ALBUM REVIEW: Sophie Yera - Final Girl

Sophie Yera's Final Girl is a swirling, atmospheric alt-pop extravaganza that makes for a compelling debut.

Reviewed by Alex "Ash" Han

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, before reading this review, please support Sophie Yera and stream Final Girl! Sophie's Linktree contains links where you can stream the project on all platforms.

 

I WAS A STRANGER TO THE MUSIC of Sophie Yera until we crossed paths (albeit as strangers, at least at the time) in a listening session two or three semesters ago, in what was then called Collegium. It was there that Sophie's version of the Gnarls Barkley track "Crazy" first saw the light of day. As a listener at the time, I remembered being intrigued by the decision to open one's introduction to the MTech community with a cover song, but also being no less impressed by the radical restructuring of the track into a rendition that felt very much unique. I believe it was the following semester (or maybe the following academic year? Jesus, I'm getting old & my memory's slipping) when Sophie made her debut on the MTech Invasion stage at last November's Invasion 2.0, followed by a sequel appearance just last month at Invasion 3. On both occasions, she showcased a strong stage presence marked by a high-fashion aesthetic and a plaintive vocal style, accompanied by enticing glimpses into the material which today finds itself at the focus of this article. Sophie Yera's debut LP, Final Girl, comes three years after her 2021 4-song EP Bad Trip. At a compact seven tracks in length, the album was nonetheless accompanied by an impressive promotional effort, consisting of not only both Invasion performances but also a sizeable Instagram promo run that drew plenty of attention from inside MTech. Having remained mostly unfamiliar with Sophie's music outside of the limited exposure I'd had from sharing the stage with her at Invasion, I went into this project more intrigued than anything to see how her live stage presence would translate to the studio, and just what that would mean for how listeners would begin to perceive Sophie Yera as an artist.

The LP opens with "Crazy", a swirling, atmospheric reinterpretation of the 2006 Gnarls Barkley classic. Sophie brings an airy, disaffected vocal performance over luscious synth pads and a steady sub bass—definitely a heavy vibe switch from the original's spaghetti-Western string samples and dusty drum groove. The song's structure also appears to have been altered slightly, with an extra prechorus added near the beginning, introducing a steady four-on-the-floor kick drum augmented by some distant reverb. On first listen, I wasn't sure I was a fan of the slow burn restructuring of the track; I found that I missed the relentless, pounding momentum of the Gnarls Barkley original, and the vocals had a slightly telephonic, sibilant quality to them that I didn't love. Right before the track's chorus, though, there is a moment where Sophie's lead vocal trails off into nothing as the pads hang in the air a bit and the kick pulse fades away into a reverby soup—the track lets us breathe for just a second or two before the drums come crashing in and Sophie's distorted, keening belt roars into focus. The beat drop on this track goes super hard; I love the sound selection of the giant, cinematic pads and the pseudo-trap drums that harken back to the dusty, apocalyptic quality of the original song. Sophie's vocal sound is also really nice here, fed through a distorted amp sim that gives enough harshness and character to really advance the unhinged, off-the-rails nature of the performance without sacrificing too much intelligibility. This one chorus is all we get, however, as the track soon drops into its outro section, buoyed by an octave-shifted vocal that takes us down and out of the song. As much respect as I do have for the decision to open the album with a reinterpretation of a song that is as much of a timeless classic as this one is, I found Sophie's take on the song to be novel and tasteful, keeping the track's meteoric chorus and rapturous atmosphere while also radically reformatting its structure to accommodate the long buildup and cathartic drop into the chorus. I did feel as though the engineering on this track left a little to be desired—the mix feels a little hollow, with plenty of sub bass and an abundance of high-end frequency content, but without much in the way of low mids to fill the track out and give it a solid foundation. Nonetheless, the track does make for a strong opener, albeit one that left me curious to hear what Sophie's own writing would bring to the album's narrative & style on subsequent tracks.

A steady kick drum and distorted, trippy synth bass opens the album's second track, "Crystal Lake", which also features contributions from Space Hotel. Sophie contributes a number of stacked layers—a distant, legato series of backing vocals, a breezy, apathetic lead vocal, several almost-intelligible whispers that tease the listener with snatches of lyrics here and there. I was really struck by the sound design on this track, which combines retro, warm, slightly wobbly synth patches with punchy, modern, in-your-face drums to create a convincingly vintage horror-movie-like atmosphere. Sophie's delivery here reminds me of a cross between Elizabeth Fraser and Tate McRae, combining current post-Billie Eilish and Lizzy McAlpine airy whisper-vocals with an almost-shoegaze set of inflections that obscure and smear lyrics in favor of creating a cavernous, glassy soundscape. I found that I had trouble understanding a lot of the lyrics for this song, which likely meant the narrative of the track escaped my grasp somewhat, but this wasn't necessarily a point of contention with the track for me. Its approach to creating an atmosphere through sound design nevertheless left an impression with me, and provided an intriguing first glimpse into Sophie's artistic identity.

"Gone Girl" switches up the vibe again, opening with a woozy, washed-out minor acoustic guitar recording augmented with either static or the sound of distant rain. Soon enough, Sophie's trademark heavy kick pulse and ominous synthesizers enter alongside, providing the track with an instant increase in scale, propelling it to titanic, cinematic heights. Sophie delivers a deadpan first verse, discussing a breakup through a disaffected veil that belies a complicated emotional context underneath the surface. The track's next section sees her drift into a lilting, airy falsetto through a hefty dose of Autotune, giving her a robotic edge that I really enjoyed. The touches of reverby, tremolo-heavy electric guitar were a really nice touch that lent a distinctly James Bond sort of feel to the track's soundscape. The track's last verse, where Sophie's spoken deadpan and Autotuned head voice trade lines in tandem, felt like a solid way to end off the track. I nonetheless felt a little confused by this one, specifically in regards to its structure, or lack thereof; on first listen, I found myself having been fooled multiple times into thinking I was hearing a chorus, only to later realize that none of the sections I identified repeated or formed any sort of tangible hook. I suppose I respect Sophie's commitment to through-composed songwriting, but I think on a track like this, I would have preferred the lyrics to be a little more intelligible in order to understand the emotional arc a bit better. I still very much enjoyed Sophie's experimentation with regards to her vocal chain on this one, and her ability to create a swirling, dark soundscape remained as strong as ever.

