Antony Szmierek Flight Simulator Following on from his distinctive and cinematic piece, Chalk, featured on BlackPlastic in March, British electronic producer Antony Szmierek is back with new single Flight Simulator. Szmierek was working as an English teacher at a college for children with developmental needs as his combination of spoken word and cinematic electronic production took off. Initial success led to him collecting the 6Music Artist of the Year award for 2023 following his EP, Poems to Dance To. Having subsequently found further breakthrough success with last year’s album Service Station at the End of the Universe, Szmierek has found exposure through a combination of Glastonbury Festival, Jools Holland, and frequent BBC airplay. Here on Flight Simulator, the artist paints a picture of fear triggered by humanity’s hubris in the modern age. Snapshots of aeroplanes, whether real, imagined or digital, create a moment of reflection as Szmierek wrestles with the notion of control, responsibility, and fate. The meaning is open to our interpretation — is this a song about a flight simulator, or about the weight of the choices we make in life, and our responsibilities to those that our choices affect? As with Chalk, Szmierek’s vocals here provide a grounded contrast to the music. His lyrics hit poetic highs, with just the song’s first few lines evoking so much so quickly: ‘And all the birds, they won’t stop laughing at the folly of the human race. Cuz we thought that we were angels We watch particles accelerate. If I can’t land it, then I’ll fuck it Right through my ex’s garage, And when I’m comatose It will be her voice that guides me through the panic.’ Shuffling synth sounds evoke heavenly electronics of Dan Snaith and Fred again.., as Szmierek’s performance is gently embellished with additional vocals from Imogen and the Knife. A video depicts Szmierek, sat over the shoulder of a man attempting to land an aeroplane on a supposed flight simulator, shaking as things begin to go wrong. A message is recorded into a phone as Szmierek dances with Imogen, coloured lights enveloping them, much like Paul Mescal’s character in Aftersun. Following on from the cinematic grime of Chalk, Szmierek has made something more haunting and beautiful. In addition to listening in the post, you can find almost all the music BlackPlastic covers on the music player of your choice. Add the dedicated playlist below: Apple Music Spotify

Following on from my recent post about the BlackPlastic hosted club on Sound Club, I wanted to share the write-up that accompanies the current album I'm featuring there. That album is the Juan Maclean's Less Than Human. Check out my write-up below, and head over to Sound Club to listen to the album and join in any discussion. Coming out relatively early on in a run of what was arguably a golden era for DFA Records, John Maclean’s The Juan Maclean project saw him team up with LCD Soundsystem’s Nancy Whang. Together they have created multiple albums blending elements of house, techno, and electro. None resonate for me quite like this first album, Less Than Human. Whilst it comprises just nine songs, making up less than fifty-minutes of music, this is an album that occasionally reaches epic proportions. More on that later. AD2003 is a futurist piece of electronica, synths crash and crisp drums clash on this short intro. Shining Skinned Friend is a fuller illustration of what is to come, however - post-punk influenced drums clatter, deadpan vocals creating a robotic atmosphere, against which Whang’s whispers provide hints of humanity. It is a series layered synths that really provide the song its melodic anchor however, tones weaving amongst soft pads to create a complex, mechanical combination of sounds. Every Little Thing opens with a clear blue stuttering synth, feeling like we are floating in space. And then Maclean drops a funky as hell bass line - conjuring a retro futurist sound that simultaneously sounds like it is from 1977, and 2037. Tito’s Way is a cacophony of noise - closer to the sort of thing label head James Murphy is known for. Drums collapse into one another, combining with a taut bassline to create a kind of stressful tension. In my view it is here where the album drops down a gear, before coming back with the softly sanded corners of Crush The Liberation’s synths, a kind of heavenly zero attack melody, that take us back into orbit. It is the closer, however, that acts as both the album’s, and Maclean’s career, highlight. At 14-minutes long, it represents almost a third of the entire album. Whenever I rave about this song I find many are left feeling cold by it, but there is a subtle beauty to what Maclean and Whang created. The whole album is an experiment in blending humanity with robotics - something that feels even more relevant in our age of AI than it did on release. Maclean’s synths squeak and shuffle, a series of building tones that swirl amongst themselves, exhibiting enough randomness to feel like a synthetic approximation of humanity. It is the combination of Whang, and a series of melodies from a distant piano, that anchor the song. Like a love letter between robot and person, Whang’s vocal gradually shifts from a spoken deadpan deliver to something more vulnerable and human. “Yeah, there’s something I’ve got to tell you… hey, but I don’t know what to say,” she says, before gradually shifting to sing, “come on over, and dance with me.” It’s like a machine developing consciousness and desire, and altogether it represents an experimental piece of electronic music that is, in and of itself, a commentary on how electronic music contains deep humanity. And in the background is that piano - human, imperfect, yet beautiful.

