IC3PEAK - Worm

The hip-hop, electronic, and experimental music duo of Russian origin, IC3PEAK surprises us with their latest release "Worm” in collaboration with Australian singer, Kim Dracula. The video directed by the French graphic designer Mattis Dovier shows us a disturbing story through illustrations where he makes a metaphor about metamorphosis. "Worm” breaks with the tour of video clips that IC3PEAK had previously published and tells us a story based on black and white illustrations. The story is located in a subway stop where he tells us a chilling story with a hidden meaning behind it.  From: https://www.metalocus.es/en/news/worm-ft-kim-dracula-ic3peak

IC3PEAK is a Russian music group consisting of Anastasia "Nastya" Kreslina (vocals/lyrics) and Nikolay Kostylev (music). They formed in 2013 after they meet at college. They are known for their unique mix of musical genres, unconventional looks, provocative music videos and politicised lyrics. The group became target of censorship by the Russian security forces with their concerts being suddenly stopped and the members being detained for no reason. Conservative media have accused them of distribution of "subversive" material and their music has been called frightening and destructive. Not scared by the attempts to silence them, in 2019 the group became speakers for free speech in Russia and have guested in multiple rallies. The members self-describe as "Audiovisual terrorism".  From: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Music/IC3PEAK

We have already had the opportunity to present to you the work of Mattis Dovier, whose creations adopt a particular style: 2D animation in black and white, close to pixel art, with a striking visual universe rich in visual metaphors. Today we invite you to delve in more detail into the world of this artist. Mattis Dovier agreed to come back for us on his career, his style and his projects, but also on his working methods.

3DVF: What is your background?

Mattis Dovier: I am a graphic designer by training, I did a baccalaureate in applied arts then a BTS in visual communication with a multimedia option. Then I did a year of professional training in motion design at the Gobelins school. Even if my school career gave me a lot, I rather developed my animation and illustration techniques as a self-taught person. This is why I did not continue with schools to concentrate on a more personal practice.

3DVF: You are currently a freelance illustrator and animator; what types of projects do you work on the most?

Mattis Dovier: I don't really separate the part of illustration from that of animation, for me it's more of a hybrid, of animated illustration in a way. And more and more, I consider drawing as a simple medium that illustrates a story. But the common thread in my work is its relationship with music, which is why I work more for music videos.

3DVF: Several of your recent films use black and white rendering close to pixel art. Why this artistic choice?

Mattis Dovier: It was a choice that imposed itself on me because it solves a lot of problems that made making clips difficult, even prohibitive. Being alone working on my projects, I had to find a way to work quickly, this is why I became interested in pixel art, we can cover a larger drawing surface on a low resolution image, and therefore gain a lot of time, which makes frame-by-frame animation less tedious. Finally, in addition to the practical aspect, I found this technique interesting for its digital aesthetic associated with the organic side of traditional animation. For black and white it is also a question of speed of execution, but I have always been fascinated by the radical contrasts and the visual impact that this produces among the great masters of black and white in comics. Especially since the “low res” pixel-art aesthetic lends itself quite well to it.

3DVF: On a technical level, what is your process for creating these animations?

Mattis Dovier: My technique is very rudimentary, I use Photoshop like traditional animation software: I create different video layers which serve as layers: one for the contours, one for each fill. When they are invention drawings I use the onion skin function, and when I use videos as a basis, I redraw the video frame by frame on a layer (rotoscope). Generally I mix the two to obtain a realistic result but with a degree of interpretation important enough not to be “photorealistic” and to highlight the drawing.
To get different shades of pixels, I draw pixel patterns which I embed in a layer to draw with. In this way I use pixel grids as more or less dark areas of gray. But there are several ways to do it, you can directly import the grayscale images as bitmaps, but I prefer the “artisanal” solution which gives less random results. Then I edit the animations on Premiere with sound.

