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Arts
Friday, February 5, 2016 — 5
Bloc Party’s ‘Hymns’
simple and soothing
By DANIELLE IMMERMAN
Daily Arts Writer
Before indie-rock Tumblr girls
obsessed over Arctic Monkeys,
there was Bloc Party. Effortless,
provocative,
innovative and
distinct,
Bloc
Party
is
by
far my favor-
ite indie-rock
band. In fact,
their
2008
Intimacy
was
my first real
favorite album
— they just have a way of mod-
ernizing the gloomy yet beauti-
fully poetic sound of The Smiths
in a modern and slightly more
electronic way. Given that my
love for Bloc Party is still very
much alive, you can imagine my
disappointment when I first lis-
tened to Hymns.
I hated it. I thought it was
basic, try-hard and vaguely remi-
niscent of something I heard
before. However, I then realized
that for the past hour I had been
streaming the wrong album. I
was, in fact, listening to their
failed 2012 electronic mess of
an album, Four. For a solid hour
I was beside myself — a visible
pile of tears may or may not have
surrounded me in the middle
of Espresso Royale. I couldn’t
understand why Kele Okereke
and the rest of Bloc Party went on
a three-year hiatus and suffered
through the perils of a lineup
change, only to came back with a
sub-par album. I was devastated.
Confused. Heartbroken.
Luckily, thanks to iTunes
(Spotify, you suck), I eventually
listened to Hymns. Compared to
Four, Hymns is a drastic improve-
ment as a whole. Inspired by reli-
gious memorabilia found in his
parents’ home, Okereke attempts
to make this album a modern day
religious gospel by masking his
somewhat religiously fueled lyr-
ics with overpowering instru-
mentals.
Whether you like Bloc Party
or not, it’s inarguable that their
sound is unlike any other indie-
rock band’s — they have an ability
to create their own genre within
a genre. Yes, it’s indie-rock, but
it’s more than that. Electronic
beats overtake each track with
underlying gospel, jazz and new
wave elements popping up when
you least expect it — resulting
in a sound that, when you hear a
song playing, can only be identi-
fied as Bloc Party.
This unique sound is pushed
to its limits in all 15 tracks on
Hymns. Violins are electronically
warped, each guitar riff never
appears to resemble the last and
Okereke’s DJ sound mixing past
is put on full display. The listen-
ing experience is never unenjoy-
able, you never want to press next
and to play Hymns on a loop for
the rest of time is a distinct pos-
sibility — but this in and of itself
is a problem.
I can play this album non-stop,
time and time again and never
tire of it because it has a way of
fading into the background. It’s
noise, but it’s pleasant noise.
It’s soothing yet predictable. It
doesn’t stir any emotions in me.
It doesn’t make me want more
from Bloc Party.
Fundamentally, the problem
with Hymns is that the balance
between sound and lyrics is heav-
ily skewed in favor of sound. For
example, “Only He Can Heal Me”
is a catchy song — the distinct
heartbeat rhythm that overtakes
the song makes for a great listen,
but you’re so caught up in the
the sound that the lyrics easily
lose when at battle with the beat.
Much of the album is like this
— the lyrics fade into the back-
ground of the noise. Only two
songs really prove otherwise;
“Into the Earth” and “Exes” both
lack heavy electronic beats.
“Into the Earth” is the most
stripped down song on the
album — the dominating sound
is the distinctive guitar chords
that fluctuate between staccato
plucks and smooth riffs, a depar-
ture from the mostly electronic
basis for the album. With less
going on instrumentally, it’s eas-
ier for Okereke’s lyrics to actu-
ally be heard — the problem is
that what we hear isn’t anything
noteworthy.
“Exes” is similar to “Into the
Earth” in its seemingly simplis-
tic sound — the main focus of
the song is the lyrics with a mel-
low, smooth backdrop of sound.
Okereke croons “To all the exes /
That I left behind / These words
will fall short / But I must try.”
This would be a great chorus if it
weren’t actually true; his words
do fall short and he barely tries.
This isn’t to say that this song, or
any song for that matter, is bad.
Each song on the album is good
and different from what other
bands produce.
The album, as a whole, is a
pleasant listen, but after you listen
to each song over and over again,
everything blurs. Although the
electronic beats and rhythms are
unique, Okereke fails to vocally
and lyrically match each song’s
distinct instrumentals. The result
is 15 songs that sound great but
mean very little.
