elise's sounds of the summer (post-fake-hiatus edition)

it was a 'death of a ladies man' july and i'm here to break it down, friends.

WELL!!!!!!

I want to give everyone a second to wipe their tears. To dry heave. To dab their eyes dramatically, find the correct lighting to really get the effect there. To hug their loved ones, because yes, I have returned from newsletter purgatory to just yell a bunch of nonsense at you for an excessive amount of your time.

I mean, I’m joking – I totally get that you might not have noticed it’s been two months since I’ve sent something from here, despite having posted monthly(-ish) up to this point. All things considered, that’s a pretty good track record – 11 lengthy, too-personal essays isn’t bad for nine months. So, I took the summer off against my own wishes – which I say because I sat agonizing over like three different drafts of what I wanted this newsletter you’re reading now to be. What you’re reading now is obviously not any of those drafts. I decided my ideas need to cook a little bit more before I present it to you in a format that is neither tedious to read nor super melodramatic. There’s a fine line to walk there.

If this is your first time reading, hello and welcome, but you’ve picked the wrong one to start with. Just being frank here. Uncomfortable honesty is what we’re all about on Substack.com! I usually use this to go waaaayyyyy too long about either my feelings or a pop culture artifact/topic or my feelings about a pop culture artifact/topic or all of the above. Initially, I’d wanted this edition to focus on the very broad topic of my experience of online fandom as a teenager – because it was extremely online, but in a very different space than standom as we currently know it on TikTok and the dying bird app and so on and so on. It was both formative for me and the way I write and communicate and think about music, but was also, you know, a hellscape. So! There’s plenty of material to work with! It was just a matter of parsing through my thoughts about it, and it’s something I’ll inevitably come back to. I mean, for example, most of the individual stories I pulled out for the Fever to Tell essay I wrote here were brief snippets that I wrote different drafts of beforehand and didn’t work in their initial forms, so I’ll find where my musings on this topic belong eventually. 

However, I wanted to force myself to write something for you all – just low-stakes and deeply unserious in order to get myself back into the swing of….sounding like myself while I’m writing, if that makes sense. I write a lot of boring comms copy for work, and I have this compulsion to share my intense opinions on things in this forum. So here we are, letting the juices flow. So, I think we should catch up! And by “catch up,” I mean “listen to me rant about the media I consumed while I was on my accidental hiatus,” of course!

But first, let’s do a little bit of stream-of-consciousness life catchup: First of all, I saw John Cale play in person the other weekend. As in, formerly-of-the-Velvet-Underground John Cale. My friend Vanessa, who I’ve mentioned here before, came last-minute and we had a blast and a very old man came up to us to offer us drugs with the opener “You girls want to party?” We said no! I also got to meet several notable newsletter readers – Grace (who has her own blog and is a brilliant writer I really admire and who also just came back from a “hiatus” that we're both pretending we planned) gets a shoutout here because she mentioned the newsletter when I saw her. Yes, I do run this thing like a store where you can mention names for discounts, thank you very much. Life isn’t fair and neither is the intricate web we weave here in the world of music writing.

Anyway, shortly before that day, I was dog-sitting for some of my extended family who live in Asbury Park on the Jersey shore for a chunk of the year, so I worked from their house a block from downtown and like three blocks away from the beach. It was not as relaxing as it sounds – I was still staring at a computer for eight hours a day and some of my family was there with me and it just kinda got to be too much by the end of our run. As the palest person in the continental United States, I am incapable of tanning unless I burn first, so needless to say, I was still just as pale when I left. C’est la vie. I went record shopping and took cute pictures and got my exercise in from that dog pulling me all over the town. It also gave me time to sort through the list you’re going to read in a second.