3DVF: Is this workflow relatively fixed, or does it evolve over the course of plans and projects?

Mattis Dovier: I remain fairly faithful to my method to maintain consistency in my work and a certain mastery, but over time I refine it by sorting out what works and what doesn't. I often hesitated between breaking this aesthetic or gradually evolving it, and I finally opted for the second option. With each project I try to learn a new technique, for example I increased the resolution of the image to move more towards pointillism and be able to draw more details. In terms of animation too, I no longer animate all the elements with the same ratio, I realized that certain elements must be more fluid and others can be less animated while in my first works I remained on 12 frames/second constant. The main thing is to find ways to evolve without getting bored and falling into repetition. But even if aesthetics are important there are many other aspects to work on such as

Translated from: https://3dvf.com/redaction/dossier-1320-rencontre-avec-mattis-dovier-html/

Siouxsie And The Banshees - Peek-A-Boo

An oddball in the Banshees catalog, “Peek-A-Boo” is a very danceable track built around a reverse sample from John Cale’s song, “Gun” and a manipulated vocal from Siouxsie Sioux achieved through her using a different microphone for each line of the song. Due to the lyrics, “Golly jeepers/Where’d you get those weepers?/Peepshow, creepshow/Where did you get those eyes?“, the band was forced to give writing credits to Harry Warren and Johnny Mercer. During an MTV interview, Siouxsie said that the song is about “the way women are portrayed in our fascist media.”

Creeping up the backstairs
Slinking into dark stalls
Shapeless and slumped in bath chairs
Furtive eyes peep out of holes
She has many guises
She'll do what you want her to
Playing dead and sweet submission
Cracks the whip, deadpan on cue

Reeking like a pigsty
Peeling back and gagging free
Flaccid ego in your hand
Chokes on dry tears, can you understand?
She's jeering at the shadows
Sneering behind a smile
Lunge and thrust to pout and pucker
Into the face of the beguiled

Strobe lights pump and flicker
Dry lips crack out for more
“Come bite on this rag doll, baby!
That's right, now hit the floor”
They're sneaking out the back door
She gets up from all fours
Rhinestone fools and silver dollars
Curdle into bitter tears

Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Golly jeepers, where'd you get those weepers?
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peep show, creep show, where did you get those eyes?