TV REVIEW
‘The Virgin’ still fun
By DANIELLE YACOBSON
Daily Arts Writer
After
an
unbearably
bleak
month of attempting to be enter-
tained by real people’s mundane
drama,
hear-
ing the words
“accidentally
artificially
inseminated”
has never felt
better. “Jane the
Virgin” is back
with
a
killer
midseason pre-
miere,
making
up for lost time
with an excep-
tionally hip and
“in with the gays” Abuela, a guest
appearance from Glam-ma (Rita
Moreno, “West Side Story”) and a
college English class with giants.
An explanation will follow.
In the telenovela world of drug
lords and baby kidnappers, the
badassery that exudes from Gina
Rodriguez is the only constant.
The second Latina woman to ever
win the Golden Globe for Best
Actress in a TV Comedy, Rodri-
guez (“Filly Brown”) delivers a
consistently exceptional perfor-
mance as Jane. A single, working
mom with dreams of a career and
more on her mind than the next
guy, Jane shines as one of the most
inspirational women on television.
Her one-of-a-kind sense of humor,
brains and general awesomeness
are only heightened by her acute
sensitivity, a characteristic that is
too often either entirely lacking
from independent female leads
or portrayed as their detrimental
flaw. Instead, Jane’s vulnerability
is a testament to her strength as
she unapologetically embraces all
the emotions that come with rais-
ing a child, starting a career and
constantly reevaluating the messi-
ness of her love life.
The midseason premiere kicks
off with the terrifying realiza-
tion that the “Great Books” litera-
ture class that Jane is teaching is
instead coined “Books for Ballers.”
A swarm of six-foot athletes (the
previously
mentioned
giants)
enters. Understandably, a visceral
reaction to the word “sports” fol-
lows shortly thereafter as Jane has
traumatic flashbacks to elementa-
ry school gym class. But, in the true
glass-half-full spirit of Jane Glori-
ana Villanueva, she bravely sacri-
fices the home telenovela reel for
a sports broadcast in an attempt to
connect with her students. “Pride
and Prejudice” is translated into
“baller” terms as the athletically-
challenged viewers gawk at the
millionth reason why Jane is the
coolest person ever.
“Jane the Virgin” constantly
delivers
surprising
character
development that easily rivals
the usual melodrama of artificial
pregnancies and presumed-to-be-
dead-mothers-turned-drug-lords
— yet another quality that sets the
show apart from other network
comedies. Season two begins to
convince the audience that the
now very pregnant Petra (Yael
Grobglas,
“Jeruzalem”)
might
not be the physical manifestation
of evil after all. Her mistakes, as
ridiculous as they may be, color the
misguided “villain” in a weirdly
relatable way. At the very least, the
fiery anger sparked by the second
not-so-accidental
insemination
has died into a controllable sizzle.
For the record, there are now three
babies, and nobody has had sex.
The midseason premiere was
light on the Michael-Rafael-
Jane love triangle, but romance
is inarguably on the horizon for
the rest of the season. Michael
might claim he has “moved on”
with a new girlfriend, but the rest
of us are definitely not ready to
let go. Nevertheless, the Villan-
ueva women have a collectively
long list of suitors, and if there’s
anything the audience can unani-
mously agree on, it’s that we are
all #TeamJane.
ALBUM REVIEW
Your 3 a.m. thoughts
By SHIMA SADAGHIYANI
For the Daily
The Brooklyn-based trio known
as Wet first turned heads with their
self-titled, four-track EP in late
2013. Through
songs such as
“Dreams,” “No
Lie” and “You’re
the Best,” Wet
introduced
a
sound that was
organically
beautiful in its
simplicity. With
Kelly Zutrau’s enchanting vocals
layered perfectly over the sparse
and muted electronic background,
it felt like this EP was the begin-
ning of even greater albums to
come.
Boy, what a disappointment.
Wet’s debut 11-track album,
Don’t You, is the physical embodi-
ment of 3 a.m. thoughts: lonely,
ambient yet weirdly empty and
unfocused. The most impactful
thing this album drops is the idea
that Kelly Zutrau doesn’t want to
be your girl anymore (but she’s,
like, super sad about it). Don’t You
keeps the same unique sound Wet
instituted with their EP: breathy
vocals and an idiosyncratic beat,
which worked in the short EP
but causes the much longer Don’t
You to sound repetitive and dis-
illusioned. All the different ways
Wet could have developed their
music further were pushed aside
somewhere between the years of
2013 and 2016, leaving Don’t You
with a set of similar-sounding
songs scrambling to push past
superficiality.
One such song is “Body.” As
the second-to-last song in the
album, its slow, churning beat
would be a serene way to wrap
up Don’t You — if the same struc-
ture wasn’t repeated at various
points earlier in the album with
songs “Move Me” and “Island.”
At four minutes long, “Body” is
just exhausting to get through.
The other songs fare no better.