Track 4 is called "Drew's Interlude", and opens with a true gut punch of a line ("I can't keep you safe from me"), which is perhaps one of my favorite lines on the album. The soundscape on this track is a little more superficially upbeat than on the tracks that preceded it, with plenty of sparkly synth chords and tinkly bells providing an interesting contrast to the song's firmly minor-key aesthetic. The subtle open hats, steady kick, and subdued clap samples lend the track a really strong groove, perhaps the most danceable on the album so far, drawing some sonic influence from The Weeknd and Dua Lipa's experimentation with the dark '80s/new wave aesthetic. The dynamic motion of the track is also maintained really well, with elements constantly dropping out and reappearing to create clear sections and movement. The bridge also sees one of my favorite vocal moments from Sophie on the album, as her vocal steadily builds towards plaintive, pleading high notes that sound excellent as she asks, "Am I the cause?" over and over. After listening a couple times, "Drew's Interlude" is a personal highlight from the album for me. The track's strong chorus, heartfelt lyricism, and danceable groove all merge together into a juggernaut pop song that made a very strong case for Sophie's unique talents as a songwriter and performer.

"This album is a reflection of my experiences of the past few years of college… Musically, I was inspired by Grimes, Lil Peep, Ethel Cain, and Gorillaz." –Sophie Yera

 

"Till Death Do Us Part" keeps the dance aesthetic going, opening with heavily-sidechained synth chords that articulate sweet seventh chords over a subdued, chill drum groove. Sophie's vocal layering came through especially nicely here, with some tight doubles reinforcing and bulking up the lead vocal without smearing over the lyrics too much; the overall styling reminded me a lot of MGMT and Empire of the Sun, an aesthetic Sophie pulls off remarkably well. The track's chorus is also really strong, with a slight switch in the chord progression providing us with a sense of forward movement to accompany the repetitions of "I think I'm free". The second verse also brings a handful of fun vocal moments, such as the literal pause for breath after the line "I feel like I can finally breathe", which put a smile on my face! "Till Death Do Us Part" was another favorite of mine, representing the album's continued shift towards a heavier dancepop aesthetic. The track's catchy melodies & sublime production together make a rather strong showcase that Sophie can hold her own as a dancepop artist as well as in the dark & atmospheric soundscapes that outlined much of the album's first half.

The album's penultimate track, "BLACKOUT", opens with a minor guitar line that very much reminds me of early 2000s post-grunge bands like Fuel and Puddle of Mudd, pairing a woozy, broken-chords pattern with a soaring, distorted lead. The pairing of the guitar line with the thick sub and flickering trap drums makes for a combo I actually really enjoyed, again calling back to The Weeknd's mid-2010s output. Sophie's octave-doubled vocal, paired with a distorted, pitch-shifted version of itself, creates a suitably demented atmosphere without reducing intelligibility too much. Her lyrics discuss the sensation of being too drunk after a night of clubbing, a subject she manages to portray in a uniquely slinky, menacing manner on account of the track's dark musicality and reverb-heavy percussion. With the track's catchy repeated chorus of "I can't feel anything at all" and strong verses combined with the grungy trap instrumental, this track is a definite vibe switch that nonetheless gels perfectly with Sophie's aesthetic. "BLACKOUT" was another definite standout track for me, and one that I'll definitely continue listening to down the road!

The album closes with its title track, which opens with a dramatic string orchestra and synth pads together in tandem as Sophie whispers distantly from the background. On first listen, I wish I could understand the whispered vocal a little better in order to get at the narrative of the album a little more. The synth pads support while at once ceding the spotlight to Sophie's theatrical vocal performance, as she meditates on every iteration of herself she's been through in order to reach this point. Like the opener, this track embraces a sort of slow burn aesthetic, staying in a stripped-back downtempo soundscape for much of the track's duration before bringing in some drums and upping the pulse in the track's outro section, which sees Sophie distantly belting out some sustained melodic lines in a way that almost reminds me a little of Pink Floyd's "The Great Gig in the Sky" off of The Dark Side of the Moon. Part of me does wish this outro soared a little bit more—I found myself really wishing for a greater sense of catharsis, whether that means more aggressive drums, a more beefy instrumental, a more freeing vocal performance from Sophie. As much as I do respect the decision to keep it a little more constrained and lowkey, I felt like it didn't fully deliver the sense of closure I wanted to really wrap up this album. All the same, though, maybe leaving it slightly open-ended is intentional, and serves a larger purpose I'm not fully seeing—so I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. Either way, this title track does an excellent job at stripping back the layers of persona progressively built up over the album in attempt to remind us of Sophie's very human vulnerabilities once more.

Looking back on Final Girl as a whole, I think it makes for a commendable debut project that does a lot to solidify Sophie's artistic identity. The moody, synthy, atmospheric production and detached, slightly deadpan vocal stylings over steady, resolute drum grooves paints a clear picture of the under-the-surface emotional turmoil that drove this album's creation. Indeed, Sophie's skill in using sound design and production to create vivid images is a potent strength of this project. The use of reverb in combination with dark synth patches creates a consistent vibe that matches much of the promotional material for this project—heavy with grays and blacks, the life & color squeezed from the landscape like the sickly pale of the recently departed. Sophie's vocal style descends from the school of Lorde, and more recently, Billie Eilish, embracing a similar teen Goth/alternative pop aesthetic in its detachment from explicit emotion. Additionally, as a writer of melodies, Sophie proves to be capable of penning catchy melodic shapes that do a consistently excellent job at hooking the listener's ear. In this way, Final Girl does a lot to highlight and showcase many of the artistic strengths that make Sophie Yera unique.

