Telehealth
Green World Image
(Sub Pop)
With anxiety levels spiking to all-time highs because of you-know-who and -what in the USA, Seattle quintet Telehealth sound especially built for this awful moment. Their lyrics suggest struggles with working in the tech biz, and the music serves as an escape valve for the stresses they’ve endured in the air- conditioned nightmare. Certainly, there’s a winking cleverness about Telehealth’s persona, and whether it strikes you as too clever or refreshing probably depends on how immersed in and/or aware of corporate culture you are. The spoken-word intro “[user onboarding sequence]” gives away the game: “What if there was a model for living that connected people, finances, nature, and technology into one seamless experience? What if we told you the future is already here? Welcome to Telehealth.”
The follow-up to 2023’s Content Oscillator, Green World Image represents a great leap forward into punchier dance-induction (Trevor Spencer produces). “The Telehealth Shuffle” is a spring-footed dance rocker that sproings like a more salubrious LCD Soundsystem while John O’Connor’s bulbous bass line powers “Kokomo 2,” as Kendra Cox and Alexander Attitude’s synths swell and snake with the ominous grandeur that Gary Numan took to the banque. Seemingly fueled by a vat of coffee, the zany new wave banger “Cool Job” proves that you can never go wrong with wonkily tuned, angular guitar riffs and zapping, video-arcade synths. “Donor Country (A gOoD cAuSe)” rides a tense, terse riff that recalls that of Wire’s “Another the Letter.” The song illustrates that triggering widespread panic and starting parties are startlingly similar. Raising cortisol levels to get folks on the dance floor? That’s a boss move. If Telehealth don’t become Seattle’s next medium-sized thing, I will slowly shake my head in disbelief. (See Telehealth May 14 at Neumos.)
Domenica Diavoleria
Flicker Statue Eyes
(Eiderdown)
Over the last four years, Olympia-based producer/KAOS DJ Domenica Diavoleria (aka Domenica Clark) has built an impressive catalog of hauntological ambient music, culminating in Flicker Statue Eyes, her most varied and evocative album yet. It evolved out of a live score she recorded for Neil Jordan’s 1984 gothic fantasy horror movie The Company of Wolves, based on an Angela Carter story. Even if you’ve not seen the film or read the story, you can enjoy Diavoleria’s compositions, which subtly merge beautiful melodies with undercurrents of unease.
From the opening seconds of “The Corridor of Toys,” Diavoleria gently submerges you in a mysterious atmospheric zone where drones of unknown origin whirl. “My Sister Sleeps” increases the scare factor with foreboding screeches and turbulence, resulting in her noisiest, most chaotic track; it’s as unsettling as an AI CEO talking about the future. Another deviation occurs on “Tender Maid,” an eerie strain of subliminal techno whose beats sound like those in an update of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart.” “The Erl King” conjures an air of wonder and majesty—a misty mountain bop to tie up a movie’s post-climactic scene. Fans of Mica Levi and Robert A.A. Lowe’s unnerving soundtracks will find much to admire in Flicker Statue Eyes.
Seattle-area musicians can send music to NewSeattleMusic@TheStranger.com for possible coverage.
