Doubt, worry and weed dominate three recent local albums
MilkDrop
Dear Sleep, Soon Enough
(Self-released)
The first installment of what MilkDrop says is a three-part series, Dear Sleep, Soon Enough flows like the stream-of-consciousness diary of an insomniac, a man whose half-awake mind is burdened by the past and plagued by doubt about the future.
Album opener “You Woke Up” shows us to his front porch, by his side as he drinks his morning coffee and mulls over the Trinity. It’s a sleepy track with a spoken-word introduction: Someday I hope what I do will outweigh what I’ve done. If MilkDrop had a thesis for the album, this would be it. “Six Stars” is an image-rich window onto Milk’s mental interior, a place dominated by second-guessing. “Six Stars” is more of the morose same, though it’s lifted above brooding by a fine sax solo, a jolt out of this somber set’s lethargy. Then he’s back to a dreamscape with “Up to Me,” with its twinkling chimes and echo-chamber vocal.
By the time MilkDrop arrives at the finale, “September Sun,” with a few more woozy, moody sax notes, he seems at least to have begun a return to consciousness. He ends this song with a chilling spoken-word bit, telling us that he’s focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. As the album fades out, we’re left with his gentle murmur: Two more songs, not quite there yet. But he will be.
— Sonia Larbi-Aissa
Dom Chronicles
ATOMS
(Indyground)
It isn’t hard to figure out what Dom Chronicles is getting at with the title of his latest release, ATOMS — an acronym for Above the Ordinary Mind State. Opening track “Get Focused” is full of reefer references, and the slinking synths curl around raps like hazy ribbons of smoke. And when he’s not announcing his preference for blunts over Newports (“Tough Talk”), he’s full of swagger and self-hype: This flow is worth a million/This beat needs life insurance.
Beneath the bravado, ATOMS is the creation of a man with some hustle, with a vision for himself. His flow is steady and assured, at least when he’s rapping about weed and women. When he pushes past his ground-level ambitions of “conquering his territory” and getting famous, though, cracks appear. Case in point: “Don’t Trip,” with such lyrics as I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but every time I come back I get stronger. This feels like a truer glimpse of Dom, but he doesn’t allow time for you to examine him before he comes back with a faster rhyme and a tripworthy beat, covering himself in another layer of gloss.
The production on ATOMS is silky and lustrous, and Dom Chronicles’ flow throughout is crystalline and precise. If he could just embrace his uncertainty, he’d be fine company on a longer trip through that elevated mind space.
— Sonia Larbi-Aissa
Sneaky Creeps
Negative Space
(Self-released)
Sneaky Creeps’ new album starts off with “Living Beneath,” a grinding, pounding, high-energy garage number. And that is about as cheery as Negative Space gets. As the album progresses, there’s a strong undercurrent of sparse, spiky melodies, lending things a Joy Division–like flavor. On “Little Known Facts About Ostriches (Trivia),” minor chords and spare drumming reveal a tremor of despair, and “Hypnotist Convention” sags under the weight of downbeat ennui. “D.M.T.N.Y.” juices the tempo but doesn’t get much more optimistic; its title stands for “Don’t move to New York.”
Songs like “The Transitional” and “Skeleton Key” are emblematic of Negative Space‘s back half, which puts catchy bass and guitar work at odds with lead singer Andy Erdrich’s tortured warble and blasé lyrics. The raw, lo-fi production contributes to the album’s overall dark mood. In fact, one can’t help but think that, if things were cleaned up a bit, Sneaky Creeps would tip the scale toward upbeat pop. But positivity is likely this band’s silver bullet, and these Creeps do just fine keeping it dirty.
— Nick Spacek