In less major news? I cried listening to “Together Again” by Janet Jackson on the bus multiple times this summer (always on the bus, no idea why). The Knitting Factory Instagram followed me back, which I have joked cements my spot as THE Carrie Bradshaw of bitching about New York music online (I am completely letting it go to my head, the mighty will have fallen when they inevitably unfollow next week or something). I am currently preparing my Labor Day weekend outfits as if something actually important is going to happen while I’m wearing them – everytime I go out downtown, I do it with the knowledge I could run into Steve Buscemi. Everyone has seen Steve Buscemi except me at this point. One time, he was on the Beauty Bar Instagram like three days after I was at Beauty Bar because the universe hates me. Anyway, speaking of the Knitting Factory, it will be my first time in the new iteration of the venue in the club space that formerly housed the Pyramid Club (RIP). As prophet Hilary Duff once (sort of) sang: hey now, hey now, this is what scenester dreams are made of. The downstairs section is supposedly decorated like a haunted Victorian house? Now, these are what my dreams are made of.

I have also made a hard pivot into getting into fragrances. I’ve worn Glossier You for a few years and I do like it (you only need the scent and the face wash from that company, everything else is snake oil in pretty packaging) but I impulsively bought a bunch of testers from a few independent scent houses because I want to feel like an adult and smell cool (and because I’m not making enough money to just buy something full-sized). I cling to my suspicion that I was a chain smoker in a past life, because I added pretty much everything I could find with tobacco as a primary note to my cart immediately. I have no desire to pick up the habit, but it is the best scent in the world to take in small doses or experience amongst other scents. I will always befriend smokers for this reason. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll deliver my final verdict on my purchases at some point. If you see me this weekend, be sure to lean in and sniff.

On the actual writing front, I’ve been stewing a lot on the state of music journalism and what the fuck we’re all doing circling these big publications that cannot afford to pay us to do anything interesting. I don’t need to go in depth on it and ruin relationships, but let’s just also say that I’ve been ghosted by editors more in the past few months than I would have liked – and it’s not like it’s my first time at the rodeo with a sudden cutoff in communication, it’s just that it’s been done in some really weird ways that go beyond an editor just being overworked. I just kind of don’t know what to do – I’ve made the connections I’ve made through sheer persistence, but sometimes it really does feel like I don’t have the steam to really fight for these things anymore. I do have stuff in the hopper at a few pubs I love working with, but if anyone around my age in the city is starting a publication and is actually cool and wants to have me write about music, bang my line.

Anyway, here’s the grand centerpiece of our little catch-up here: what I’ve been listening to. “What is the song of the summer?” you all ask, and I say, who cares! Let's just talk about the stuff I kept returning to while I wasn’t writing! The new stuff here will probably also make an appearance on my End of Year list I’ll be doing here, so I won’t go too long on each item. Just quick recaps for your benefit.

So! Without further ado, it’s:

Elise’s Fifteen Albums of the Summer

(If you asked me what I was listening to at any point this summer, my answer was either “Kylie Minogue” or “SPELLLING,” both of which are true, but those were more full discography revisits so. “Boys at School” remains the song of the decade for me, and that’s all you need to know. These artists aree present in spirit but do not have albums listed here. Hopefully these legends understand that I have to stay true to my silly little self-determined list rules. Almost nothing in this life is personal.)

ANOHNI and the Johnsons - My Back Was a Bridge For You to Cross (2023)

This sets the template as something that’s not necessarily “summer-y,” but which did get played over and over by me during the summer, therefore making it a blistering, humid, summer-y listening experience. I love ANOHNI and I always have and I always will, so write that down real quick. If you go in knowing nothing about her, I would warn you to prepare yourselves for something heavy in terms of subject matter – in the press for the album, she talked a lot about pulling from the framework that someone like Marvin Gaye set for writing songs about social injustices and adorning them with gorgeous, emotive music, making it accessible. For this reason, it’s a moving-but-never-harrowing listen. It just feels like I’ve always had this in my life, like it’s never not existed.