 

"The album explores themes of adolescence, love, friendship, and betrayal through the lens of the final girl archetype. I was really inspired by this trope found in horror films because I'm a cinephile." –Sophie Yera

I do have a couple points of contention with the project, though, some more nitpicky than others! I think that the project could have started and ended more strongly—the use of two slow burn-style tracks for both the opener and the closer was something that I felt robbed the album of some of the energy of its opening entrance and the closure & catharsis of its stage exit. I found that the vocal mixes on many of the tracks, especially the more atmospheric tracks ("Crystal Lake", "Gone Girl", the title track, and the opening half of "Crazy" most of all) had a tendency to lean towards being telephonic, sweeping out a ton of low-mid frequency information and accenting sibilant frequencies in a way that ended up making them slightly piercing. Under normal circumstances, this might not have impacted my enjoyment of the project too much, but the aforementioned vocal mixing decisions in synergy with the liberal use of reverb had the combined effect of smearing out Sophie's lyrics, rendering them quite difficult to understand on a lot of tracks. Try as I might across multiple listens, I was unable to discern what was being said at many moments throughout the project. As a result, I'm afraid that the higher themes and overarching narrative of this project mostly eluded me and remained beyond my understanding—which is a shame, since the stated premise of Final Girl being based upon the eponymous horror movie archetype is an intriguing one, and I wish I was able to delve further into Sophie's exploration of that idea. Of course, there are exceptions to this issue; "Till Death Do Us Part" and "BLACKOUT" especially were generally easy to follow, but this felt like too little material for me to draw sweeping conclusions about the themes of the project as a whole. (It's also likely no small coincidence that the three tracks I found most intelligible are likely my favorites from the album overall.) It pains me to say, but I feel as though I am still uncertain about what exactly Sophie's story is. While Sophie's showcase of her artistic aesthetic and sonic image is a very strong one, the resultant lack of insight into her songwriting and lyrics leaves something of a blank spot in the album's lasting impression—which is a part of this debut project I cannot ignore.

Still, though, there are a great many things this project does well. Maybe this is just me waxing nostalgic for a moment, but I actually found that it reminded me a lot of my own debut project in a lot of ways: rough around the edges in some areas, sure, but no less earnest & heartfelt in its illumination of what the path ahead might look for Sophie. The album's forays into uptempo dance on "Drew's Interlude" and "Till Death Do Us Part" were undoubtedly my favorite moments on the project, followed closely by the exploration of grungy pop-trap on "BLACKOUT"; all three tracks show very exciting glimpses into very catchy alt-pop territory that feels very her, and teases an artistic space that Sophie can well and truly make her own. I remain ever more excited to see what she brings us from here, and will wait eagerly to see which direction she chooses as she continues to forge her own path.

Personal enjoyment score: 7 out of 10

Standout tracks: "Crystal Lake", "Drew's Interlude", "Till Death Do Us Part", "BLACKOUT"

ALBUM REVIEW: P.H.0 - Karma

P.H.0's full-length debut, Karma, combines cyber-synthwave, black metal, drum & bass, and East Asian traditional music into a head-spinning, reality-warping fusion.

Reviewed by Alex "Ash" Han

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before reading this review, be sure to stream Karma via P.H.0's Linktree page!

 

FEW THINGS ARE AS EXCITING as an LP which fully commits itself to breaking genre barriers and challenging our preconceived notions of how to categorize music. In this regard, it's hard to think of a more striking example than P.H.0's debut album Karma, released at the tail end of last month. Though this album rollout took place at a bit of an inopportune time for me—mainly because I was getting steamrolled by a particularly brutal final exam period at the time—Karma has soundtracked much of the last three weeks for me, mostly on account of its insane depth and level of commitment to its crossgenre spirit. For me, this is an album which seems to throw me something new every time I put it on, with a seemingly-bottomless repository of details that speak to the amount of love & care that went into this thing.

Borne out of the collision of talents between five alumni of the MTech graduate program—producer Howard "Sen" Ouyang, drummer Pierre Zheyu Pi, guitarist Jun Guo, erhuist Danting "Chi-Chi" Qiao, and modular synth artist Minghim Tong—the eclecticism that defines P.H.0's work is evident just from the lineup. My first taste of P.H.0 came in the form of "Ascension", the lead single from Karma, which showcased an epic, larger-than-life collision between Mongolian morin khuur music, black metal, and breakcore. That song showcased a number of really compelling crossover points between the various artists in P.H.0's lineup, as "Ascension" threw us a ton of moments wherein everyone just seemed to click, their synergy propelling the song forward with an infectious and relentless sense of momentum. In short, hearing a lead single as interesting and driven as "Ascension" really got my hopes up going into Karma, and I found myself hoping that the whole LP would build on the wild eclecticism and impeccable pacing of their prior material. Suffice it to say that that expectation was definitively met, as Karma proved to be nothing less than a rollercoaster ride of mind-boggling proportions, pulling from a world's worth of different sounds to create a very compelling showcase of the artistic identity that makes P.H.0 who they are.