From: https://genius.com/Siouxsie-and-the-banshees-peek-a-boo-lyrics

Fleetwood Mac - I'm So Afraid - Live 1976

As is probably easy to tell, I have a weakness for emotionally charged guitar solos — doesn’t everyone, really? — to the point that I can even overlook lazy songwriting or cliché-ridden lyrics if, in the end, it’s all about the power of the mighty axe. But perhaps the greatest advantage of the guitar solo is that it is usually the most dynamic, experimental, "living and breathing" part of the song. Over years and decades of live performance, verses, bridges and choruses largely stay the same (unless you’re somebody like Bob Dylan who’s made a special art out of thoroughly reinventing his catalog over and over again), but the instrumental bits are specifically those moments where you have the potential to "update" the song with whatever textures, moods, and feels you think appropriate for the moment (unless you’re somebody like Lynyrd Skynyrd who have made a special art out of perfectly reproducing the exact same notes, regardless of the level of complexity, over and over again).
And when it comes to moody tunes with awesome guitar solos, no other song in the history of rock music has ever managed to grip my attention to the point of wanting to explore its entire lifeline than Lindsey Buckingham’s ‘I’m So Afraid’, from its first appearance as a studio track on the 1975 Fleetwood Mac album and all the way up to the band’s (and Lindsey’s solo) concert performances in the early 21st century. Compared to Fleetwood Mac’s big hits, ‘I’m So Afraid’ has always been more of a cult favorite — and not just because it was not released as a single, but also because it is one of the few Fleetwood Mac songs that offers not a drop of hope: bleak, morose, and desperate from start to finish, it claims to descend into much deeper depths of personal Hell than even something like ‘The Chain’, so it could never be a radio staple.
Yet it is also a song that has been steadily played at pretty much all Fleetwood Mac concerts since 1975, never ever dropped from the setlist — except for those time periods during which Buckingham stayed out of the band (e.g. on the Tango In The Night tour), presumably implying that nobody could ever hope to do the song justice apart from its own creator, a suspicion confirmed by the fact that absolutely no single pop/rock act of any notable stature has ever dared to cover the tune. Fairly few pieces in the history of the entire genre, to be honest, have been linked more tightly with just one man than ‘I’m So Afraid’, which makes it even more fascinating to track down the complex evolution of the song in live performance.
Although, apparently, no pre-Fleetwood Mac versions of the song have survived, it is usually said that Lindsey wrote the tune around 1971, while suffering from mononucleosis and having Stevie Nicks take care of him through much of the year; according to another account, he did not add the lyrics until his father’s death in 1974, but this I am not so inclined to believe because (a) the lyrics are entirely self-centered, with not the faintest hint of grieving for anybody other than oneself and (b) the lyrics show a certain clumsy crudeness that is more high school than college, if you get my drift: "Days when the rain and the sun are gone / Black as night, agony’s torn at my heart too long" is, frankly speaking, very cringey poetry — Lindsey’s no Dylan, for sure, but he got better with his words later on, and I’d rather believe that a 22-year old wrote this rather than a 25-year old. (Just in case, remember that the transition from 22 to 25 can sometimes be the transition from love, love me do, you know I love you to he’s a real Nowhere Man, sitting in his Nowhere Land).
Yet be it 1971, 1974, or 1975 when the song finally came out, every time I try to put it in context, much to my renewed surprise, I cannot truly understand its proper musical and spiritual roots. In fact, the more I think about it the more I realize that fear — primal, existential fear, the one that gives you a panic attack in the middle of the night with no apparent cause — is an emotion that was largely absent from popular music at the time. Skip a few years ahead to New Wave, and you get yourself Joy Division and The Cure and all sorts of goth-rock and what-not, but how many songs before that do you know that simply want to convey that terrified state of mind, driving you up the wall for no discernible reason? Having checked more than 120,000 titles in my personal digital library, I found absolutely no relevant compositions with words like "afraid" or "fear" in the title; most of them usually carry the encouraging message of don’t be afraid — amusingly, even Nico’s ‘Afraid’ from 1971’s Desertshore is a song of hope, and we’re talking of the prototypical «Goth girl» here!
You could think Jim Morrison, but Jim Morrison did not exude fear or vulnerability — his music embraced the darkness rather than dreaded it. You could think something like the Stones’ ‘Sister Morphine’, which comes close, but it was still a theater piece for Jagger who acted it out rather than lived it out. You could try and go deeper into the past, back to all those creepy old Southern bluesmen, but that would mostly be religious fear, drilled into them by tradition. Ironically, perhaps the closest person before Lindsey Buckingham of Fleetwood Mac to bottling that vibe may have been... Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac, whose own mental condition drove him to record stuff like ‘The Green Manalishi’ that crawled pretty deep under your skin. (And it is hardly a coincidence that the song that secured the acceptance of the Buckingham-Nicks duo into Fleetwood Mac was ‘Frozen Love’ from their eponymous album, which shares a bit of a common vibe with ‘I’m So Afraid’ — even a few lines in the guitar solo are the same — and might have easily given Mick Fleetwood a «this guy is the new Peter» impression).
Anyway, returning to the song, which closed out the self-titled Fleetwood Mac album on a stunningly morbid note compared to the overall vivaciousness, even breeziness of the record — the original studio version is fantastic all by itself, of course. It largely leaves out the ladies in the band, but it is an almost equally strong showcase for both Lindsey and the rhythm section, with John McVie pumping out the most grim-reaperish bassline he could think of and Mick, in tandem, never letting go of the bass drum throughout. Together, they create a bulging paranoid pulse for the song against which Lindsey unleashes his feelings — and those, within the some­what padded studio setting, are dressed up in expressively melodic, almost romantic textures, from the near-falsetto overtones of the singing to the colorful effects on double-tracked lead guitars. The sheer open dread does not begin to pour out until the guitar solo, with its shrillness and distortion, comes out into the open... but then it only does so for just a few bars before fading out, leaving us yearning for more.
It’s pretty much a given among Mac fans that the song only properly came to life on stage, but over the years I have learned to appreciate the special charm of the studio version in much the same way as, for instance, I like the soft acoustic textures of studio Tommy just as much as the rip-roaring stage version. The smoothed-out studio production gives the song, one might say, a slightly more nuanced, «aristocratic», Byronesque vibe, and while in live performance Lindsey usually howls, growls, or screams out the words, letting it all out, here he sings it with no audience in sight, making the entire delivery more of an internal monologue than a theatrical look-at-poor-me tour-de-force. I can certainly dig that; this is an ‘I’m So Afraid’ for the genuine depressed recluse, rather than a desperate exhibitionist.  From: https://onlysolitaire.substack.com/p/the-life-of-a-song-vol-1-fleetwood