Amaarae - Fountain Baby (2023)

Not to fear, I’ve followed up the pop-soul social reckoning with something that bangs in the scholarly, traditional sense. Poolside-listening adjacent, I guess. I have the sneaking suspicion that many major pop albums made over the next five years will take something from this album – Afrobeats, as a genre descriptor, is sort of already having its day in the sun, but this is what will blow it up beyond saturation point eventually. That being said, I beg you to dig beyond the singles – my favorite track on here is maybe “Sex, Violence, Suicide,” which starts out as sort of a dreamy, reverb-y track that kinda goes nowhere and then morphs into like…a bratty punk breakdown two-thirds of the way through? Incredible. There are terms we throw around willy-nilly here, and “having range” is one of them, but I think it’s apt in this scenario! “Sociopathic Dance Queen” sounds like a title I would come up with for something, so. I can’t leave her hanging. She makes the list.

Buffy Sainte-Marie - Illuminations (1969)

This legend, icon, and star just announced she’s retiring from touring for health reasons, so I found myself hitting play on this album in particular more than usual. Just trying to savor the fact that we have our greats while we have them, I guess. God-tier opener and closer here, first of all. As we roll into the autumn months, this is what you want on your turntable. Get a beverage with cinnamon and clove in it and listen, it will click.

Charli XCX - True Romance (2013)

When’s the last time you listened to True Romance? Like, obviously, we have this idea of Charli as pretty-much-major-artist now, but pre-PC Music and pre-SOPHIE collabs, even pre-”Boom Clap” and “I Love It,” there is this Charli making cool, very teenage, slightly-left-of-center pop songs. My interest in re-evaluating this stemmed from this time in June where my mom was driving me either to or from the train station in the middle of the night while I was staying with my parents, and one of the radio DJs on Sirius XMU played “Stay Away” – a song I hadn’t heard in years – right at midnight, and I do think driving on a dark, empty road is how you were meant to listen to that song, because everything slotted into place for me. So I’ve been pretty hooked on the (many!) highlights from this since. It’s not the best collection of work she’s ever put out, but I do now have a habit where “You (Ha Ha Ha)” becomes my favorite song whenever I’m drinking. Just for an hour or two! Everyone gets a stamp for every time they see me tweet-and-delete lyrics from it.

Dorthia Cottrell - Death Folk Country (2023)

See, maybe I shouldn't have done these alphabetically, because this feels like it works in tandem with the Buffy Sainte-Marie album. Sister releases. I think this was one of Bandcamp’s weekly picks when it came out, so that’s how I discovered it, and it’s been in heavy rotation ever since. The title pretty much tells you what you’re gonna get, though it’s more “atmospheric, mystical folk” than “country.” I, personally, always eat stuff like this right up. Sometimes, it’s disheartening that all music can’t sound this evil. Truly sinister – which is like the biggest compliment I can give this.

ESG - Come Away with ESG (1983)

One thing to know about me that you probably all already know (considering I just wrote a whole essay pretty much just making this point)? I root for people from the outer boroughs – and not the way like, King Princess (of the Macy’s dynasty) is from Brooklyn. I mean normal people. For example, before I knew anything about Ice Spice or her music, someone told me she grew up ten minutes from my last apartment in the Bronx and I was immediately on board with her. If I made this summer list every year, ESG would pretty much always be on it. This invented your favorite dance-punk band, so fucking kneel. Mutant Disco legends, and above all, Bronx legends. The best walking-around, sweating-on-the-subway music ever.

Leonard Cohen - Death of a Ladies’ Man (1977)

Okay, so I have always been a big Leonard Cohen person, to the surprise of no one here, I’m sure. Big high school energy for me. If you have ever heard a Leonard Cohen song before, it was not from this album – it’s famously bloated and overblown, as produced by convicted murderer/noted abuser who I’m sure is currently having a ball in hell, Phil Spector. He tried to pull a knife on Leonard during the sessions for this, and the Ramones obviously did not learn from his mistake because they hired him a few years later and that recording process was equally as disastrous. Imagine Johnny Ramone and Spector in the same room. You just know that was a Joey request. Anyway, the Wall of Sound sounds like its groaning in pain as it tumbles down here – All Things Must Past or the Ronettes/Crystals material (or even the Dion album he did the year before this, which might’ve been more of the aim here), it is not – but now, as an “adult” who buys real perfume (one of which was called “Death of a Ladies Man”! I heard of the fragrance house through Twitter mutuals but then it came up again when I was searching for something from this album — the scent is very fresh and basil-y, do with that what you will), I appreciate it. It’s certainly not where to start with his catalog, but I love “Iodine.” I love “Memories.” “Fingerprints” is Leonard BROOKS (it’s twangy)!!!! Leonard UNDERWOOD !!!! That racist fucker J*s*n Ald**n was found scalped in a back alley, counting his days. If you want some reprieve from Songs of Love and Hate, bask in the sleazy, drunk absurdity here.