"To say Karma is a meticulously planned project is an absolute exaggeration, as it was initially intended to be an EP but quickly grew into a full-length album because we are an indecisive bunch with a strong tendency toward perfectionism, which can be excessively fastidious at times. However, despite resulting in a very intensive production and engineering process, that insistence on perfectionism is what made us very proud of the end product, and we are finally able to share with you our debut album: Karma." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

 

The LP opens with "Vanity", featuring a distant East Asian traditional sample replete with pentatonic woodwind melodies and tangu drumbeats before crashing into a black metal breakdown anchored in heavy guitars and huge acoustic drums. The momentum of the pounding drums lends the LP a very real sense of urgency and energy from the track's opening seconds, blasting out of the gates with a great degree of fanfare. Pierre and Jun combine to make for a very compelling introduction to the universe of P.H.0, combining hard-hitting drumming with thick, distorted metal riffs that jacks the energy up to 11. Minghim also makes an early appearance here, contributing little synthesizer notes and sound effects that flicker in and out of each ear, which add a nice bit of diversification to the rhythmic soundscape provided by Pierre's drums. Before long, we hit a huge curveball of a sudden tempo slowdown that seems ripe for headbanging, giving Minghim's wailing background synth textures and Jun's heavy guitar a moment to shine. Soon after, though, the tempo speeds back up to normal, and Jun throws us some clean arpeggiated guitar picking over tangu drums; Chi-Chi's erhu makes its first appearance here, its weeping, singsong timbre making for an excellent break from the heavy metal wall of sound textures that defined the track's first half. Chi-Chi's erhu playing is truly beautiful, lending the track a really nice expressive and contemplative edge that serves as a nice contrast with the track's more aggressive metal leanings. Chi-Chi maintains her posture as the lead performer throughout this second leg of the track, even as the background synths begin to swell and we collapse into a section backed by electronic drums and sidechained synth bass, serving as a detour into a sort of listing, darkwave-esque groove. I thought the sidechaining of Jun's distorted chords to the kick drum was really well done here, and gave this section a really nice sort of hybrid synthwave/metal vibe I really enjoyed. In short, "Vanity" feels excellent in terms of its pacing; no one section drags for too long, and the arrangement choices made in taking us from metal to erhu soloing to synthwave feel earned and natural. The journey-like experience of this track is excellent, and it does a wonderful job at capturing a meandering, winding path through many different musical territories that sets up the ground we're to cover in the rest of the LP very well.

"…the opening track 'Vanity' started over a year ago, even before the band was formed, as Howard’s experiment with the goal of integrating Beiguan, a traditional form of music that originated in northern Taiwan in the 17th century, with laser-like guitar riffs that aim to imitate the atonality and the articulation of the suona, a traditional Chinese wind instrument commonly used in Beiguan… Jun, bringing his post-rock influences, added an ambient guitar section filled with reverb washes, which inspired Howard to add an erhu solo on top of it as well as Pierre to follow up the post-rock section with a synthwave breakdown combined with Djent-like, palm-muted riffs and a lead part played with a real suona by our friend Tong, a professional Chinese flute and suona player based here in the city. What was originally a straightforward, mosh pit-friendly experimental metal track became an amalgamation of our musical experiences spanning across progressive metal, post-rock, synthwave, and traditional Chinese folk music." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

The LP's second track, "Shin (feat. Her Dark Heaven)", opens on a heavy, cinematic sweeping pad sound punctuated by little synth notes here and there. A distant vocal sample soon layers over the soundscape, asking, "where's the substance, the substance of the soul?", which I thought made for a nice meditative vibe. Jun plays a clean, Metallica-esque riff over a heavy, harmonically rich synthwave sub bass as the slowly-building synth arps and touches of Chi-Chi's faraway, reverb-soaked erhu build tension in the back. The track reads like something of an interlude to me, and though I'm not normally a fan of interludes appearing this early in the tracklist, the swell into the subsequent track "Yè" is amazing and works really well as a buildup within the context of the greater project's pacing.

"My life is split into two parts: during the day, I follow the rules, working along the L train between Bushwick and Chinatown. I present myself as the ideal image that my parents, who believe in the Chinese Communist dream, prefer. Every day, they remind me about my life in America—on the other side of the Earth—which they both hate and miss deeply.
At night, I tear off my stockings and immerse myself in the horror of the darkness, enjoying the collective nightmare of a surreal and bizarre humanity, as if the rules and suffering of the daytime no longer exist. I no longer remember how I clutched my visa and struggled to survive on this land, forgetting how people reminded me that different faces and voices were my sins.
At this moment, my music is my scream, it is the only language I have in my panic. It represents me, if you listen." –Danting Qiao a.k.a. Chi-Chi

Jun's riff from "Shin" continues and grows into "Yè (feat. Her Dark Heaven)", the third track on Karma. Heavy metal chugs punctuate the soundscape between shredded melodic passages on electric guitar, loosely echoed by Minghim's screaming synth textures in the background. Distant, almost-androgynous, light vocals enter during the verse, bringing a plaintive timbre alongside octave doubling and supremely catchy, soaring melodies. Vocalist Jack Doyle's vocal performance on the track is awesome, bringing a somewhat disaffected, numb-sounding emotional texture that nonetheless conveys a great deal of pathos, reminding me a bit of Julian Casablancas in the process. Amidst this titanic vocal chorus, we catch little atmospheric washes of erhu and occasional clean guitar chords poking through the soundscape, which I thought made for a really nice touch. The middle section brings a come-down moment where Jun's melodic guitar gradually builds layers on top of itself in polyphonic harmony before pulling back slightly to make room for Minghim's textural synth touches. The whole band feels utterly locked in on this track in particular, with each member seamlessly coming to the forefront at select moments and passing the spotlight around; Jun and Chi-Chi have excellent interplay as the two predominantly "lead" performers, if you will, backed by Minghim, Howard, and Pierre in equal measure. Nevertheless, the soundscape never threatens to overwhelm Jack, whose lead vocals anchor the track and provide a nice sense of pathos to play off of Chi-Chi's expressive erhu playing. In short, I thought the pacing of this track was particularly excellent, and the interplay between each member of P.H.0 was done really smartly as well. After an ending section featuring a half-time breakdown where the vocals return, the track ends and we fade out to the sound of static noise.

