The Collective (Deluxe Edition)
Kim Gordon expands her EOY list-ready 'The Collective' with two extra bonus tracks, including the brilliant Jersey club-influenced 'Bangin' on the Freeway'. RIYL Death Grips, clipping., dälek, JPEGMAFIA.
We should have known when we heard 'BYE BYE' a couple of months back just how acerbic this 'un was about to be. Inaugurating 'The Collective', its a statement of intent from Gordon, who slurs in her unmistakable listless tone over squealing synths, chuggy hardcore guitars and a blown-out trap beat that sounds as if it's fallen off the back of a Playboi Carti mixtape. It's no big surprise that Gordon's collaborator - in-demand producer Justin Raisen, who's worked with everyone from John Cale to Lil Yachty - originally penned the track for the popular Atlanta rapper. "Button down, laptop, hand cream, body lotion," Gordon reels off, vaporizing her ego and leaning into a deeply modernist form of consumer-focused chaos. She was inspired by the "absolute craziness" of the contemporary media landscape, and captures the mood by twisting familiar snatches of radio pop - Autotuned vocals, booming TR-808 kicks, whirring triplets - with the angular, DIY fwd motion she's been expunging since the earliest days of Sonic Youth. By laying herself bare and absorbing the jagged energy of contemporary Southern rap, she re-asserts her place in a conversation she's been engaged in since she enlisted Chuck D to contribute to 1990's 'Kool Thing' - a track inspired by an interview she conducted with LL Cool J.
The album evolves the sound that Gordon and Raisen began to formulate on 2019's excellent 'No Home Record'. But where that record, her official solo debut, felt like a cacophonous explosion of ideas and references, 'The Collective' is assembled from its burned-out wreckage: focused, damaged and filled with sharp, ugly edges. On 'I'm A Man', she wonders "so what if I like a big truck?" while rubbery, Soundcloud-ready kicks and snares infringe on dissonant walls of drone. "It's good enough for Nancy," she growls through a voice changer. And skittering, electronically-enhanced ad-libs fall between the dark cracks on 'Trophies', interrupting punky, fragmented blasts of noise and thundering bass hits. These Autotuned, pitch-bent vocals root 'Psychedelic Orgasm', sounding not a million miles away from Rainy Miller's heartfelt croon but buried underneath slashed-amp riffs and hotwired beats. Gordon's most conspicuous on 'Shelf Warmer', muttering bare nothings that confront an anodyne reality: "Did you get it, at the gift shop?" she asks, "it's a shelf warmer." And she takes a gothier tone on 'The Believers', echoing into the void over crunching industrial scrapes and metallic slams, and the kind of eardrum-crushing guitar tone she's been sculpting to a fine point since 'Bad Moon Rising'.
Gordon's always been essential, and always challenging, but she's outdone herself with this one, neatly addressing a paranoid American mainstream with cryptic text drawn from its own language. The two additional tracks - 'Bangin' on the Freeway' and 'ECRP' - only add to the allure, with the former pulverizing a drill-twinged Jersey thud with distorted vocals and heavyweight noise chops, and the latter working as an uncanny inversion of opener 'BYE BYE'. It's the rare occasion when the deluxe edition is better than the original album - trust Gordon, honestly.
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Kim Gordon expands her EOY list-ready 'The Collective' with two extra bonus tracks, including the brilliant Jersey club-influenced 'Bangin' on the Freeway'. RIYL Death Grips, clipping., dälek, JPEGMAFIA.