Liv.e - Girl in the Half Pearl (2023)

Weirdo neo-psychedelia with a neo-soul bent. Alternates between like, great, catchy, self-contained songs and experimental interludes, which lets it balance both cohesion and sprawl in a way I find super compelling. I missed out on the chance to see her live at the beginning of July, opening for Kelela – who made what is easily a top-ten album of the year so far To Me – so, a bummer on two accounts. Two bummer birds with one stone. Anyway, this feels fresh in a way that not a lot does to me at this stage in the game. Other people exist in her avenue, broadly but not in this specific lane, if that makes sense. Would kill to see her live next time she comes around.

Marine Girls - Lazy Ways / Beach Party (1983/1981 really, but the combined comp came out in 1988)

I’m iffy with the proto-twee stuff sometimes, I can’t lie. I do love Dolly Mixture, which feels ...maybe not more “punky.” “Punk” might not be the word for that band and it’s certainly not for this band, aside from the fact that the music is simple and harkens back to other eras while stripping them of all excess or rock star posturing. This transcends whatever issues I have both because the songwriting is great and because Tracey Thorn’s voice has always been undeniable – yes, pre-Everything But the Girl Tracey Thorn! Cute, breezy, occasionally funny love songs that don’t cloy. No glockenspiel that I can remember, which is usually a good thing. I’m really, really glad it exists.

Pulp - This Is Hardcore (1998)

Those who watch me post all day will know that this has been my Summer of Pulp aka my Jarvis Cocker Renaissance aka my Jarvissance. I really only knew the hits before (and what hits they still are, in my estimation, my God), but even before I delved into the full records, I knew I was going to harbor a soft spot for This Is Hardcore. I tend to enjoy this album archetype: the one that comes after the hit album where the artist gets a ton of pressure from the label and the fans, and then people don’t like the dark and/or less conventional new direction they take, and it’s hailed as an underrated classic 20 years on. I mean, I wrote a whole thing about Is This Desire? here, you know I love these albums. Jarvis Cocker is well aware that this is a cliché path to take, and literally makes the whole opening track a meta commentary on the blueprint he’s drawing from (“This is the sound of someone losing the plot / Making out that they're okay when they're not / You're gonna like it, but not a lot”). He feels he’s being fucked by the whole professional situation he’s been placed in, and what’s worse is that his being fucked is filmed and distributed and watched and monitored by the general public – hence the title/title track. There’s a whole song about how he, too, knows he’s probably too old and not cool enough to be dating Chloe Sevigny (circa The Last Days of Disco)! A relatable man of the people, first and foremost. The whole project is just grim, totally hopeless. Not summer-y at all. And yet! My falling in love was a correct prediction! They’re putting out a book with behind-the-scenes photos from the four music videos these singles spawned soon and I’m beyond excited.

Santigold - Santigold (2008)

I’ve mentioned this album in the newsletter before, so I’ll keep it brief. Santigold is someone who has several great albums to her name, but I will always stand by the take that her first outing is sheer brilliance. We never hype her up as much as we should. This shit holds up! Hit after hit! I would venture to say not a single dud! “L.E.S. Artistes” is an eternal New York soothsayer, as my last newsletter showed us. Let’s talk about “I’m A Lady”! “Shove It”! “Starstruck”! I will lay down on the tracks for them! It’s gotten to the point where when things with Santigold come out, people will automatically send them to me, which is a torch I’m glad to carry. I received multiple links to her Amoeba “What’s In My Bag?” video when it went up recently. I’m resigned to doing Santi’s PR for free forever and it’s an honor, frankly.