About 18-months ago I made a commitment to myself to spend more time listening to full albums — both new, and old. The nature of BlackPlastic.co.uk is that I naturally spend a lot of time listening to singles. If I’m not careful, this can lead to me missing out on the widescreen scope of a great album, and so I made a pact to myself — every week I would try to commit to listening to an album, at least a few times, to get under (or back under) the skin of it. I can’t say I’m always successful — work and family can sometimes take up my time (and realistically, energy and headspace), and I suddenly realise I have gone a week or two without doing it. Still, I listen to more albums than I did a few years ago, and in that sense it has been a successful personal commitment. A few months ago, I was making a regular trawl of LinkedIn when something caught my eye — someone I used to work with had launched a website called Sound Club, positioned as like book clubs, but for albums. Having browsed the site for a bit, I decided I would start my own club, focused on music released between 2000 and 2010, at the intersection of dance and rock culture. I named it Disco Pogo For Punks In Pumps, honouring the late and great Jockey Slut (though that crew recently went on to launch a follow-on zine, simply called Disco Pogo — it’s great). Since then, on a semi regular basis, I’ve stuck an album on for the listening pleasure of a small group of followers, and generally written a bit about why I think it is interesting and worth a listen. Sometimes there is discussion, sometimes there isn’t, but I always enjoy re-listening to an album, and writing about it. This week, my club has been featured by Sound Club, and so I want to share it. I’m also planning to start sharing the posts I make there over here, on BlackPlastic. That serves two purposes — a bit of healthy cross-promotion, but also ensuring the writing both lives on, and helps to highlight albums that deserve to be highlighted once again. The current album on the club is The Juan Maclean’s Less Than Human, and I will share the write-up shortly. In the meantime, go and check-out the club here — sign-up to the site, join the club, and let me know what you think of whatever album is playing at the point when you dove in!

Banyan Ether Having appeared on BlackPlastic with their 2023 song, More to Say, Banyan are back with a new slice of blissed-out electronic music in the form of new single Ether. Whilst both Ether and More to Say channel the same rounded, soft synth sound, this new release has a driven feel to the percussion. The result is a song perfectly suited to the moment where the sun touches the Mediterranean horizon. It is reflective, dramatic, and beautiful. Lyrically, Ether deals with the experience of having found someone who you expected to be your person, only to have it fall apart. The song is racked with disappointment, with a chorus focused on the experience of walking on sand in the rain. It isn’t difficult to make the metaphorical leap to sandcastles eroded, like the dreams of a future with someone you had a deep connection with. Talking to Banyan, the duo describe their approach to creating the record in a way that supports and compliments the lyrics, something that feels like it reflects their experience in providing remixes for other artists: ‘We put a lot of love into the nuances and details on this record and took a very delicate and intentional approach while producing the sonic world around the lyrics. We wanted to impart a tinge of hope into the production while being careful to also retain the emotional depth of the lyrics.’ The result is an emotionally charged record, wistful and hurt, yet with an eye to the future, and the potential it holds. In addition to listening in the post, you can find almost all the music BlackPlastic covers on the music player of your choice. Add the dedicated playlist below: Apple Music Spotify

Aaron Title Crave Hailing from Washington DC, Aaron Title is a singer-songwriter, focused on creating lo-fi alt pop, R&B and electronic music. Aaron previously appeared on BlackPlastic back in 2023, with his song New Moon (Riptide). Here on Crave he has a piece of music, written and produced in his bedroom, that combines introspection and an upbeat feeling of momentum. Crave stands out for its clean synth stabs and crisp percussion, which evoke the kind of sounds produced by Fred Again.., Roosevelt and SG Lewis. Title’s vocals come together with this instrumentation to create a kind of melancholic yearning. Disoriented lyrics fall in on themselves, like glimpses of someone on the dance-floor — a fleeting moment of desire, never to be realised. Gentle metallophone-like chimes give the song an organic feeling of warmth, remaining just a beat after the song reaches its conclusion. At just over two-minutes long, Aaron Title has created a slight yet compelling piece of electronic pop. Check it out below. In addition to listening in the post, you can find almost all the music BlackPlastic covers on the music player of your choice. Add the dedicated playlist below: Apple Music Spotify