Sinéad O'Connor - Fire On Babylon

"Fire On Babylon" is about Sinéad O'Connor's mother, a common topic in her songs. O'Connor has accused her mother, who died in 1985, of abusing her and her siblings. In this song, she levels another accusation when she sings: "Look what she did to her son."
"It had to do with something I found out she'd done to one of my brothers that just really made me angry," O'Connor explained in her memoir Rememberings. "Truth to tell, it's very hard for me to get angry about my mother. It's the way I've survived. I've convinced myself she didn't know what she was doing. People will do that, but of course, I've misplaced that anger and it might be more mature for me to accept it."
The song was released as a single from O'Connor's fourth album, Universal Mother. By this time, she had burned many bridges in the industry, so she had trouble getting radio play or positive publicity. In 1990, she had a huge hit with "Nothing Compares 2 U," a song from her second album, which made her a global star. But she kicked back against the notoriety and became more political, veering as far from pop stardom as she could. Her next album, released in 1992, was a collection of covers called Am I Not Your Girl? By the time Universal Mother came out in 1994, her star had fallen, which was fine with her. She still had enough fans to get the album on the charts in many countries.
O'Connor wrote the song with John Reynolds, her first husband and the father of her first child. They divorced in 1991 but shared a lasting bond and kept working together. He also produced the track (along with O'Connor and Tim Simenon) and played drums on it. Michel Gondry directed the music video, which shows O'Connor in what looks like a doll house as she shares screen time with her younger self. At one point, she presents her mother with a birthday cake that catches fire, a symbol of her resentment. Gondry has many very clever videos with bright colors and shifting perspectives. Others include "Everlong" by Foo Fighters and "Human Behaviour" by Björk.
A few things were different about O'Connor on the Universal Mother album. For one, she had hair. Not a lot, but enough to cover her head. Also, she sang in her Irish accent instead of suppressing it like she had done before. The trumpet riff is a sample of "Dr. Jekyll," a 1958 track by jazz great Miles Davis.  From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/sinead-oconnor/fire-on-babylon


