11
ratings logged
October 2026
A mix between David Bowie, prog rock and ABBA, coated in Magdalena Bay's own art pop / synth pop sound. Imaginal Disk feels like an arthouse sci-fi film, and I mean that in the best way possible. The synth production is genius, the mixing is incredible, and the songwriting is electric. Magdalena Bay have always been good at writing hooks, but this feels like the culmination of years of perfecting their craft. Every track is ridiculously consistent, with “Death & Romance”, “Tunnel Vision” and “Vampire in the Corner” being particular highlights. The production can get completely wild, but it always serves the emotional core of the song rather than distracting from it. The album's sequencing is fantastic, too. The tracks blend together beautifully, making this an album that really deserves to be listened to front to back. Despite its futuristic, almost alien sound, the songs remain accessible and open enough to make your own. “Angel on a Satellite” is a great example of the album's diversity, grounding its sound in more traditional instrumentation without feeling out of place. Honestly, I struggle to find anything to criticise. Every song feels meticulously crafted, and the consistency is almost absurd. Still, I can't quite give it a perfect score. Maybe it simply hasn't stood the test of time for me yet. I listen to it a lot, but it hasn't quite reached the personal significance of some of my all-time favourites. Regardless, Imaginal Disk is an incredible pop record. Maybe it'll get that extra half-star someday.
There is something almost impossibly beautiful about the idea of nature being romanticised through the eyes of a sad computer. Nurture is, to me, exactly that: a botanica dreamscape, a collection of organic sounds coated in digital textures, and perhaps the most acoustic EDM album I've ever heard. I first listened to Nurture when it released in April 2021. The world was still in lockdown, and my grandmother had passed away shortly before its release. I remember that period of my life vividly, and Nurture became a source of comfort through it all. It was a helping hand, a friend, and a hopeful outlook on a world that felt rather bleak at the time. Just as the album marked an incredible shift in Porter's artistic identity, it marked an equally significant shift in my own life. Looking back, I associate Nurture with the end of my teenage years. It feels like a time capsule of a version of myself that I have since grown beyond, yet somehow, I find myself relating to its lyrics more than ever. Not because I am in the same place I was back then, but because I have come to understand them differently. The album's message of reconnecting with yourself, learning to love yourself, and finding a reason to keep going has only become more meaningful with time. What I love most about Nurture is that it doesn't seem to demand happiness from you. Instead, it invites you to find happiness while accepting that negativity will always be part of being alive. Its optimism never feels like a denial of suffering. Rather, it feels like the result of having experienced it and choosing to keep going anyway. For such a personal album, its sincerity is perhaps its greatest strength. Musically, Nurture is a remarkable balancing act. The piano melodies, acoustic textures, and natural sounds feel almost tangible, yet they are wrapped in a distinctly digital atmosphere. Porter's processed vocals fit perfectly into this world, adding to the feeling of an imperfect, artificial being attempting to express something deeply human. There is an inherent contradiction in the sound: it feels simultaneously synthetic and organic, distant and intimate, melancholic and euphoric. Somehow, all these qualities coexist without undermining one another. And then there are the songs themselves. The ballads are sweet and tender, while the bangers still hit incredibly hard. The album never sacrifices its electronic roots to become a collection of conventional singer-songwriter tracks, nor does it hide behind production to avoid its emotional vulnerability. It manages to be both an intimate confession and an exhilarating electronic record. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about Nurture is how its meaning can change alongside you. Right now, I find myself particularly drawn to the line about somebody, somewhere, finding the warmth of summer in the songs you write. It makes me think about creativity as something that can reach beyond its creator, offering comfort to someone you may never meet. Maybe that is a gift I didn't recognise when I first heard the album. Maybe that is what it means to try to feel alive. I still consider Nurture one of my five favourite albums of all time. Not because I think it is necessarily flawless, but because it has remained a constant throughout years of personal change. It helped me through a difficult period, accompanied me through the end of my teenage years, and continues to offer new perspectives as I grow older. Some albums capture a moment in your life. Others grow with you, becoming something different as you become someone different. Nurture is the latter. And I don't think I'll ever stop coming back to it.
September 2026
absolutely loved Solid State Survivor. It’s a timeless synth-pop masterclass that deserves all the praise it gets, not just for being pioneering, but because it’s genuinely great to listen to. The production still sounds remarkably modern for 1979. Technopolis and Rydeen especially have deceptively simple surfaces, but the more you listen, the more layers you notice. Everything feels dense yet incredibly well-written. Day Tripper is also a highlight, turning the familiar original into something distinctly YMO through its groove and production. Despite its Western influences, the album has a distinctly Japanese character, particularly through its use of pentatonic melodies. The pacing is also excellent the slower track breaks up the album without feeling out of place. 4.5/5 not because I think it has any major flaws, but because I haven't developed many personal memories around it yet, nor had that extra mind-blowing moment that makes an album a 5/5 for me.