"The title track 'Yè' (or 'Karma' in English) and its overture 'Shin' are the only two tracks with vocals (huge props to our great friend Jack Doyle from Her Dark Heaven for contributing their angelic vocal!) that we wrote from scratch and later produced together as a group. 'Yé' started as two guitar parts written by Howard playing pentatonic scales to imitate traditional Chinese plucked string instruments, but what truly defined it was Jun's addition of an ambient guitar lead that set the tone of the track: ethereal, heavy, at times eerie, and most importantly, East Asian — and not in the Western, on-the-surface sense where we could simply add a gong at the beginning of every section or a sample of any traditional East Asian instrument on top of a heavy metal or EDM instrumental." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

"Jiva" begins with muffled, sub-heavy, pounding drum pattern, eventually becoming ornamented with additional shakers and percussion. Jun's guitar outlines a distorted, wailing melody in Phrygian dominant mode to introduce us to the harmonic soundscape of the track, setting the mood with a rather alien and desolate vibe. Chittering percussion and ambiguously tonal synth pads contribute to the growing apocalyptic mood of the track, before we hit a short vocoder break, followed by a tempo change that speeds us up and ratchets up the energy of the track. Electronic drums and heavy bass enter in full force, taking us into another synthwave/metal crossover section featuring octave-lead guitar and swelling synth arrangements. The vocoder returns, outlining a cacophony of speaking voices, talking over one another and becoming increasingly digitized in a really cool moment that evokes a sort of robotic symphony. "Jiva" feels like a sonic hurricane, a barrage of sounds that nonetheless remains tightly focused and evocative of some really cool sonic territory.

"The modular synth and the erhu production started later in the entire production pipeline, taking place mostly at Minghim’s studio apartment where he recorded and [engineered] the erhu by himself. Minghim’s addition of modular synth and additional production works also elevate the production value of the entire record, most notably on 'Jiva' and 'Wu Wuo': for example, the fragmented, modular chaos at the end of 'Jiva', which was made using Howard’s and his wife’s recitation of a poem from the game Cyberpunk 2077, and the thick, immersive layers of textures and pads under the erhu solo in 'Wu Wuo'." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

The LP's fifth track, "Mo", features drum & bass influences front and center, as we open on a distant, weeping string sample and an uptempo, sped-up breakbeat. Chi-Chi's pentatonic erhu melodies are once again utilized nicely over a huge sub bass and distant, wailing pads. Minghim hits us with a breakdown section augmented with stereoized downers and distant flashes of chopped-up erhu in a moment that I thought made for a really cool moment of calm before the storm. However, in true P.H.0 fashion, it isn't long before we return to the aesthetics of black metal & doom metal. Pierre brings us a rapidly-subdivded kick drum and a syncopated rhythm that synergizes well with Jun's heavy chugs. Soon, the rhythm section finds a steady, driving pulse, where Minghim gets the lead, articulating some cool, icy synth melodies over the top of Jun's wall of guitars. A really cool moment came during a 12/8 time switch, where a plucked string instrument enters the stereo field; I'm not totally certain, but I think the string instrument is a guzheng, which made for a super cool addition that feels right at home amidst the guitars somehow. I remained seriously wowed by the intersectionality of P.H.0's synthesis of traditional East Asian instruments within an electronic metal context, and I thought that the inclusion of the guzheng here was a really tastefully done example of this. Shortly thereafter, Chi-Chi gets an erhu solo where she truly shreds, playing some super impressive fast riffs over Jun's massive guitar backing. In keeping with P.H.0's signature sound, "Mo" is another track which feels like a journey from start to finish, with stops along the way in various musical landscapes which P.H.0 harnesses and makes their own.

"Maruya" is a shorter track, clocking in at just under two minutes, and opens on a distorted, warped, almost-vocal sample. Minghim's synth textures soon enter to provide a steady arpeggiated techno, acid-house bassline, augmented with pleasant dissonances and faraway flashes of percussion. The track maintains a dynamic and constantly shifting soundscape on account of the use of arrangement FX and moving filters, which I thought was really cool. Soon, we get a four-on-the-floor kick which steadily builds energy heading into a huge key change accompanied by icy, howling synth pads and a haunting, arrhythmic vocoder. The cinematic, sweeping energy of this track is truly awesome, and feels like a movie trailer-sized spin on the artistic leanings of artists like Kid Reno. The inclusion of this interlude-like track made for a nice moment of respite from the otherwise-breakneck pace that defines this LP, allowing the listener to take a breath and be quietly immersed in the heady, apocalyptic, cyberpunk world of Karma for a second, while also serving as a very compelling showcase of Minghim and Howard's talents.

"Wu Wuo" returns us to techno territory, kicking off with a steady kick pulse and warped, robotic vocal samples. The Kid Reno & Dog Collar parallels remained strong for me here, with the heavy, subby pulse of the drums reminding me a little of the Ecliptic collaboration track "jacuzzi" from Dog Collar's Jungle Fairy Tale EP last year. Flickering percussion breakbeats (maybe bongos?) pair with offbeat open hats to create an interesting cross-section of traditional music that nonetheless exists in firmly electronic territory. Soon, Jun's guitar comes crashing in, outlining an indisputably sick Phrygian riff that intertwines throughout Chi-Chi's erhu passages. The interplay between Chi-Chi and Jun is showcased really well here, I feel, with both getting plenty of chances to solo and flex their instrumental chops; in particular, Chi-Chi's rapid, nimble sixteenth note shreds made for a really cool addition. A spoken, 1950s radio play-esque vocal sample plays over a short break, proclaiming the forthcoming abolishment of worldly pleasures in a moment that furthers Karma's ominous vision of the future. Finally, there's a really cool halftime break in the last leg of the track where the guitar breaks off into syncopated chugs as Minghim's wailing synth textures take up residence in the background before the track's eventual end. On first listen, the dynamism that so often defines P.H.0's work for me felt less present here, and I felt less like I was being taken on a journey as compared to some of the other more rhapsodic endeavors in the tracklist, but as I've come back to this track more and more, it's slowly entrenched itself as being one of my favorites on the album. The apocalyptic soundscape of Karma is conveyed nowhere better than through the distant spoken proclamations, erhu shredding, pounding subs, and crashing metal riffs of "Wu Wuo", and the vibe of this track is nothing short of incredible.