Tangerine Stoned - Le Verità di Allen

I have a really complicated relationship with The Doors - I love them, but I also roll my eyes at some of the ‘poetry’ for which Jim Morrison was so famous and lauded. My favorite example is from ‘Riders on the Storm’, in which "there’s a killer on the road, his brain is squirmin’ like a toad". That, my dear friends, is lyric!
I had to take that potshot at The Lizard King, but the reason I have occasion to bring up one of the best bands of all times, is that Italian band Tangerine Stoned have made a bluesy, psychedelic album on par with some of the best from the height of the genre, circa 1967. And yes, at times, this album is very much a Doors-ian trip. Young Doors, though, not bloated, alkie, bearded-to-hide-the-double-chin Morrison Doors.
Just to be totally clear, I read the press release notes for the Tangerine Stoned album, and it specifically mentions The Doors as an influence, but also mentions such heavy-hitters as The Seeds and 13th Floor Elevators.
I am way more familiar with The Seeds than the 13th Floor Elevators, having bought A Web of Sound for mere pennies at a junk sale when I was about 12. My dad, the man that has been the biggest single influence on my musical tastes and all, laughed when he saw a Seeds album, but as always, let me figure it out for myself. The Seeds were campy at best, but they were the epitome of the pipestem trouser, page-boy hair, peasant-shirt-with-vest image associated with their ‘scene’, man. Let’s just say this: Tangerine Stoned is way better than The Seeds could ever be, closer to being as good as The Doors.
The opening track is ‘Venice’, which is likely an homage to the beach of the same name, the beach on which Jim Morrison and Ray Manzarek (may he rest in peace!) met. This number is bluesy and funky, with sort of haunting vocals. Or maybe it’s about the Flooded City (since these guys are Italian) - Either way, it’s a pretty rocking track. ‘Clean Window’ is more of the same, very smooth, very ‘60s, very ethereal in parts. This track also showcases more vocal range, and some cool-sounding guitar riffery. I think that the mish-mash of clean-sounding and distortion effects on the guitar make this one my early favorite.
‘Blues in Door’ starts off with some Keith Relf-style mouth-harp (that’s what we cool folks call the harmonica) in this rollicking party track. This song reminds me of movies like ‘Coogan’s Bluff’ in which the Psychedelic scene folks are portrayed as crazy, drug-addled, Hammond-playing weirdos. I dig it, man! The harmonica in this mostly instrumental track is cool, and there is a really funky bass almost-solo as well. Anyone up for the Pigeon-toed Orange Peel for a shroom cocktail tonight?
‘Dirty Ceiling’ expounds further on the Hammond organ, and is so similar in style to The Doors, vocally, that it’s almost too close. I am quite impressed that this vocalist’s first language is not English, yet he totally nails it throughout.
I feel like I have to mention the drumming, as well, to be totally fair - it’s solid and not overpowering, and these guys are pretty tight. I get the feeling that they really know what they wanted things to sound like and maybe whomever did the mixing as well - nothing seems like out of place or overdone.
‘Nave Da Bar’ is a bit faster, but more of the same coolness. Swirly guitars and ‘Light My Fire’ organs underneath it, with a cool couple of bass/drums moments mixed in. I’ve got no idea what the lyrics are or what they might mean (something about magical and mystery?), but the delivery is cool and enjoyable. The singer could match Ian Astbury note-for-note in my book.
The last track, and a long one at over 11 minutes, ‘L'Urlo della Strega’, has some Sitar at the beginning (or emulated Sitar?), and I’m frankly surprised that the song is not exactly 4 minutes and 20 seconds long (see what I did there?). It’s a bit meandering for me at the start, as a dude that is not a poker of smot any more, but again, it’s a cool track in the same vein as ‘Riders on the Storm’ or similar.
During my research, I happened to have read another reviewer’s take on this album, and he wrote something like these guys have stayed more than one night at the Morrison Hotel, and goddamnit! I wish I had written that!
Tangerine Stoned’s Facebook page is in Italian, so I don’t know much about them at all, but I am really pleased that I was able to review their self-titled effort. These are some solid musicians that play some pretty good, nostalgia-friendly tunes. And with a huge hole left in the world of music with Manzareck’s passing recently (and I am being totally sincere, I loved hearing him talk about music and such), there is even more room for such an homage to a group with whom I have such a complex relationship. Cheers, Gentlemen! Or maybe ‘Saluto’? Either way, nicely done.  From: https://echoesanddust.com/2013/08/tangerine-stoned-tangerine-stoned/