23 is where HYUKOH really nails their indie rock sound for me. 22 felt like they were becoming more confident, but here the songs finally feel big and epic. Simon, Wanli and Jesus Lives in a Motel Room are probably my favorites. They all have this really cinematic feeling, with production that feels full without getting messy. The songwriting also feels more pop-oriented, but in a way that really works for them. It feels like another clear step forward and probably their strongest indie rock album. I don't get the same nostalgia from it that I do with their earlier albums either. I just genuinely think it's a really good record. My only real issue is the last two tracks. I wish the album had ended on something more cinematic because it feels like the record was building toward a bigger ending.
22 feels like HYUKOH really starting to find their sound. Compared to 20, they fit into their indie rock style much more naturally, while the production has noticeably improved. The writing is also more pop-oriented and generally stronger, although it still has that youthful feeling. Gondry is probably my favorite, alongside Comes and Goes. The music video for Gondry fits the song perfectly too. It still has some of the limitations of 20. Big Bird didn't really do much for me, and some of the riffs aren't quite as catchy as the songs seem to want them to be. But even when it doesn't fully land, the band sounds much more confident. For me, 22 feels like a clear step forward. And maybe I'm biased because I listened to HYUKOH so much when I was younger, but these early albums are nostalgic for me.
Fantasma feels like listening to an artist's sketchbook that somehow got turned into a full album. There’s this constant excitement of hearing someone just try things without worrying about fitting into a specific mold. The sampling and production are probably my favorite part. Sounds keep reappearing in clever ways, and the transitions make the whole thing feel connected rather than like a collection of unrelated experiments. Mic Check and Surf Rider were some of my favorites, but honestly I kept finding little production details that made me want to go back. It does still feel like a sketchbook at times though. There are a couple moments where I feel like a song drags on slightly, almost like you can hear where a jam wasn't quite edited down. But the transitions and constant ideas more than make up for it.
I love this album. Gasoline is a great opener and immediately sets the tone. A Tale by Quincy into Out of Time is probably my favorite part of the album. It turns this weird sense of dread into something you can actually dance to. The production is amazing and fits the concept perfectly. I can kinda see why The Weeknd ended up working with Kavinsky and in a way this must have been a sort of full circle moment. Jim Carrey also does an amazing job narrating it. The whole album feels like you're listening to a radio station in purgatory. Lyrically the writing is still very pop, but with it the Weeknd accomplishes a very strong concept and as always the lyrics never match the danceability of the album The writing dips a bit around Best Friends for me, but overall this is definitely a cut above the rest of The Weeknd's albums. It makes me a little nervous about dying, but at least I know there's a good radio station waiting for me.
There’s something nostalgic about listening to 20. I listened to HYUKOH a lot when I was around 15, so even their earliest material brings me back to that time. As a record, though, I found it easy to listen to without being particularly interesting or exciting. You can hear the rawness and youthfulness in the writing, but sometimes it feels like the sound isn’t quite developed enough to fully convey the ideas behind it. Some of the writing also felt a little uninspired to me. Our Place was the exception. The fuller production really stood out to me and gave the song a lot more presence. It’s interesting hearing the beginnings of a band I love, especially knowing how much more interesting their sound would become on albums like 24 and Through Love. There’s definitely something special about the roughness of 20, but I’m not sure it fully holds up on its own as a record. I don't speak Korean, though, so maybe I'm missing something in the lyrics.
The Beatles went out with a bang. Knowing the story behind this album, it’s hard not to feel like they covered their entire palette here, giving every member a place to shine both in writing and performance. It sounds like four masters finding the overlapping part in their craft. The transition from I Want You (She's So Heavy) into Here Comes the Sun is one of my favorite moments. It feels like refinding motivation after a really trying night. And the entire second-half medley is perfectly paced. This is especially true for the vinyl since to get to Here Comes the Sun the vinyl needs to physically be flipped to the B-side. Everything blends together while each song still manages to feel individually unique. Just listening to this album leaves me exhilarated. It feels like they couldn't have made another album after this. They had said everything they needed to say at this point in time.
Porter continues to reinvent himself, this time diving into 2000s electro-pop and emo-pop. On this album, Porter tries to blend emotional songwriting with the danceability of artists like MGMT. While Year of the Cup has some really raw and personal lyrics, the production unfortunately wasn’t that interesting to me. Russian Roulette, on the other hand, is a highlight. Here, Porter finds a way to combine that emotional songwriting with much more interesting production, creating a track that feels both incredibly vulnerable and fun to listen to. It’s that contrast between sincerity and playful, energetic production that makes the album work for me.
This album reminds me of the pandemic days, when I was glued to my PC for hours on end. There’s something really nostalgic about the production, but somehow it still feels fresh rather than dated. It captures that strange feeling of being stuck inside and immersed in the digital world, without feeling like it’s simply looking back.
