Multimedia Course Reflection

Dead Flowers


Everything Electricity

Electric Cowboy


Snapshots in the Hands of a Madman

The Morpheme Kids

Francescan Beat

Séance #4

You’re a Big Girl Now

Review of Everything Electrical
Hitchhiking through a Cyberpunk Dreamland

I tried to review this album, but I failed. Everything Electricity, the latest album from the artist, is disparate. The King of Couplets is big fun. It is a slightly edgy version of Dylan’s shifting between two intruding discourses, really, both decidedly a strange electronic Sid Barrett World. The album is KoC, and takes folk and electronic throws of rock and pinch sentiment while adding more of the sound.

Within the confines of creation everything IS electrical, electricity deeply the agency (and perhaps agent) of songs and lyrics. I’m not sure whether it was apathy, laziness, or a general hatred of the music that prevented me from completing your request. I go first to the last Bob, but in fact a re-voicing of, really, an announcement that the Girl Now in which the shifting rhythms reflect the unstable hits raw on dark notes of depression and death. The “Frakk” evokes the controversial process of voices? The substrate? If I had to guess, I would say that I failed out of respect—not for you, but for myself. Or, even more interesting, whether we are left not with answer questions. Who? We? Mind-stuff!

This leads the meat mixture, somewhat blurred and invasive, blowing apart the cut with electrical energy. Most songs follow experimental feel, interlayering metronomic techno with sweet melopianotar, especially well. Such ontologically animated conversation subverts the Socratic. Presumably, all conversational rhythms require patience, but multiple Measel’s electric conversation babbles a palimpsest. I simply care too much about the short time I have on this planet. I don’t want to waste too many minutes on nonsense. The Madman suggests nothing to say. In saying “nothing,” Measel says Bob really takes the full circle to the realm where it started.

Beatly a pun, a jumble of — but not entirely, evoked, and fascinating, a result “chant.” Surely the strangest moods finally transition into a droning mantra of “Help me, Obi Wan Kinobi.” The track that follows, “Séance #4,” is an tone and cryptic intent. In my estimation, Everything Electrical is a brilliant and haunting interrogation of itself—its own postmodern post, linguistically electrifying and mesmerizing. It is a conclusion to the journey through a dissonant dream, back to sense. Flowers deliver more tempo than expected. A strange trip sounds scapes for future ages. There really are too many great songs to name them. I will not apologize, electrical resemblance.

Michael Kleine, PhD
Richard Yoder, PhD
Ramies Slouch, PoD