#nocturne girl we're getting you out of the cult

[alexkablob]

Me, coming up with baldurgate fic ideas in the group chat: if Mr. Larian wanted me to come up with the soft fluff kind of trans emotions instead of the The Horrors™ kind of trans emotions then he shouldn't have put the canon trans character in an R-rated version of the Catra-Adora-Shadow Weaver dynamic

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'Slugs of Love' - Little Dragon

Welcome. Little Dragon are gonna whistle a little melody for you. And it goes a little something like this... 

Clocking up over 15 years together as a band, the Swedish quartet have consistently delivered off-kilter yet soulful electro-pop, often from within the intimate confines of their Gothenburg studio. 

After settling into a comfortable kind of groove on their past couple of albums, the band finally get a little more experimental, letting their freak flags fly on seventh album, Slugs of Love.  

‘We’ve been exploring different ways to collaborate and communicate,’ frontwoman Yukimi Nagano tells Stereogum. ‘Dissolving patterns and making new ones. Nurturing our ability to curiously press down keys, to bang — sometimes hard sometimes gently — on different things, strumming strings, recording sounds and investigating the limits for how much or little a sound can be tweaked… Together, we have developed, replayed, danced to, cried, and laughed to this music as it has evolved forwards, backwards, sideways, and all around, but now finally as a complete masterpiece… This feels like our finest work yet. We are very proud.’   

Unlike 2017’s Season High or the colourful boldness of New Me, Same Us, Slugs of Love is quite an insular record despite the kooky title, more indebted to the jazzy and nocturnal as the band turn slick nu-disco into something cool and contemplative, moving in small, considered steps rather than full-on busting a move.  

‘Dear legends, you've been brave/This soul needs to be saved/My God, my God/I'm a neurotic mеss,’ Nagano intones on moody opener ‘Amöban,’ a smooth, seductive slice of neo-jazz that recalls the sultrier takes on 2014’s stellar Nabuma Rubberband, evoking the feel of a ghostly Stockholm winter. It’s rather revealing of the band’s creative processes, fraught with insecurity and self-doubt even after almost two decades of cult success and critical acclaim. ‘Frisco,’ meanwhile, is rubbery, jagged and hypnotic, replete with longing. ‘I never wanted to leave this behind/Chasing a dream always comes with a price,’ Nagano admits, still plagued by creative anxieties.  

And yet, the rest of the record proves a lot more optimistic, whimsical even as Nagano finds herself in a rather romantic state of mind. 

The dreamy, Eastern-tinged ‘Stay’ has the vocalist swooning over bouncy, synthetic bass, assuring ‘We're gonna be just fine, baby/No matter how it roll/Or how the endin' go/Leave your armour behind, baby’ while drifting further into a boundless night. ‘Gold’ is a glittering standout, groaning with subterranean bass and sleek with stylish synths, interpolating Whitney Houston’s ‘Million Dollar Bill.’ On ‘Disco Dangerous,’ she’s a ‘junkie for the rush,’ exchanging shy glances across the dancefloor; twinkling, pulsating and unashamedly girlish. Even when a friendship is crumbling on ‘Kenneth,’ Nagano tries to look on the bright side (‘Bitter spells/Bitter rain/Never last/Always pass’). 

Things take a thrilling left turn of the title track, more ‘Whip It’ than ‘Let It Whip’ with its angular bass and New Wave-powered urgency, along with some beautiful floating sax riffs, providing a magical backdrop to Nagano’s languid musings on post-lockdown romance and hedonism. 

Occasional stumbles, however, can pull you out of Slugs of Love’s gauzy reverie. Damon Albarn’s appearance is wasted on the six-minute space epic ‘Glow,’ starting off as a soulful experience of   before listlessly drifting off into the void, inevitably losing steam, proving a rather weak facsimile of its celestial predecessor, ‘Empire Ants’ from Gorillaz’s 2010 album Plastic Beach. 

The album, however, rebounds nicely with sweet finale, ‘Easy Falling,’ an electro-folk lullaby swooning with retro girl group tones that has an eager Nagano running back in the direction of love, a soft, summery burst of nostalgia borne out of the bitter darkness of the Swedish chill.  

Slugs of Love is not the most dynamic disco pop record. But it is stylishly produced and there’s a lot to love about its loose, sleek and minimalist grooves. It might not meet Nagano’s lofty descriptions of a ‘masterpiece,’ but it still proves rather mesmerising, reminding us of the beauty in simplicity in a world mostly indebted to extravagance and excess. 

- Bianca B.