There’s never any rhyme or reason why someone may do something and I’m hard-pressed attempting to figure out what J Spaceman (Jason Pierce of Spiritualized) and John Coxon (Spring Heel Jack) were attempting to create here Music For William Eggleston’s Stranded In Canton. Both are known for their respective works and while I initially thought this was going to be more of an atmospheric/experimental release by the sound of the title track, it’s actually their rendition of the soundtrack for photographer William Eggleston’s 1974 film “Stranded In Canton.” It’s filled with bluesy vocal samples strewn across the bluesy backdrop of each song. There’s a definitive kinship for the genre both Spaceman and Coxon have for it, performing loosely and capturing its essence. Yes, everything is done well without forcing it. I can only imagine this is probably what Jon Spencer would want to do in his retirement years. Yeah, this is a perfect ode to the blues.

HEMLOCK ERNST/ICKY REELS – STUDYING ABSENCE

Juxtapositions. Sometimes they make the most sense when life throws an unexpected curve that shouldn’t work but does. Think of an expected surprise; we knew something was going to happen but maybe not to the extent that it’s made such a profound effect. Both Hemlock Ernst and Icky Reels conduct their artistry with unequivocal distinction. Hemlock – one Sam T. Herring of the synth-pop outfit Future Islands – uses his alter ego here as another conduit for his creativity. The New York/Cleveland producer/songwriter Icky Reels alone is a force to be reckoned with. 2021’s Plips, was an exploration of sound looping around senses and now both artists find solace in one another’s work for Studying Absence (Tygr Rawwk).

Through the duo’s new album, it’s obvious there are boundaries both haven’t found yet. Ok, we’ve gotten a bit ahead of ourselves but it’s safe to say as an emcee, Herring does shake off any doubts of his ability to cross genres with his clever wordplay and inflections. His voice floats across icky Reels’ beats, which are sometimes nonsensical in their construction but seem to make sense in the end. “Raised In The South” has an insanely constructed backdrop with Hemlock fitting his words accordingly where needed. Somehow the scattershot beats make sense within that framework. The 7-and-a-half-minute+ “Break Time In The Factory” is two songs in one, starting off with rhythm and instrument play that would make Prince proud, with a less-is-more aesthetic that works to their benefit along with Hemlock Ernst’s sparse vocals for just over the first two minutes of the song. That’s right before he rips into it with quick-tongued precision. The second half of the composition couldn’t be any more different from the first half. Driven by a thick beat, keys, and what sounds like a xylophone/vibraphone at times, it’s filled with Hemlock’s inventive prose like, “What’s the point of your posturing, man’s driven by apostrophes” and “The product of tears / they’re selling you fear.”  

But let’s move forward, forward to darkly hued “Old Dead Dogs,” where Hemlock wraps his words around a variety of subjects but seems to begin and end with blood of some sort, painfully procured. Anti Pop Consortium’s BEANS presence here couldn’t be more apropos, as his words accentuate Hemlock’s, but wait! That’s not all! No sooner does BEANS exit that Faitboi Sharif’s slow drawling delivery rounds out the trifecta of odd imagery? As different as it may seem, it fits in well alongside Icky Reels’ enthralling beat and melodic background. The track flows, not in a verse-chorus-verse sense but in a much more hypnotizing manner, never letting up. As we head over to “Remains,” we find one of the more mesmerizing tracks here as the bouncing beat pauses in between verses three different times, breaking up the rhythm that is layered with vocal samples. But wait! There’s more! Euclid makes a guest appearance here trading verses with Hemlock Ernst. It’s an early morning banger.

If there was ever a record that stood apart from any other, it’s probably Studying Absence, which is challenging and takes countless chances within the makeup of its songs. To piggyback off of what I let out the bag earlier, it seems they’re just brushing against the surface of what they can do, but what they’ve created here already, is fascinating.  

PHANTOGRAM – MEMORY OF A DAY

It’s obscene. The fact that there are only a handful of releases for a group that’s had some interesting releases, powerful even, but then again, when I take a look at others, they haven’t released many either. We simply know of them whether or not they release material. I digress away from whatever the f*ck I was trying to convey here.

Oh, that’s right, in the past 14 years the electronic outfit Phantogram, the duo made up of multi-instrumentalists and vocalists Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter (Barthel taking up much of the lead duties), hasn’t released many albums. Its new Memory Of A Day (Neon Gold Records) is just the group’s fifth long-player, but Phantogram does have around six EP releases, and that’s not counting its cleverly named Big Grams side project with Outkast’s Big Boi. While that one-off EP marks its only release, the trio honestly needs to reconsider and release more material (Seriously, who can we talk to?). Again, I digress. With the group’s latest, you might find yourself all over the place, trying to decide which song is your favorite. It’s not that difficult because “Feedback Invisible,” with its rich percussion, delivers a well-placed beat accentuated by its rich bassline right before Carter’s thick voice meshes with Berthel’s silky delivery. The song itself cross-pollinates into more than one genre, moving from electronic to Hip-Hop and back in the blink of an eye. Please note, Phantogram is not your typical electronic act, usually running its influences & styles through a kaleidoscope with hard edges, akin to heavy pop/rock but never confining itself to one thing as I motioned earlier. With washes of electronic instrumentation, “Attaway” moves into sonically charged terrain as the duo plays with dynamics. The melody is enticing, and keyboards are underscored by the walls of guitar. But it’s those dynamics that will reel you in again and again.

Phantogram has the ability of a chameleon to morph into anything it wants to be or try to accomplish. Just listen to the dance groove within the confines of “Running Though Colors,” as that bottom end does a pretty good job of allowing Barthel’s voice to float over everything around.” There are layers here, of keyboards, guitars, percussion, drums, you name it. Everything meshes to perfection. But speaking of floating, the ethereal “Ashes,” while it doesn’t dictate which direction Barthel’s voice goes, it does a good job of pointing where it should. The track crashes, crescendos, and defies gravity. The buoyancy of her vocals is uncanny here. There’s difficulty trying to find the best song within the collection of 12 tracks here but the closing title track, which is different from most everything else here, with low-key shoegaze elements. A wash of guitar/keyboard(?) in the background moving at a mid-tempo pace as Carter takes the reins here vocally while Barthel latches onto the hook and chorus. One thing that should be noted is that fucking brush stroke over the snare. You might find yourself moving to its rhythm in the end. It’s a beautiful song that has no comparison in 2024.

If Memory Of A Day doesn’t leave you awestruck, then you haven’t been listening. Phantogram has to ability to throw a variety of elements together for its compositions, mixing and matching, finding what will go well together. It’s flawless, the album that is. There’s never a lull within its confines and at this point, Phantogram has probably created the best record of the year, hands down.