By It’s our Bandcamp Picks of the Week, featuring Bulgarelli’s math pop quest FAT ANIMALS and Rachel Baiman’s songwriting showcase COMMON NATION OF SORROW!
Bulgarelli – FAT ANIMALS
Genre: Midwest Emo, Math Rock
Favorite Tracks: “Santander,” “Ocean Documentaries,” “Club 33”
It’s exciting to see passionate, emo-laden math pop emerge from Northern Italy. Spirited gratitude soars across the globe, no matter the location. Bulgarelli are a group of friends from Bologna who started playing together in 2017, following a hot summer day drinking beer in a public park. They grew up together near the sea, so if you envision the stunning sights of Bologna’s beaches, their music sounds even more spectacular.
Notions of friendship shine through their sunny indie rock debut album, FAT ANIMALS. These lively songs beam with the same warmth as American Football’s self-titled EP. The result is a magical and quintessential summer record. Opener “Dallas (A Wave)” bounces with jubilant math rock harmonies, “Ocean Documentaries” more so with its ascending plucks and screamy wails about searching for the truth. “Club 33” is notably poignant—its jangly crescendos gracefully peter out like the sunset does. It’s a heart-on-your-sleeve plea to keep your friends close. Speaking of, it seems like everyone involved with the album’s creation holds a precious spot in Bulgarelli’s lives—even the title, FAT ANIMALS, is taken from the band’s first song they ever wrote. The credits conclude with the mission statement: “Love your friends, involve them in your art.” During the joyous half-hour that FAT ANIMALS runs for, I feel so very lucky for and indebted to the friends that care about me. That is an endlessly comfortable feeling. Vinyl and cassette copies are set to arrive very soon, so do yourself a favor and pick up a copy once they release. You can check out Bulgarelli’s glowing debut over on Bandcamp. [Dom Lepore]
Rachel Baiman – COMMON NATION OF SORROW
Genre: Folk, Americana
Favorite Tracks: “Self Made Man,” “Bitter,” “Bad Debt”
Americana is a term typically thrown around to describe artists that just aren’t “country” enough for the mainstream, often due to mixing the aforementioned genre with the likes of folk, blues, and rock music. Like any good descriptor, Americana had a brief, semi-tangible identity before critics began using it to differentiate between good and bad country music. So it is that the likes of Sierra Ferrell, Jason Isbell, and Allison Russell all fall under the same genre despite how disparate their artistic output is. By most metrics, Rachel Baiman would also be classified under this tattered umbrella term (in part given her status as a talented multi-instrumentalist who doesn’t play traditional bluegrass standards). Yet on COMMON NATION OF SORROW, Baiman lets her true colors unfurl with an honest-to-god folk album, one which not only reflects the genre’s communal origins thanks to its simple compositional arrangements, but also its political sympathies by putting the lyrical focus on tales of suffering and oppression.
Though audiophiles might bemoan the lack of polish on Baiman’s latest LP, the raw, stripped-down recording (complete with hissing analog tape and studio chatter) helps put emphasis on the storytelling. This approach might not always seem necessary—consider how obvious the message of “Self Made Man” is—but in an age where media literacy is at a 100-year low, it’s an effective decision, and one which enriches Baiman’s poetry. Songs like “Bitter” are enlivened by Baiman’s weathered twang and make lines like “But I found no meaning / Nothing to believe in / Just men getting rich in the shade” a genuine kick in the gut. Elsewhere, the singer channels her inner Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger on “Some Strange Notion,” offering a song of hope and unity against the strife caused by the leeches who run the world.
While not every tune on COMMON NATION OF SORROW is as pointed as the opening number or “Self Made Man,” the record still shows how the political state affects our daily lives in small ways. “Annie” offers the perspective of a young girl who becomes “Weighted by the things [she] could never un-know” when she tunes into an adult conversation that leaves Annie in tears. The downbeat waltz “Bad Debt” relates how the smallest indulgences can lead us down a slippery slope that will chain us to the lowest rungs of society. Album closer “Ways of the World” acts as a companion piece to “Annie” sharing how, even though “the ways of the world” will break her daughter down, the narrator will always try to shield her with love.
COMMON NATION OF SORROW isn’t a traditional protest album. There’s a punkish sensibility throughout and clear critiques of the establishment, but it isn’t the most fervent call to action (much to the chagrin of Tankies). Baiman’s music acts more as a mirror to society in the hopes that the ghastly reflection will cause people to band together. It’s this focus and her earnest intentions which mark her as a clear descendant to the likes of folk icons such as Seeger, Guthrie, and Phil Ochs. If you haven’t already, check the album out on Bandcamp. [Connor Shelton]
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