Issue 5: Soul Glo – Songs to Yeet at the Sun

On radical innovation in music.

Part I: Double middle fingers

A basic law of energy is that when the intention is to transform one form into another, some of the energy gets lost through one or multiple different other forms. Transforming electricity into light through a lightbulb means a lot of the energy  changes into heat and gets lost that way.

The same rule applies to language. Trying to convey one form of meaning – let’s say, music – through another – language – inevitably yields disappointing results. From language follows, usually, a broad understanding, but also misinterpretation based on individual context, which then results in accompanying problems.

Music writers have little to show for the decades of work and millions of words spent on the topic, my own work included, when comparing emotions elicited from either music or the writing that it spawned. At best, in the long run we can say music writing is functional.

Of course, when music was mostly locked away behind single purchases in the forms of physical albums, EP’s and singles (or, lord forbid, cassingles), there was some value in reading an otherwise anonymous person’s opinion on whether or not the latest album from some band was worth investing in.

But let us pretend the rise of free and cheap options to listen to nearly the world’s entire library of music, which has made it so that another’s opinion is now merely a plaything between friends and strangers on the internet – something to mock-fight about in the interest of projecting meaning on the world, hasn’t already happened.

Sorry about that sentence. Anyway.

Even beyond writing about music, writing and language used within music such as simple descriptors like ‘genre’ are absurdly useless. You can go either too broad (saying I like ‘metal’ might then seem like an invitation to give me a Five Finger Death Punch LP for my birthday) or dial it in to a preposterously detailed level that’s impossible to decipher by anyone but music nerds with online newsletters (what the fuck does ‘blackened screamo’ even mean? And I’ve used that term!).

In case you haven’t noticed: Yes, I have a stick up my ass about the concept of ‘genre’.

On with the show.

Sure, there’s a general use for the labels we put on music. At least if you’re going to a death metal show, you’ll be just about guaranteed you’re not gonna hear much electro, for better or worse. Never mind having a good ‘punk and hardcore’ section in a record shop makes it easier to look for that first press orange color 7” of that shitty band you don’t even really like that much.

And there’s certainly bands who will pick a genre at the start of their careers and stick to a tried formula come hell or high water. I can almost respect that kind of dedication to lack of originality.

What I respect more than anything, though, is a band that’s willing to throw up double middle fingers to any expectations set on them, either internally or externally, genre or otherwise, and just make unexpected music. This is the music that, when I listen to it, feels to me like it was meant to exist, and just required a conduit to become reality in our physical realm. Sometimes there’s just something that’s waiting on the right person or people to pluck it out of the air and breathe life into it.

That’s not to say that this is effortless. But the best music generally feels effortless to its listeners. Like there was no other logical way a song is supposed to sound than how it came out in the end.

Soul Glo is a band that does exactly that.

Part II: Ride the bomb to the bottom

Coming to Songs to Yeet at the Sun without any context and just listening to it is a wild experience. “Ok,” you might say after putting on the first song, the furious track (Quietly) Do the Right Thing, “This sure sounds like an intense hardcore band.” Sounds great, and it veers into some interesting directions, but keeps up a certain pace. Number two, called 29, starts off on a similar note, but then it happens.

The song starts to feel like a train that’s going too fast and the brakes are shot. By the second verse, the track starts to feel chaotic, like the band is almost losing grip on it. The instruments no longer fitting together but slowly tearing apart from each other. And then: a minor respite, and for a fraction of a second you feel like it’s being reigned in again. The fast plinking of a piano starts, however, and signals that, actually, the band has no intention of slowing down and will run this fucking thing into the ground if need be. But much like how major Kong in Dr. Strangelove gleefully rides an H-bomb into oblivion, Soul Glo finds fun in this rapid descent.

And then things get even weirder. Well, if you’re used to more structured music and have certain expectations of what a ‘hardcore punk band’ should be. Which, to be fair, I can be accused of from time to time.

Soul Glo doesn’t give a fuck about expectations. Or if they do, the band hides it very well. What comes next is not another chaotic guitar driven punk maelstrom, but a grimy hip-hop track named 2K with a guest spot from Archangel. Going to be real here: I wasn’t expecting that one.

And yet, it fits so perfectly with the overall vibe of the record. As much of a gear change as it is, after 29’s crazy end, it’s easy to slide into 2K and go with it. It’s a solid track too, and much like the rest of the album it has its barbs up and will challenge you to keep up – it’s not going where you think it’s going.

The EP then shifts back into the ‘absolute chaos’ gear again and finishes up with Mathed Up and I’m on Probation. The first of which can best be described as a punk track about double standards about the US’ approach to weed – which then veers off into… Well, I honestly have a hard time describing it. Noisecore? It’s kinda grindy as well. Anyway, who cares, it’s worth listening to.

The final track starts off sludgy, only to devolve into a grindcore-esque bloodbath of noise after which it picks up that sludginess from the start again with some riffs that doom bands could milk for at least several minutes.

Part III: Attack of the clones

Despite having literally just done it, the point of this writing is not to stand still at every track on this EP and analyse it to death. It just seems like the best way to show my appreciation for this band and record. It’s to celebrate that at any moment during its play time, you have no idea what’s going to happen next on Songs to Yeet at the Sun. It’s invigorating.

There are many reasons to listen to music. At times one wants to be consoled, or hear something familiar. Relive a moment. And that’s fine, it’s the magic of music that it allows us these venues. Mostly, though, I long for new experiences, moments that show me that not everything has been done, no matter how often it feels like it has been.

Familiarity breeds contempt, they say. Whoever coined that term wasn’t aware of the music industry anno 2021, where artists and record companies get rewarded for picking at trends like vultures pick at carcasses. Always on something that’s already been discovered, never being able to make the kill themselves.

But it’s bands like Soul Glo that make the kill in the first place, a band that paves a way with releases like Songs to Yeet at the Sun. I’m thankful the band has been picked up by Epitaph, hopefully opening new doors for them and allowing this fresh take on punk rock to reach new ears.

It also means that, if successful, it won’t be long before using the term ‘Soul Glo-esque’ will be considered a valid description of a band.

Fuck it, music dorks like me will get over it. I just hope the band will do well. When you’re that brutally innovative, you deserve it.