We should have known when we heard 'BYE BYE' a couple of months back just how acerbic this 'un was about to be. Inaugurating 'The Collective', its a statement of intent from Gordon, who slurs in her unmistakable listless tone over squealing synths, chuggy hardcore guitars and a blown-out trap beat that sounds as if it's fallen off the back of a Playboi Carti mixtape. It's no big surprise that Gordon's collaborator - in-demand producer Justin Raisen, who's worked with everyone from John Cale to Lil Yachty - originally penned the track for the popular Atlanta rapper. "Button down, laptop, hand cream, body lotion," Gordon reels off, vaporizing her ego and leaning into a deeply modernist form of consumer-focused chaos. She was inspired by the "absolute craziness" of the contemporary media landscape, and captures the mood by twisting familiar snatches of radio pop - Autotuned vocals, booming TR-808 kicks, whirring triplets - with the angular, DIY fwd motion she's been expunging since the earliest days of Sonic Youth. By laying herself bare and absorbing the jagged energy of contemporary Southern rap, she re-asserts her place in a conversation she's been engaged in since she enlisted Chuck D to contribute to 1990's 'Kool Thing' - a track inspired by an interview she conducted with LL Cool J.
The album evolves the sound that Gordon and Raisen began to formulate on 2019's excellent 'No Home Record'. But where that record, her official solo debut, felt like a cacophonous explosion of ideas and references, 'The Collective' is assembled from its burned-out wreckage: focused, damaged and filled with sharp, ugly edges. On 'I'm A Man', she wonders "so what if I like a big truck?" while rubbery, Soundcloud-ready kicks and snares infringe on dissonant walls of drone. "It's good enough for Nancy," she growls through a voice changer. And skittering, electronically-enhanced ad-libs fall between the dark cracks on 'Trophies', interrupting punky, fragmented blasts of noise and thundering bass hits. These Autotuned, pitch-bent vocals root 'Psychedelic Orgasm', sounding not a million miles away from Rainy Miller's heartfelt croon but buried underneath slashed-amp riffs and hotwired beats. Gordon's most conspicuous on 'Shelf Warmer', muttering bare nothings that confront an anodyne reality: "Did you get it, at the gift shop?" she asks, "it's a shelf warmer." And she takes a gothier tone on 'The Believers', echoing into the void over crunching industrial scrapes and metallic slams, and the kind of eardrum-crushing guitar tone she's been sculpting to a fine point since 'Bad Moon Rising'.
Gordon's always been essential, and always challenging, but she's outdone herself with this one, neatly addressing a paranoid American mainstream with cryptic text drawn from its own language. The two additional tracks - 'Bangin' on the Freeway' and 'ECRP' - only add to the allure, with the former pulverizing a drill-twinged Jersey thud with distorted vocals and heavyweight noise chops, and the latter working as an uncanny inversion of opener 'BYE BYE'. It's the rare occasion when the deluxe edition is better than the original album - trust Gordon, honestly.
Kim Gordon expands her EOY list-ready 'The Collective' with two extra bonus tracks, including the brilliant Jersey club-influenced 'Bangin' on the Freeway'. RIYL Death Grips, clipping., dälek, JPEGMAFIA.
We should have known when we heard 'BYE BYE' a couple of months back just how acerbic this 'un was about to be. Inaugurating 'The Collective', its a statement of intent from Gordon, who slurs in her unmistakable listless tone over squealing synths, chuggy hardcore guitars and a blown-out trap beat that sounds as if it's fallen off the back of a Playboi Carti mixtape. It's no big surprise that Gordon's collaborator - in-demand producer Justin Raisen, who's worked with everyone from John Cale to Lil Yachty - originally penned the track for the popular Atlanta rapper. "Button down, laptop, hand cream, body lotion," Gordon reels off, vaporizing her ego and leaning into a deeply modernist form of consumer-focused chaos. She was inspired by the "absolute craziness" of the contemporary media landscape, and captures the mood by twisting familiar snatches of radio pop - Autotuned vocals, booming TR-808 kicks, whirring triplets - with the angular, DIY fwd motion she's been expunging since the earliest days of Sonic Youth. By laying herself bare and absorbing the jagged energy of contemporary Southern rap, she re-asserts her place in a conversation she's been engaged in since she enlisted Chuck D to contribute to 1990's 'Kool Thing' - a track inspired by an interview she conducted with LL Cool J.
