I love reading embedded critiques of “hipsters” and this so-called movement you can’t avoid if you’re 20-something and in a major North American city. (For the record, I’m not discrediting the rest of the world, I’m just admitting solidarity with Portland, OR.) Hipsters have been called nihilists, shamelessly turning inward and backward and not creating anything new. I would like to argue with and support this at the same time by pointing out that the music hipsters love, Independant Rock, is doing something magnificently new! They’re writing love song after love song set during or after the apocalypse!

That’s kind of twisted, isn’t it? It seems like I might be exaggerating a little, doesn’t it? Well, I’m hardly an expert, but here are a few for the record. (Please feel free to link me to more examples or arguments in the comments, I do believe that’s what they’re for.)

I had to include the Postal Service to prove to you that it’s not just the Canadians falling in love with the apocalypse like this.

So what do we call this syndrome? Apocophilia? Erotipocalypse? Armageddiniton?

..I’m sorry for that last one, I had to. Any other suggestions?

“Can’t talk! This little robot needs my help!”

This was the most enjoyable gaming experience I’ve had in years. I used to be a terrible puzzle game addict, but somewhere in there I was introduced to RPGs of the Squaresoft variety and I required much grander narratives to keep me playing. Now that I haven’t had time to play anything for more than five or six hours I find myself once again dreaming of the episodic pacing  and opportunity for adorable/intriguing/funny design that is the hallmark of the puzzle game genre. At exactly the right time, a friend made me sit down in the middle of dinner and give Machinarium a try.

The most obvious thing about this game is the art. The world is rich, immersive, animated, adorable and entirely self-consistent. At no point do you stare at it and say “wow, they really had to figure out what they’d serve at a robot bar.” You just see that it’s oil and agree that that’s adorable. Robot dogs, a general fear of water, sentient airvent fans, it all makes sense in the world of the game, and it’s all rendered beautifully in high resolution. The characters and environments are both beautifully, smoothly animated, and there is an overall sense of vibrancy that makes you wish you could wander through the world long after the game is over. Accompanying the art is a subtle electronic soundtrack that never gets repetitive, no matter how long you’re stuck, and adds a wonderful ambiance to the rich visuals.

So what is the game about? Well, you start off assembling a small robot out of pieces scattered around a junkyard. You strike deals with a scavenger bot to have him bring you bits and pieces of yourself, and you assemble tools out of scattered pieces that allow you to navigate your way out of there. With an inventory and one hint per level, there’s always something new to try. The puzzles themselves range from simple (eg. trading one object for a more useful object) to elaborate (eg. disarming a bomb) but it is impossible to screw yourself over, as your little robot is a very hardy character.

I hate to give too much away, though. If those visuals don’t intrigue already, playing the demo on the website should give you a good taste of what the game is like. Go forth with my hearty recommendation!

I’m really enjoying it!

For an album about relationships and inner monologue and only a few (okay fine several) completely fantastic scenarios, this sounds like it was recorded in space. Space, the way space looked in a B movie inspired by 2001 but made by fans of Sun Ra. Really! Just think about it for a minute, I know you’ll agree.

The layered synthetic sounds in this album put a cold glittering sheen on what is otherwise almost flawless pop song writing. The structures are simple: verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus repeats and then fades, over and over again. The lyrics are often minimal, a spare approach mirrored in Haines’ vocal technique, where her volume ranges from “quiet” to “not quite as quiet” with only a few notable exceptions.

Haines’ vocals add a stoic layer to songs otherwise made epic and grandiose with all the tricks written for dance music since disco. Looping riffs, vertical key changes, double-time thrumming basslines, it all combines into songs that are viciously catchy and itchably danceable. I can confirm this because I listened to this album quite a bit in the car, and was accused of tapping the pedals in time to the music, thus making my passenger somewhat carsick. The price of good songwriting, I say.

However, as you find yourself singing along to the lyrics, you start to notice how subtle, dark and witty Haines gets. There’s a mix of self deprecation and immensely sarcastic self-empowerment floating through her music, perfect for the world-weary twenty-something gir- I mean, woman, who likes looking good and telling people off and being lonely about it afterwards.

So, where and when would I put on this album? Well, any of the upbeat songs are great additions to your favourite dance mix. I can see “Sick Muse”  helping amp up the ante while you predrink, and “Satellite Mind”, with its NES bassline, might take a few bars to get heavy but you wouldn’t be able to resist it if it came on while you were sulking at the edge of the dancefloor. “Stadium Love” is the song for when you’re too tired to be dancing but too high on endorphins to stop just yet. I’d save “Twilight Galaxy” for the quiet car ride home after a passionately futile night out with your distant lover, though. It’s the beautiful mood killer of the evening/album.

In summary, let me recommend this album to anyone who wants to pretend they are partying in the future and it is even lonelier than the 80s in space, and catchier.

I’ll update this as I do more, and republish.

Rob, you’re my muse.

I am also passing my two perspective courses! Thank god. Here’s a sampling of my work from them:

Six weeks of class = midterm portfolio reviews! Here’s a selection of my life drawing and principles of drawing exercises.

Dan challenged us to do one a day. So I’m gonna give it a shot. And hey – they’re sketchy but maybe a few good ideas will show up? God only knows…

Here’s the first effort!