Sinéad O’Connor - The Lion and The Cobra (1987)

This is a near-perfect album – and I say near-perfect only because I only like “I Want Your (Hands on Me),” whereas I adore every other song beyond what I can articulate. I mean, pretty much the entire first-half run, culminating in “Troy”? Untouchable. The one, the only. The first thing I said when I heard the news was, “Wow, it’s been a while since someone started a huge rumor about a celebrity death like this.” I thought there was no way it could be real. We all talk about the big hit that she didn’t write from the following album – but this is the key to her artistry, for me. I’m still furious. She is eternal and in everything I hear these days.

Snooper - Super Snōōper (2023)

So, this is one of the bands I’m seeing at TV Eye on Sunday, and this also is one of my most played albums of the summer. Quick, chaotic art-punk songs. My Twitter mutual and fellow Scorpio Anthony Fantano made a Suburban Lawns comparison, and that’s pretty much spot-on. I eat shit like that up, we all know this. I’ll probably have more to say after I see their set, but if you want a fun, bizarre 20-minute listen to kick your month off, go for this.

Sweeping Promises - Good Living Is Coming for You (2023)

Another band that feels reverse-engineered for me to love them. Intentionally recorded to sound rough and primal, feels like it’s in that similar vein of Essential Logic or Pylon or maybe even the previously-mentioned ESG – but definitely with more conventional song structure than Snooper. I was unhealthily obsessed with the stand-alone single “Pain Without a Touch” they put out a few years ago, and even with all that anticipation on my end, I feel like this has only grown on me since it came out. This might actually be….my definitive album of this summer? If I had to pick one? I put it on when I’m doing stuff I find tedious at work or when I’m commuting or when I’m cleaning – it improves any activity I don’t want to do, and I feel like that’s a peak compliment. Again, another show I missed when they were in town because I was dog-sitting down the shore. I will not get over it until they tour again. This is my promise to you. I’m good with a grudge, even if I have to hold it against myself.

Various Artists - You’re Not From Around Here (2019)

Now, you all know about my eternal struggle with country music. I am – as my Vermont friends have labeled me – a “city slicker who couldn’t start a fire if their life depended on it.” I certainly do not know about the okey-smokey outlaw ways of the giants in the genre, and I feel as though I’m missing out as a result. Obviously, country is having a major mainstream moment right now, but that just might be a culture war thing! Or is it people from everywhere really connecting to this music I don’t get? I honestly feel like I’m too outside of it to tackle the long read on that – seeing as I can’t even really critique it correctly, I just draw a blank most of the time unless it’s like, coming from a campy angle or it’s like, just Neil Young, who isn’t even really a country artist and is from fucking Canada. HOWEVER, my devotion to Numero Group knows no bounds, and I adore this compilation – which is in fact a country comp! There’s some rockabilly thrown in there, but it’s mostly long-lost or obscure country material from the 50s and 60s and whenever I throw this on, I’m hypnotized. If you are not a country person, but love music that sounds like it was recorded cheaply in a bygone era – like you can hear the room in the recording – and sounds haunted as a result, give this a spin. And Numero, give me a job. I’m keeping your lights on, babes.

Now, a quick follow-up list, because it feels relevant:

Elise’s Top Five Live Music Sets of the Summer

(King Krule at Kings Theatre was on the shortlist for this but the crowd absolutely sucked. Not in the sense that they didn’t bring energy to the show, but in the sense that it was the Brooklyn dirtbag boy convention of the year. Unless it’s a small venue or a DIY show, I think everyone who yells something at the stage that isn’t “woo” or “yeah” should be removed from the premises at this point. No one thinks you’re funny, Brian. Now’s not the time to have a conversation with a stranger who’s working. What do you hope to gain by yelling the artist’s name over and over again? The fuck are they gonna do? They know their name already! Do you want him to come down off the stage and give you a star sticker? Give me a fucking break. Anyway, the set itself was incredible, so he gets a mention. You don’t pick your fans, it’s not on him. 