"Bodhaka" is another short, interlude-style track that opens on soaring, dark-80s cyberwave synths before collapsing into a huge open fifths vocal sample that rides the line between organic and synthetic. Minghim's sound design really shines here, with a ton of cool evolving chord tones that incrementally fade in and out to keep the musical soundscape slowly yet resolutely moving forward. Around halfway through, the track enters a big switchup with a bunch of pseudo-vocal synth pads entering, accompanied by what sounds like a distant howl in the background. It's a really cool sound; I'm not sure whether its origins are organic or fully synthetic in nature, but either way, it makes for a really cool cinematic moment, a cloud-clearing rush that takes us into the LP's final act.

"While most drum parts were pre-programmed by Howard for demo purposes, Pierre, as the drummer of the band, was in charge of programming the drums, selecting kits, and perfecting the flow of the drums to make them sound realistic when they needed to. We used a mix of virtual drum instrument plugins by GetGood Drums and stock Ableton drum samples." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

"Genko", the penultimate track on Karma, opens with a pulsing, cybernetic D minor synth groove that rather reminded me of the soundtrack to Detroit: Become Human for some reason. A lead melody soon enters over the faraway, muted pulse of the kick drum, taking the form of an erhu sidechained in quarter notes, which I thought made for a really nice touch of extra dynamism, even amongst Chi-Chi's already very expressive playing. The Phrygian zither countermelodies sound excellent in context, once again showcasing P.H.0's ability to combine melodic textures from synthetic and Asian traditional soundscapes. The track hits with a huge beat drop that takes us into a synthwave drum pattern consisting of a steadily rising & falling hi-hat pattern over a reverbed, snappy snare drum and a solid kick. The momentum of this thing feels very unwavering and purposeful, evoking images like an android factory assembly line, metallic robot arms clanging in unison up and down the way. Eventually, we break into a clanging snare with trap hi-hat rolls over a detuned synth bass and distant claps that shake up the groove a little and take us into loosely cyberpunk-ish Eurobeat territory. I thought this little change in sound selection was really nice, and made for a continuation of the previously-established vibe while still throwing us enough new material to keep us entertained. There's a nice middle section where all the synth lines slowly become more noisy, distorted, and hi-passed, before we fall back into a heavy guitar-driven section. The tempo/meter switch into 5/4 time that happens here didn't quite feel totally natural to me, though it did make the eventual return to common time amidst Jun's syncopated chugs and Chi-Chi's soaring lead that much more satisfying, so I suppose it works as a structural element. "Genko" definitely feels like an ambitious piece of work, and I really appreciated its heavier lean into the cyberpunk aesthetic of P.H.0's work—the seamless evocation of dark, neon-lit skyscrapers under a desolate, gray sky thick with smog works excellently here, and I found myself pulled even more firmly into the world of P.H.0 for a second.

With that vivid image still fresh in my mind, returning to "Ascension" felt like coming home. This song had served as my introduction to the work of P.H.0 in the first place, and it served in that role in remarkable fashion, articulating a sharp, edgy, striking picture through a laser-focused artistic vision. The momentous, cinematic, morin khuur-laden buildup right from the start of the track hits that much harder now that it arrives at album's end, and the arrival of each element one by one—the soaring erhu, the fast-paced breakbeat, the growling sub bass, the chunky, jagged power chords—feels like each band member returning to the stage at the end of the show for one last hurrah, leaving everything out there once and for all. In short, it's a listening experience of epic proportions, and its inclusion here as the last track on the album was a fitting choice. Karma goes out much the same way it came in—as the final whisper of erhu fades away, Karma cements itself as an explosive whirlwind of sounds, sandblasting its way out of the gates, whistling & howling as it whips away amidst the current, leaving behind a windswept cityscape begging for more.

"What we want is to create something new using both Western and Eastern musical elements and based on the musical framework of the East and give these historically rich and now endangered musical instruments, techniques, and ideas the representation and the reinvigoration they deserve and desperately need. We aimed to capture the essence of East Asian music not by merely adding traditional instruments as superficial ornamentation but by reflecting our social, cultural, historical, and religious experiences living in various parts of East Asia, from Taiwan and China to Japan. This very much encompasses the core theme of this record: expand upon the more Western-dominated musical palette, make musical elements derived from Western music traditions serve the musical framework of the East instead of the other way around, and develop our unique musical language, which is authentic and truly East Asian. In that sense, P.H.0 is an 'experimental' band, serving as an experiment in flipping the power dynamic between the musical framework of the East and the current musical landscape dominated by Western music traditions." –Howard Ouyang a.k.a. Sen

 

Karma is an album that exists firmly entrenched in a crossroads of sorts; the various influences from heavy metal, drum and bass, synthwave, and East Asian folk music are combined and incorporated into each other in a tasteful and natural fashion to give rise to a fusion sound that truly belongs to P.H.0 in a way not many artists can claim. Each of the contributions of P.H.0's five members feel clear and distinct, pulling from a diverse selection of different lived experiences & musical backgrounds that nonetheless come together into a cogent & cohesive whole that feels far greater than the sum of its individual parts. For me, the album experience encapsulated a really poignant summation of my own experience as a product of the Asian-American diaspora. Maybe it's the album's ability to adapt familiar Western musical elements to a distinctly Eastern context that feels very evocative of my own longing to reconnect with a culture and heritage from which I have always been distanced; as a child, my own parents made an effort to make sure I assimilated into American life, and I did so successfully, but at the cost of my connections with my Chinese and Korean heritage. My own lack of immersion into my family's culture and inability to speak their languages permanently distances me from ever being truly accepted as being a part of that society and world, and perhaps it is for this reason that I found Karma so powerful. Language might be learned, but music is universal, and as such, this album has a unique ability to bridge the gap across which myself, as well as many others, including the members of P.H.0, exist.