Dionne Warwick - Walk On By - Live 1964

It’s difficult — and probably somewhat foolish — to try to choose one composition as the definitive work from the long and prolific hitmaking career of pop maestro Burt Bacharach, who died Wednesday at age 94. Working first with lyricist and longtime songwriting/production partner Hal David and later with his then-wife Carole Bayer Sager, Bacharach penned dozens of the biggest hits from the early ’60s right through the early MTV era, spanning doo-wop to new wave, with seven Hot 100 No. 1s to his credit — no two by the same artist, but all bearing his unmistakable thumbprint.
But Bacharach and David’s longest-lasting and most essential artist collaboration was undoubtedly with pop icon Dionne Warwick, with whom the duo scored a career’s worth of exquisite chart hits over the course of the ’60s. Even within the Bacharach/David/Warwick trio’s resume together, it’s difficult to choose just one signature song, as “Anyone Who Had a Heart,” “A House Is Not a Home,” “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself,” “Do You Know the Way to San Jose” and “I Say a Little Prayer” have all proven enduring classics in their own right.
Still, there’s something singular about “Walk on By,” the 1964 hit that has since become a regular finisher in Greatest Song of All Time polls. No work better demonstrates Bacharach and David’s peerless ability to blend the delicate with the overpowering, to capture the sound of a bursting heart in the split second before it shatters into a million pieces, and to do so with timeless textbook songcraft that nonetheless never fails to delight and surprise. And no song better demonstrates why Warwick was their ideal conduit, a vocalist who could find the strength and stateliness in fragility better than any pop star before or since.  From: https://www.billboard.com/music/pop/dionne-warwick-walk-on-by-greatest-song-of-all-time-1235250870/

Raze The Maze - 7am Dream

After MoeTar came full circle four years ago with the release of their final EP Final Four, and having two studio albums in the can from Magna Carta Reords, Tarik Ragab and Moorea Dickason have returned to the Bay Area prog scene with a massive kick in the family jewels with a new project called Raze The Maze. According to their website, Raze The Maze is seeking the internal maze of fear-based corporate driven culture and raise up creativity, connection, and expression in its place. They released their sole self-titled debut in 2019. And now in 2022, they’re following it up with their second album 7am Dream. It has the spirit of MoeTar’s legacy and the elements of chamber pop, avant-prog, and sheer attitude that is brought to the kitchen table. The visions on here have odd time changes, spirituality, brainwashing corruption, and the crazy-ass shit that’s been going on during the pandemic two years ago and into today.
From the continuation of songs such as ‘Under the Spell’, ‘Hero Villain’, and the title-track, they continued where they left-off from MoeTar’s ‘Butchers of Bagdad’ and the ‘Entropy of the Century’. You can tell that the duo have made a reprise by returning and concluding the stories by bringing the final chapters into their compositions. And they have a real psyche of the band’s mystery, adding a twist of lemon into their homemade lemon pie. ‘Persistence’ is a tip of the hat to Zappa’s Uncle Meat-era with escalating grooves to whirlpools of synths, Hanson’s bassoons jumping from one crocodile head to another, and Ragab conducting him to go crazy at the very end. Then, all hell has broken loose for Moorea to transform herself into a vicious, snarling blood-thirsty beast by reading the ‘Letters from the Parking Lot.’ Both she and Tarik race up to the spiraling staircase with crazy textures that have a blistering effect, and right in front of your face as he channels the styles of Alex Lifeson’s arpeggiated powder-keg with a Mother Goose twist in the styles of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb.’ 7am Dream is an enthralling roller-coaster ride from start to finish. It proves that both Moorea and Tarik are keeping the machine going, and never touching the stop button. It’s an album that’ll keep you on the edge of your seat.  From: https://echoesanddust.com/2022/10/raze-the-maze-7am-dream/