There are also other favorites shows I might write about later, so those exceptions will also be warming the bench for my list here.)

Angelica Garcia at Heaven Can Wait

This was at a label showcase I attended with a bunch of said label’s recent signings, so I went in pretty much blind. I will say, I enjoyed every performance I got to hear, but there’s nothing like the shock of knowing you are hearing and seeing something totally, dumbfoundingly genius when you didn’t know you were going to hear or see it, and Miss Garcia delivered that sensation for me. I immediately started going through her back catalog when I left the party, and I’ve remained obsessed since. She’s been doing free shows in the city throughout the summer and you missed out big time if you didn’t go to any of them. So fucking cool.

Jockstrap at Elsewhere

I went through this sober and maybe should not have – people were passing poppers around like it was going out of style. But you know what? I had the time of my goddamn life dancing like an idiot near the back. This was one of two artists on this list that made my top-ten albums list for last year, so I went in with high expectations, but Georgia Ellery? The woman that you are? An absolute fucking star. Full-on Pearl yelling “but I’m a STARRRRRRRR!!!!!!!” She deserves that energy level. This picture I got was not “good” but I was too busy trying to pull my jaw up to take something decent.

Le Tigre at Brooklyn Steel

The day I had before the show was one of the best I’ve had in a while, and then I got to see theeee Kathleen Hanna perform some of my favorite songs of all time. I have nothing else to say about that. It felt like sunshine trying to burst out of my chest. Ribs could’ve cracked and I didn’t care.

Grace Ives at Knockdown Center (Outline Festival)

Two of two for top-ten albums last year, and once again, what I hoped for was delivered. Grace is a national treasure, everyone cool knows this. I was at the barrier with a few other girls who had her shirts on and she sang to us for most of the show and thanked us after the set. For the “Are you angry?” line in “Angel of Business,” she looked me right in the eye and pointed at me. I have an angry face, so this is not the first time such a question has been asked – like, fair enough girl! I get it! I became re-obsessed with her first album after this set, and it made the shortlist for my fifteen albums here but I didn’t want to double-dip. OH, and she also did a kinda-sorta cover of “Blitzkrieg Bop,” which I say because she introduced it as a song she doesn’t know all the words to and then proceeded to sing new verses. It was so in my lane I couldn’t even dream it up myself. A win for the borough of Queens on several levels.

The Cure at Madison Square Garden

I mean…..come on. Finally seeing what is probably my favorite band of all time if I had to choose? It had to be here. Robert Smith opened his mouth and sang and I was there. How wild is that. I thought about writing a whole newsletter surrounding this show, but had no idea how to articulate what I felt unless it was in short bursts. I’m not great with stadium shows: it feels like I’m watching the action on TV or something. There were screens closer to us, but you know what I mean – like the figures are so far away that you’re not sure they’re real people. But listen, I got to hear that man sing “Plainsong” live and say things in that voice, so I can go out tomorrow and know I’ve done what I needed to, send in the snipers, it’s whatever. “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea” started and I got up so fast that I felt my eyes stinging with tears in them as I moved. Same for “A Night Like This.” I’ve heard that song a billion times, with minimal exaggeration, but I started really thinking about how many Cure songs are about the desire to consume, to swallow something else whole in order to make it a part of yourself. Not in a totally physical way – it’s more romantic than that. I’ve written about how claustrophobic it all feels, but it’s like he knows he can’t touch without the need to devour whole and carry with him. Like, “The way that you look at me now / Makes me wish I was you.” I get it. I understand. I’ll never recover.

Anyway, that’s all. I have a tentative lineup for at least the next two or three newsletters – fall is coming! Scorpio season looms in the shadows, waiting to shove Libra season out of the way, WWE Smackdown style! What a time! Big kiss. Make yourself a fun Labor Day beverage in my honor. See you all soon.