The constantly reiterated “call
me by my real name / say my
name out loud” in “Move Me”
loses all meaning in its monoto-
ny, and the slow, mournful bal-
lad “Island” weighs the album
down with its heaviness. These
songs, standing alone, are gen-
erally harmonious and pleasant
to listen to for roughly three to
four minutes; the problem arises
when they’re put together in one
album, as they bore the listener
with unvaried tones.
However, songs like “Weak”
and “Small and Silver” redeem
the album from becoming a com-
plete failure, and they show what
could’ve been if Wet pushed
themselves to experiment with
their sound just a little bit more.
In “Weak,” the structured “oh
baby, baby, baby / if you’re leavin’,
leavin’, leavin’ / you would only,
only, only / take from me, me, me”
of the chorus contrasts nicely with
the more organic verses, making
the song more engaging. “Small
and Silver” is exactly what its title
promises: delicate and innocent,
yet grounded through the deep
electronic bass that remains con-
stant through the song.
The one song that has any dif-
ferentiation from the rest of the
album is the final song, “These
Days.” Armed with only a soft
piano melody in the background
(an extreme divergence from the
rest of the album’s heavy depen-
dence on a glossy, computerized
rhythm) Zutrau is almost naked
as she croons, “today I scare so
easily / these days I can’t take too
much.” It’s a deeply personal and
raw moment for both the band and
the listeners. And it really shows
how amazing Wet could be if they
turned away from trying to make
all songs fit a particular mold.
Don’t You finishes with “These
Days,” and one can only hope
that it’s as much as a salute to
new beginnings as it is a conclu-
sion. Even though Wet has mas-
tered creating intimate songs that
explode with sensuality and sen-
sitivity, they have also mastered
creating songs that explode with
similarity. Through their EP, Wet
had a good base to stand on while
they augmented their music to
explore all the different types of
songs they could create, but they
just didn’t take the chance. Don’t
You is unfulfilling in the sense that
it could have been so much more
if Wet trusted themselves enough
to step into unknown territory.
Instead of an indistinguishable
blend of homogeneity featuring
breathy vocals and overly polished
tempos, perhaps this new album
would have been an adventure, full
of spontaneous twists and turns.
But, hey, Wet is only just get-
ting started. And “These Days”
showed enough of a glimpse to
be hopeful that Wet’s next album
will be as good as what Don’t You
could have been.
D
ear Gillian,
It’s not that I have
trouble making up my
mind. It’s just that I want to know
everything before I do. So I am
incessantly
reaching out
for input. I
have my ther-
apist once a
week, I see my
two academic
advisors every
other week
and I com-
municate with
the teacher
who mentored
me in high school almost every
day. My sister was understanding
when I was younger, but now she’s
stopped taking my late night calls.
I once hired a “life coach” and I’ve
seen a psychic several times. OK,
more than several times. Now I’m
writing to “Dear Gillian.” Is there
something wrong with wanting a
lot of input? — Advice Addict
Dear Advice Addict,
OK, let’s embark on this meta
journey: advice on advice. The
first thing I did upon reading
your letter was to consult the
great Oracle at Delphi.
The mystical prognostications
of the Oracle at Delphi held great
sway in the classical mythology
and literature of Ancient Greece
and early Rome. Those of the
ancient world would come to
Pythia, the priestess of Apollo,
for prophecies and questions
about the future. The Oracle
touches the lives of towering
literary figures from the mur-
derous and incestual prophecy
of Oedipus, (kills his father,
marries his mother) to the epic
heroes Achilles and Odysseus.
The Oracle worked herself up
into a mystical frenzy in contact-
ing the godly realm to divine her
prophecy for you. The Oracle
emerged to offer simply this: “no
one was wiser than Socrates.”
So if the psychics weren’t doing
it for you, maybe sit down with
a philosophy professor or two
in Angell Hall. But be careful,
philosophy tends to answer ques-
tions with questions, as Socrates
was known to do. This will either
take your advice addiction to a
whole ’nother level or it will cure
you of it for good.
Religions across the globe are
full of advisors and seers. Proph-
ets in the Abrahamic religions
serve as middlemen between
God and mortals, dispensing
what amounts to advice. Joseph
interprets his dream to prepare
the Pharaoh and the Egyptians
for years of drought and famine.
For you, Ad, I chose a random
minor Biblical prophet, figur-
ing he might have time on his
hands to deal with your situa-
tion. Jonah was asked by God to
go give advice to the Ninevites
to repent or be destroyed, but
he wants nothing to do with it.
He tries to escape his task, gets
swallowed by a sea monster and
saved by God, and then grate-
fully heads to Ninevah, where
his prophecy saves the day.
