With poignant writing and irreverent humor, Sarah Tudzin’s second album as Illuminati Hotties plays like a demonstration in the art of persistence.
Sarah Tudzin opens her fantastic second album by ribbing herself mercilessly for underperforming. “In every life there is a bell,” the Illuminati Hotties wiz sings in “Pool Hopping,” the opening track of Let Me Do One More. “One rounded curve of time or tell/I’m on the left half looking over.” Soon enough, she hints at what’s got her feeling so insecure: She’s mid-breakup, just at the point where everything is up in the air. But the way Tudzin tells it, she’s ready to let the melancholy roll off her back, romping through a night of clandestine hookups, ice cream dates, and hotel pools. In other words, her life finally feels like her own again.
Reclaiming one’s own authority is a central topic for Let Me Do One More. The album follows last year’s FREE I.H.: This Is Not the One You’ve Been Waiting For, a mixtape Tudzin self-released in order to buy her way out of a frustrating label contract. FREE I.H. was scattered with pointed barbs about the music business (“Hold onto your masters, folks!”), and while Let Me Do One More doesn’t home in on that theme so explicitly, Tudzin’s sharp tongue and rebellious tendencies remain in full force. “You think I wanna be a part of every self-appointed startup?” she hollers on the blistering “MMMOOOAAAAAYAYA,” shapeshifting her voice like she’s playing five characters in a single Cartoon Network show. The songs on Let Me Do One More were written prior to FREE I.H., so with the understanding that this album is the one you’ve been waiting for, the brasher moments become triumphant.
Since her promising debut, 2018’s Kiss Yr Frenemies, Tudzin has affectionately described her clever, scrappy style as “tenderpunk.” Though her punkiest moments can be politically relevant (“The DNC is playing dirty!” she warns on “MMMOOOAAAAAYAYA”), her tender side is more prominent than ever. FREE I.H. was supposed to set her free—but on the eve of its release, Tudzin’s mother died of cancer, rendering the task of poring over hard drives to finally assemble the real album debilitating. Though the songs on Let Me Do One More predate Tudzin’s loss, her poignant, self-aware writing is keenly aware of life’s curveballs and unanticipated traumas. More importantly, it feels like a demonstration in the art of persistence.
Let Me Do One More is full of high highs and low lows, but thanks to Tudzin’s extensive experience as an engineer and producer (Pom Pom Squad, Weyes Blood), the two extremes—and they are often extreme—are meticulously balanced. The mid-tempo chug of “Knead” bridges the gap between the fired-up “MMMOOOAAAAAYAYA” and a bittersweet, socially conscious love song called “Threatening Each Other re: Capitalism.” (“But if you’re not too embarrassed of how I go out in public/Do you think that we could make a deli run?” goes one of the album’s most endearing lines.) A tongue-in-cheek monologue from Big Thief’s Buck Meek leads the surfy rocker “u v v p” into “Protector,” a dreamy, wandering ballad in which Tudzin questions a relationship’s staying power: “I am not sure that you’re my nightly news,” she coos. Then, just when you think she’s toned it down, she crashes into the ferocious barnburner “Joni: LA’s No. 1 Health Goth,” a “Rebel Girl”-esque ode to California’s contemporary social elite: too trendy and health-conscious to honor you with a passing glance. Paced like the year’s quippiest, most rewatchable rom-com, Let Me Do One More pivots through moods and musical palettes with irreverent sincerity.
On the final track, the spare, acoustic “Growth,” Tudzin’s voice drops to a near-whisper as she describes grieving for previous phases of life. “I guess being an adult is just being alone,” she sings, voice wavering. In the final seconds, you hear her mutter the album’s title, seemingly dissatisfied with the take. It’s her final sleight of hand: turning a phrase that suggests the eager anticipation of tequila shots or diving board jumps into a soft acknowledgement of perceived inadequacy. Presumably the next take wasn’t any better—but Let Me Do One More isn’t preoccupied with perfection. Tudzin knows how deep the pit of insecurity goes, which is why her record seems to say: Imagine what could happen once you get back on your feet.
0 comments:
Post a Comment