The album evolves the sound that Gordon and Raisen began to formulate on 2019's excellent 'No Home Record'. But where that record, her official solo debut, felt like a cacophonous explosion of ideas and references, 'The Collective' is assembled from its burned-out wreckage: focused, damaged and filled with sharp, ugly edges. On 'I'm A Man', she wonders "so what if I like a big truck?" while rubbery, Soundcloud-ready kicks and snares infringe on dissonant walls of drone. "It's good enough for Nancy," she growls through a voice changer. And skittering, electronically-enhanced ad-libs fall between the dark cracks on 'Trophies', interrupting punky, fragmented blasts of noise and thundering bass hits. These Autotuned, pitch-bent vocals root 'Psychedelic Orgasm', sounding not a million miles away from Rainy Miller's heartfelt croon but buried underneath slashed-amp riffs and hotwired beats. Gordon's most conspicuous on 'Shelf Warmer', muttering bare nothings that confront an anodyne reality: "Did you get it, at the gift shop?" she asks, "it's a shelf warmer." And she takes a gothier tone on 'The Believers', echoing into the void over crunching industrial scrapes and metallic slams, and the kind of eardrum-crushing guitar tone she's been sculpting to a fine point since 'Bad Moon Rising'.
Gordon's always been essential, and always challenging, but she's outdone herself with this one, neatly addressing a paranoid American mainstream with cryptic text drawn from its own language. The two additional tracks - 'Bangin' on the Freeway' and 'ECRP' - only add to the allure, with the former pulverizing a drill-twinged Jersey thud with distorted vocals and heavyweight noise chops, and the latter working as an uncanny inversion of opener 'BYE BYE'. It's the rare occasion when the deluxe edition is better than the original album - trust Gordon, honestly.
Kim Gordon expands her EOY list-ready 'The Collective' with two extra bonus tracks, including the brilliant Jersey club-influenced 'Bangin' on the Freeway'. RIYL Death Grips, clipping., dälek, JPEGMAFIA.
We should have known when we heard 'BYE BYE' a couple of months back just how acerbic this 'un was about to be. Inaugurating 'The Collective', its a statement of intent from Gordon, who slurs in her unmistakable listless tone over squealing synths, chuggy hardcore guitars and a blown-out trap beat that sounds as if it's fallen off the back of a Playboi Carti mixtape. It's no big surprise that Gordon's collaborator - in-demand producer Justin Raisen, who's worked with everyone from John Cale to Lil Yachty - originally penned the track for the popular Atlanta rapper. "Button down, laptop, hand cream, body lotion," Gordon reels off, vaporizing her ego and leaning into a deeply modernist form of consumer-focused chaos. She was inspired by the "absolute craziness" of the contemporary media landscape, and captures the mood by twisting familiar snatches of radio pop - Autotuned vocals, booming TR-808 kicks, whirring triplets - with the angular, DIY fwd motion she's been expunging since the earliest days of Sonic Youth. By laying herself bare and absorbing the jagged energy of contemporary Southern rap, she re-asserts her place in a conversation she's been engaged in since she enlisted Chuck D to contribute to 1990's 'Kool Thing' - a track inspired by an interview she conducted with LL Cool J.
The album evolves the sound that Gordon and Raisen began to formulate on 2019's excellent 'No Home Record'. But where that record, her official solo debut, felt like a cacophonous explosion of ideas and references, 'The Collective' is assembled from its burned-out wreckage: focused, damaged and filled with sharp, ugly edges. On 'I'm A Man', she wonders "so what if I like a big truck?" while rubbery, Soundcloud-ready kicks and snares infringe on dissonant walls of drone. "It's good enough for Nancy," she growls through a voice changer. And skittering, electronically-enhanced ad-libs fall between the dark cracks on 'Trophies', interrupting punky, fragmented blasts of noise and thundering bass hits. These Autotuned, pitch-bent vocals root 'Psychedelic Orgasm', sounding not a million miles away from Rainy Miller's heartfelt croon but buried underneath slashed-amp riffs and hotwired beats. Gordon's most conspicuous on 'Shelf Warmer', muttering bare nothings that confront an anodyne reality: "Did you get it, at the gift shop?" she asks, "it's a shelf warmer." And she takes a gothier tone on 'The Believers', echoing into the void over crunching industrial scrapes and metallic slams, and the kind of eardrum-crushing guitar tone she's been sculpting to a fine point since 'Bad Moon Rising'.
