In their new single, Galaxy Lodge remain adept weavers of melancholia spun against a nifty, head-bobbing backbeat.
I’ve been nothing but glowing in my estimation of Galaxy Lodge. They’re brilliant recordists and arrangers, and that’s something we can easily agree on without breaking beer bottles and calling each other names.
But, yes, I know: People don’t really consume music this way – studio geekery and musical ephemera; not bottle-breaking or insult-hurling – and that’s just something I have to live with (LOL).
Seriously, though.
What matters is how songs conjure emotional truths through an undeniable marriage of form (the pop song) and content (the often-obfuscated backstory). And Galaxy Lodge are like modern Pinoy Moz-heads in this regard: adept weavers of melancholia spun against a nifty, head-bobbing backbeat.
I’m happy to say that contradiction remains at play in their newest single – “Crash and Burn” – but in lieu of heartbreak-vs.-banging-cadence, we get pent-up commentary-vs.-clubby-abandon.
In a pre-release Q&A, the band says the song began as a critique of echo chambers. But as rehearsals wore on, it picked up a thicker accent: the cheery rise of Philippine populism, demagogues tossing out rhetoric like confetti, and, for good measure, a doomsday preacher whose skeletons refused to stay politely in the cupboard.
(They’re being blasé about it all, and I respect that, but I’m sure you know which dogs they’re alluding to. I’ll throw you an easy bone: they’re both in jail.)
Soon the band were sketching what they wryly describe as a “house of cards” imploding: checks and balances dissolving into farce, tyranny cosplaying as democracy. What started as a casual run-through, in short, became a bleak little morality play with better hooks than most sermons.
And what a shift in tenor, too. While their previous singles sported a sadcore-shoegaze veneer – “Kiss This Goodbye” and “Dirty Couch” – “Crash and Burn” has an unrelenting postpunk immediacy in the manner of Gang of Four, Minutemen, and Franz Ferdinand.
While it’s true that “Crash and Burn” has a propulsion that sets it apart from in their last few singles, they say the track still “captures what we’ve been trying to sound like live.” You can hear similar strains of that guitar jangle and that melodious bubble, but with a denseness in layering that tells us how much the band has coalesced into a more cohesive creative unit.
The single, as has always been the band’s wont – and on this song specifically, care of singer-guitarist Emer Lacandazo and guitarist Mikhail Enver Requilman – has always had a biting quality to the lyricism. That tact has worked wonderfully on tunes like “Kiss This Goodbye,” with its poetic waxing on mortality; “Studies for the Sky” with its sleep-deprived rhapsody; and “Dirty Couch,” with its COVID-triggered end-of-times ode.
But while I appreciate all of that – I mean, “obtuse” is kind of my middle name – there is perhaps virtue in resorting to plain-speak when it comes to social commentary, intentional or not. That said, the band says the words to the tune are simply “a natural human reading of what’s around you.”
What I’m always thrilled about, however – and that remains true here – is the music. The band doesn’t let up in this number, and they’ve got a newfound swagger that I wouldn’t mind hearing from here on out. Worth noting, of course, is drummer and beat wizard Leone Requilman spearheading the production, as well as Paper Satellites’ Paul Carpio on bass detail.
The interplay between guitarists Mikhail Enver Requilman and Emer Lacandazo is understated but tasteful, and while Emer isn’t the foremost poster boy for critique – there is an affectation I couldn’t put my finger on that makes the spot-on sentiments of “Crash and Burn” punch light – his conviction remains infectious.
Do yourselves a favor and spin “Crash and Burn” on this cold and damp day. It will jolt the shit out of your lazy long-weekend ass.