 

In short, this LP is incredible, and hits very close to home. From start to finish, the intentionality of this LP remains its biggest selling point; despite the huge diversity in sounds from which the members of P.H.0 pull, they remain resolutely self-assured as they forge a new path into uncharted territory. The creative vision behind this LP is truly striking—the band's goal of recontextualizing Western sounds in an Eastern framework is compelling from the outset, but it was evident even from the very first listen that their conceptualization of the sound they want to be associated with is crystal clear. Not one single track on this album feels like a half-baked idea, or a loose figment of an ill-fated artistic experiment that never should have left the drawing board. The imagery elicited by this album was also extremely strong, and I found its creative vision to be exceptionally vivid and striking as a result; the conceptualization and execution of Howard's vision was achieved remarkably well on account of everyone's careful contributions, innovative sound design, and excellent management of their own soundscape. Aside from a few minor points of contention with the mix, which are likely stemming from my own personal preferences anyways, this LP is bulletproof. Karma is likely to be one of the most striking debuts I've heard in a long time, and I fully consider myself to be aboard the P.H.0 hype train now—wherever they take us next, I'm sure that both the destination and the journey will deliver something insightful, profound, and ascendant, and I await eagerly for them to take us there.

Personal enjoyment score: 10 out of 10

Standout tracks: "Vanity", "Yè (feat. Her Dark Heaven)", "Mo", "Wu Wuo", "Ascension"

ALBUM REVIEW: Jaden Tyler - Sadfish

Jaden Tyler's full-length debut project Sadfish is a romantic, earnest nostalgia trip that is nonetheless modern and cutting-edge in its production.

Reviewed by Ash

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, before reading this review, remember to stream the album and support Jaden Tyler! The album can be found on Spotify and Apple Music. Additionally, check out the music video for "Swimming Pool Thinking", attached here!

IT'S RARE THAT I ENCOUNTER a project that evokes such strong feelings of nostalgia as I found on Jaden Tyler's new LP, Sadfish, while also sounding very little like the music of the past. This project just dropped last Friday, and Jaden himself slid into my Instagram DMs to gently point me in its direction, thus marking my first exposure to the world of Jaden Tyler. Sadfish is Jaden's full-length debut, meshing influences from pop punk with synthpop and indietronica into a neon-flavored album that deals in heartbreak and love. Clocking in at a tight nine tracks and 28 minutes of runtime, I was excited to crack this LP open and see just what Jaden had to offer.

Pictured above: The man behind the madness, Jaden Tyler himself, performing live on the guitar.

Sadfish opens with "Zipline", a track that sees a straightforward, chunky pop-punk-meets-grunge guitar riff supported by an agile synth lead and dusty drums that ride a groove somewhere between power pop and dancehall. Apathetic, autotuned lead vocals enter soon after, showcasing a timbre that somehow reminds me of both 1980s pop rock and early 1990s grunge music, with a smooth yet detached delivery anchored in grunge melodies and chords. The vocal is really nicely engineered on this track, with the reverb swelling at choice moments that make the whole lead performance pop that much more. The vocal harmonies that come in during the second verse are really nice (though I do feel that they start fighting for space with the guitar a little) and do an excellent job preparing the listener for the track's climactic final section, when the drums slow down and Jaden delivers some gorgeous high sustains to close out the song.

"Common Ground" sees bitcrushed, retro pop drums find a home under hollow pad chords. Jaden's vocals are a little more raw here, which works quite well amongst this laid-back, quietly emotional soundscape; I did find the vocal performance to be a little shaky, especially when the melodies dip down below the lower third octave, but on the whole I think it works with this track's vulnerable vibe. The pre-chorus chord progression is really nice and manages to be thoroughly unpredictable without ever feeling unnatural. The chorus vocals and melodies actually remind me quite a bit of Ethan Crowley's music. After this, we get some strange tempo switches in the second verse that didn't quite gel with me; I didn't think they felt especially natural. Nonetheless, the harmony work in the second chorus is very nicely textured, and the ad-libs that surface between lines are a nice touch. The moments where Jaden pushes into his higher register definitely communicate the emotion of the song successfully, and the last chorus soars beautifully.

The third track, aptly titled "Track 3 Pop Song", opens with a slow build as watery chords and vocals enter over sparse, pseudo-trap percussion. The deep kick drum, punchy snare sample, and flickering hi-hats back autotuned backing vocals and smarmy, clever lyrics for a distinctly tongue-in-cheek character. The chorus melody is very catchy and conveys a sort of detached yet fun spirit that enables Jaden's performance to fit this track very well; this vocal performance in particular screams pop punk for me, a genre which Jaden slips into with remarkable ease. The production is super dynamic as well, with Jaden employing various filters and constantly shifting the sound selection as he adds and subtracts various elements in a way that manages to make the track feel like a steadily evolving pop experience. The mix does feel a little smeared, at least in my opinion, since there's a lot of reverb and some details get a little lost in the reverbrations, but that's not a huge complaint from my end, since I feel that the vibe of the track remained intact either way. Anyways, this track was a huge deviation from the previous two, but I found that it worked really well nonetheless and made for a thoroughly enjoyable listen. This track was a really fun deconstruction of pop music and I loved the listening experience it affords.

Complex polyrhythms split between syncopated drums and arpeggiated, soft synth melodies form the instrumental background for "Sparkle". Jaden's vocals are far back in the mix and soaked in reverb, which I actually really liked; the decision to push the vocals so far back in the mix gave the track a spacious and somewhat lonely vibe I thought worked quite well. Nonetheless, Jaden remains remarkably intelligible despite sounding so far away. The guitar solo at the end of the track is quite well-performed, conveying a bombastic '80s flair dripping with pathos.