Jonah offers to you this sugges-
tion: “Compare the advice you
have received with the advice
you have followed.” I’m not sure
what this means, but if it helps,
let me know.
In the Vedas texts and Upani-
shads of Hinduism, we see early
references to gurus: literal and
spiritual teachers who counsel
people, help mold their values
and help them find the path. In
the Sikh tradition, Guru Nanak
drops some hymnal knowl-
edge: “Truth before me, Truth
throughout Time, Truth here
and now, Truth is evermore.” Got
that? All good?
Yoruba priests in Africa imag-
ine two parts of the cosmos:
“aye,” the visible, tangible world
of the living and “orun,” the spir-
itual world of the ancestors, gods
and spirits. The priests commu-
nicate with the spiritual world as
a source of wisdom and interpret
the significance of the signs they
receive for individuals or com-
munities. Listen for the rustling
of leaves at night because there’s
truth in the spirits that move
them.
In the Shakespearean tradi-
tion, soothsayers predict the
future and serve as dramatic plot
devices. In “Julius Caesar” the
soothsayer delivers an omen and
speaks the badass line: “beware
the Ides of March.” The charac-
ters don’t pay much attention,
but the words alert the audi-
ence and raise the question of
fate. Could it have been altered?
To you, this same character
soothsays to “Beware the Ides of
April,” which is either the date of
your Econ final or the day your
tax returns are due — either way,
solid advice.
By this point, the one thing
that should be clear is that not
everyone — and surely not Dear
Gillian — can be trusted for good
counsel. Oftentimes people in
your life have their own interests
or are so embedded in a societal
system they can’t give objective
advice. Your friend who’s tryna
turn up might not be the best
advisor on whether you stay in
and catch up on sleep or go take
a pickleback at Mash. In Balzac’s
19th century novel “Le Pere
Goriot,” Rastignac, a young law
student from the country, tries
to tap into Parisian high society.
He takes advice from corrupt
neighbors and acquaintances
who push him toward callous
social climbing informed by the
ethos of the city, rather than by
genuine concern. You ultimately
have to mediate your intake of
counsel.
The early 20th century
advice scene took a break from
divinely sourced prophecy and
was instead an era influenced by
Freud’s psychoanalysis. Here,
the objective is not prescriptive
but analytic: you need to uncover
repressed elements of your self
that may help you understand
your internal desires and deter-
mine what course of action
suits you best. Inspired by this
revelatory elevation of the sub-
conscious, Surrealist artists used
various techniques to bring it
forth. Exercises such as creating
an “exquisite corpse” where mul-
tiple artists collaborate on a ren-
dering of a human body, like the
one done by Yves Tanguy, Joan
Miro, Max Morise, and Man Ray
from 1926-27, allowed surrealists
to transcend the rational mind.
Martha Graham dug down to
find the subconscious or “inner
landscape” embodied in move-
ment. She believed emotions
not easily expressed by words
could be communicated through
dance: contractions and releases.
Her choreography in “Lamenta-
tion” is rich with emotion and
the corporeal representation of
grief. Sometimes your body can
tell you more than your mind and
will give you signals to how you
feel about a certain situation or
decision.
Not that there’s anything
wrong with advice, counseling or
therapy, from whatever trusted
source. It is time well-spent.
The reality is that most people
feel overwhelmed at some point
and need to vent the anxieties
of our modern lives where we’re
blessed with too many oppor-
tunities and too much time for
self-reflection. Plus without it,
we wouldn’t have those satiri-
cal Woody Allen scenes or New
Yorker cartoons. The parodies
are entertaining, but also com-
forting in a sense.
I’d love to know how your
modern-day psychics compare
with the oracles, priests, gurus,
soothsayers and prophets; but
friends, sisters, therapists and
academic advisors can only go
so far. As I believe the arts are
the fountainheads of powerful
wisdom, AA, find a book, film,
museum exhibit or performance
that deals in some way with your
dilemma du jour, and you’ll be
surprised how the same human
heartaches recur and recur with
creative solutions in the archives.
E-mail deargillian@michigandaily.
com describing a quandary about
love, relationships, existence or
their opposites. We may publish
your letter with your first name (or
penname). Submissions should
be 250 words or fewer and may
be edited prior to publication.
CULTURAL CURES COLUMN
Who do I trust?
GILLIAN
JAKAB
VAGRANT
More like Beach Party
A-
Jane the
Virgin
Season 2 Midsea-
son Premiere
Mondays at
9 p.m.
The CW
ALBUM REVIEW
B
Hymns
Bloc Party
Vagrant
B-
Don’t You
Wet
Columbia