Playlist · 22 Songs

Nik Brinkman Hypnotherapy Having appeared on BlackPlastic back in December, New Zealand artist Nik Brinkman is mainly focused on guitar-based dream pop, but he is building a reputation on these pages for something a little different. In December, it was a warm and elastic electronic remix of his song Heavy World, but now we have an original dance track, Hypnotherapy, described as a ‘high-energy detour into electronic territory’. Where Heavy World (Remix) was still ultimately an indie pop song at its core, Hypnotherapy is a full on embrace of the hedonistic experience of losing yourself in both the music and a throng of people dancing. The song itself is inspired by a combination of personal memories—Brinkman’s uncle blasting techno from his car—and the nostalgia of rave filtered through a modern lens, by the likes of Underworld, early Jesus Jones, and System7. Brinkman had previously explored electronic, technicolor soundscapes through his Bright Music artist project, but Hypnotherapy pushes further into the darkness. The resulting soundscape is a gloriously energising slab of acid tinged tech house. Bass bubbles as tweaking synths squelch, building towards the track’s warm embrace of a drop, ambient pads surrounding a heavily filtered vocal. It is a moment of love before Brinkman pulls you by the hand back into the swirling cacophony inside his own mind. The result is transcendent — the kind of thing Dan Snaith has made a career out of. Just give me a version twice as long, please.

Nik Brinkman Hypnotherapy Having appeared on BlackPlastic back in December, New Zealand artist Nik Brinkman is mainly focused on guitar-based dream pop, but he is building a reputation on these pages for something a little different. In December, it was a warm and elastic electronic remix of his song Heavy World, but now we have an original dance track, Hypnotherapy, described as a ‘high-energy detour into electronic territory’. Where Heavy World (Remix) was still ultimately an indie pop song at its core, Hypnotherapy is a full on embrace of the hedonistic experience of losing yourself in both the music and a throng of people dancing. The song itself is inspired by a combination of personal memories—Brinkman’s uncle blasting techno from his car—and the nostalgia of rave filtered through a modern lens, by the likes of Underworld, early Jesus Jones, and System7. Brinkman had previously explored electronic, technicolor soundscapes through his Bright Music artist project, but Hypnotherapy pushes further into the darkness. The resulting soundscape is a gloriously energising slab of acid tinged tech house. Bass bubbles as tweaking synths squelch, building towards the track’s warm embrace of a drop, ambient pads surrounding a heavily filtered vocal. It is a moment of love before Brinkman pulls you by the hand back into the swirling cacophony inside his own mind. The result is transcendent — the kind of thing Dan Snaith has made a career out of. Just give me a version twice as long, please.

YouTube video by Democracy Now!

Softmax No ID Featured on BlackPlastic, in 2023, with her growling exploration of disconnection and modern communication, Swishers, the Chicago artist has just released her new single, No ID. With production duties shared between Softmax herself and partner Sam Hudgens, No ID has a similar sound to Swishers, chunky, robotic and dark. Thick, fuzzy guitars come from Cameron Winter collaborator and MGMT guitarist James Richardson, and they provide the skeleton for Softmax’s performance. A product of the system it portrays, No ID is an exploration of the nature of the music industry. Artists have to seek approval and support from a system that encourages inauthenticity, effectively contributing to a disconnect between artist and audience. This theme extends to the song’s artwork, where Softmax sits on the floor, disengaged, as she is photographed in front of a giant print of an image she herself took on her travels. Throughout the song, Softmax repeats the refrain, ‘Nothing I do, will ever be good enough for you’, and yet in doing so she has created an infectious, authentic and, frankly, catchy depiction of the actual reality of being a musician.

Softmax No ID Featured on BlackPlastic, in 2023, with her growling exploration of disconnection and modern communication, Swishers, the Chicago artist has just released her new single, No ID. With production duties shared between Softmax herself and partner Sam Hudgens, No ID has a similar sound to Swishers, chunky, robotic and dark. Thick, fuzzy guitars come from Cameron Winter collaborator and MGMT guitarist James Richardson, and they provide the skeleton for Softmax’s performance. A product of the system it portrays, No ID is an exploration of the nature of the music industry. Artists have to seek approval and support from a system that encourages inauthenticity, effectively contributing to a disconnect between artist and audience. This theme extends to the song’s artwork, where Softmax sits on the floor, disengaged, as she is photographed in front of a giant print of an image she herself took on her travels. Throughout the song, Softmax repeats the refrain, ‘Nothing I do, will ever be good enough for you’, and yet in doing so she has created an infectious, authentic and, frankly, catchy depiction of the actual reality of being a musician.