Pop punk chords, panning synth arpeggios, and cavernous drums open the following track, "Without You". The slow build and understated presentation combine with Jaden's heartfelt lyrics and vocal performance to successfully convey the post-heartbreak sense of emptiness accompanied with the cautious optimism that follows. The guitar tones are really nice on this track; I really dig the use of chorus and reverb, which results in a tastefully watery pop rock guitar tone that doesn't feel overprocessed. Jaden manages the dynamism of his production quite well, often changing out plugins and employing tasteful automation; in a further showcase of this, the distortion kicking onto the lead vocals at the end of the last chorus is a really nice touch, as are the variously processed vocal snippets that close out the track.

"Swimming Pool Thinking", the lead single from the album, opens with a sweet vocoder section, which is always a good way to gain my favor. Distorted 808 bass and trap drums kick in with the first verse. The cavernous, distorted guitar power chords in the prechorus are a really nice, pad-like cinematic texture. The production on this track is truly immaculate, though the chorus on this track admittedly isn't my favorite. This could also just be my ears and brain hearing things that aren't there, but it sounds to me like the pitch correction on the vocal is slightly out of tune with the rest of the track during the second verse specifically, which really pulled me out of the experience for a second. Nonetheless, this track boasts strong production and infectious energy, and I can certainly see why Jaden might have picked it as the lead single.

"Thank You for Making It This Far" follows, marking a bit of a slowdown from the previous track's breakneck pace and frenetic energy. A crushed, spacey vocal performance floats over major key guitar riffs to give this track a relaxed, introspective atmosphere. To my surprise, the track goes fully instrumental after a short verse, which was a decision I ended up really loving. The instrumental breaks showcase some really well-assembled, tasteful production that leans towards chill, relaxed techno in the vein of Tchami and Mall Grab. The soft piano rolls and fuzzy drums are nicely complemented by washes of synths while keeping the whole soundscape relatively sparse and not overproduced in the slightest: a decision which I thought paired perfectly with this track's title, that almost reads like it's addressed directly to the listener. As someone who generally isn't the biggest fan of interludes and interlude-like tracks on albums, I found myself really loving this one, and Jaden's production really brings it home for me.

On "Maybe I Will", the second single from the album, 8-bit video game synths and staticky trap drums create a chill atmosphere before the anthemic chorus comes crashing in. The chorus melody here is one of the album's best and is genuinely extremely catchy; Jaden showcases a fast-paced flow rendered through a hard-hitting earworm of a melody backed with Owl City-esque synth lines and chugging pop drums. The use of the vocoder to provide harmonies is also a great decision that lends the track a lot of texture. I catch some pop-adjacent glitchcore influences, especially in the huge breakdown at the end where the whole track degenerates into glitchy synth phrases. I loved this track overall; the chorus absolutely soars and I love the sense of energy and momentum it conveys, which for me, served mostly to cement Jaden as a very capable songwriter.

"Burning" emerges from the figurative rubble left by the violent dissassembly at the end of the previous track, as a simple, round synth bass and echoing textures form a cinematic buildup to the entrance of the first verse, which features Jaden's vocals at their rawest yet, leaving only his signature autotune. His vibrato is really great on this track and lends the song a lot of emotion. The backing harmonies are truly lovely on this track, and they're processed in a way that creates a thoroughly enveloping and immersive atmosphere; it feels like I'm floating amongst the numerous layered voices. The second verse sees Jaden become more distant and digitized, like singing through an old radio slathered in Autotune. After the harmonies enter once more during a short break, the song soon fades out and the album ends. I guess it could be argued that it wasn't needed, but I found myself waiting for a third verse and a climactic moment where the track could really explode and soar.The fact that we didn't get such a climax left me wanting a little more at the end of this record, though perhaps that was intentional.

Overall, Sadfish was a project that felt very nostalgic for me all the way through. It's not that it sounds overtly 1980s in its presentation, because it doesn't, but Jaden nonetheless managed to capture something really poignant that I struggle to articulate. Maybe it's the combination of old analog synth sounds put through late-2000's synthpop melodies and RC-20 RetroColor-like vinyl noise that give it that nostalgic feeling for me; it's like a strange marriage between the time period the public zeitgeist seems to be nostalgic for (the '80s) and the time period during which I grew up (the late '00s/early '10s), and it somehow totally works. The soundscape of this album is certainly unique; it has a distinctly retro, neon flair, like a snapshot of the now-distant 1980s viewed through nostalgia glasses and soaked in vinyl crackle. In that sense, Sadfish rather successfully captures the mystic romanticism surrounding the decades that had long since ended by the time all of us were born. My point in saying all this is that for me, that soundscape elicits a consistent feeling of yearning for something more, of wanting something long since lost to time, which suits the album's themes of heartbreak and unrequited love rather well, and really adds to the overall emotional experience for me. Maybe that's my own personal takeaway, and maybe that's not something that every listener will experience, but at least for me, Sadfish struck a chord very close to home, and it resonated with me in a way not many projects do.

I suppose if I had to offer constructive feedback (which I do; it's my job, after all), I'd venture to say that I wish the album featured more clear hooks. Songs like "Track 3 Pop Song" and "Maybe I Will" prove that Jaden can absolutely write really good choruses, and I find myself wishing that he'd flexed that muscle a little more. Having said that, I also loved some of the less overtly pop efforts on this record, most notably "Thank You for Making It This Far", which is not and never will be a pop song, so maybe all I'm saying is that I just wanted more tracks out of this project. Jaden's vocals are also sometimes a tad shaky in my opinion. Nonetheless, his laconic and disaffected style does suit these chill instrumentals very well, and he generally holds his own as a vocalist quite well across this project. The production remains a consistent strength, and Jaden successfully captures the emotion of these songs and conveys it in a tight, nine-track package that held my full attention all throughout. Jaden Tyler is poised for an exciting musical journey through MTech and I hope that the next time we hear from him, it's with a project just as creatively driven and emotionally rich as this one was.

Personal enjoyment score: 9 out of 10

Standout tracks: "Common Ground", "Track 3 Pop Song", "Thank You for Making It This Far", "Maybe I Will"