for something, especially home. Blending zithers, harps, classical guitars, DX7, minimoog, vibraphone, percussion, steel drums, and pipe organ with the sounds of the Polish countryside and the occasional vocal, this lush collection generates hiraeth for itself. Play it once, and you’ll long to get back to the mood it creates.

From The Archives

A Song For Friday: Vines

Best Of 2023: Rock, Folk, Etc.

Best Of 2019: Classical

Note: The graphic above is based on a photo by Bao Ngo.