Gordon's always been essential, and always challenging, but she's outdone herself with this one, neatly addressing a paranoid American mainstream with cryptic text drawn from its own language. The two additional tracks - 'Bangin' on the Freeway' and 'ECRP' - only add to the allure, with the former pulverizing a drill-twinged Jersey thud with distorted vocals and heavyweight noise chops, and the latter working as an uncanny inversion of opener 'BYE BYE'. It's the rare occasion when the deluxe edition is better than the original album - trust Gordon, honestly.
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Silver Vinyl LP + Silver Vinyl 7"
Kim Gordon expands her EOY list-ready 'The Collective' with two extra bonus tracks, including the brilliant Jersey club-influenced 'Bangin' on the Freeway'. RIYL Death Grips, clipping., dälek, JPEGMAFIA.
We should have known when we heard 'BYE BYE' a couple of months back just how acerbic this 'un was about to be. Inaugurating 'The Collective', its a statement of intent from Gordon, who slurs in her unmistakable listless tone over squealing synths, chuggy hardcore guitars and a blown-out trap beat that sounds as if it's fallen off the back of a Playboi Carti mixtape. It's no big surprise that Gordon's collaborator - in-demand producer Justin Raisen, who's worked with everyone from John Cale to Lil Yachty - originally penned the track for the popular Atlanta rapper. "Button down, laptop, hand cream, body lotion," Gordon reels off, vaporizing her ego and leaning into a deeply modernist form of consumer-focused chaos. She was inspired by the "absolute craziness" of the contemporary media landscape, and captures the mood by twisting familiar snatches of radio pop - Autotuned vocals, booming TR-808 kicks, whirring triplets - with the angular, DIY fwd motion she's been expunging since the earliest days of Sonic Youth. By laying herself bare and absorbing the jagged energy of contemporary Southern rap, she re-asserts her place in a conversation she's been engaged in since she enlisted Chuck D to contribute to 1990's 'Kool Thing' - a track inspired by an interview she conducted with LL Cool J.
The album evolves the sound that Gordon and Raisen began to formulate on 2019's excellent 'No Home Record'. But where that record, her official solo debut, felt like a cacophonous explosion of ideas and references, 'The Collective' is assembled from its burned-out wreckage: focused, damaged and filled with sharp, ugly edges. On 'I'm A Man', she wonders "so what if I like a big truck?" while rubbery, Soundcloud-ready kicks and snares infringe on dissonant walls of drone. "It's good enough for Nancy," she growls through a voice changer. And skittering, electronically-enhanced ad-libs fall between the dark cracks on 'Trophies', interrupting punky, fragmented blasts of noise and thundering bass hits. These Autotuned, pitch-bent vocals root 'Psychedelic Orgasm', sounding not a million miles away from Rainy Miller's heartfelt croon but buried underneath slashed-amp riffs and hotwired beats. Gordon's most conspicuous on 'Shelf Warmer', muttering bare nothings that confront an anodyne reality: "Did you get it, at the gift shop?" she asks, "it's a shelf warmer." And she takes a gothier tone on 'The Believers', echoing into the void over crunching industrial scrapes and metallic slams, and the kind of eardrum-crushing guitar tone she's been sculpting to a fine point since 'Bad Moon Rising'.
Gordon's always been essential, and always challenging, but she's outdone herself with this one, neatly addressing a paranoid American mainstream with cryptic text drawn from its own language. The two additional tracks - 'Bangin' on the Freeway' and 'ECRP' - only add to the allure, with the former pulverizing a drill-twinged Jersey thud with distorted vocals and heavyweight noise chops, and the latter working as an uncanny inversion of opener 'BYE BYE'. It's the rare occasion when the deluxe edition is better than the original album - trust Gordon, honestly.