Year of release: 2017
Six years after causing a buzz on the indie circuit with We Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, underground weirdo John Maus is back with Screen Memories; a lo-fi series of synth-pop excursions that sound, well, exactly like a John Maus record. With his droopy, echo-laden vocals and nonsensical lyrics, Maus channels the sinister and the silly in equal measure, and if Screen Memories feels like more of the same, it's nonetheless a singular achievement. Aside from fellow collaborator Ariel Pink, there isn't anyone else doing this kind of bizarre pastiche pop with such conviction.
Spacey synths loop and weave, the basslines are thick, and Maus's voice often gets lost in a reverb void of celestial waves. The songs consist mostly of a combination of synth-pop and punk rhythms, and the lyrics are knowingly ridiculous, but Maus's spooky delivery and use of baroque keyboards conjures old horror movies. Apparently, Maus even spent two years building his own modular synthesizer.
The biggest takeaway from Screen Memories is that somehow a sonic blender of Max Headroom, Ian Curtis, and Kraftwerk are exactly what we need in 2017. Maus continues to explore outdated modes of melody and texture in a way that many of his supposed retro-pop futurists simply aren't off-kilter enough to master. There's an absurdity to the tone of apocalyptic doom running throughout the album, from the hilariously morbid "Pets" to the glistening death trip of closer "Bombs Away." Perhaps, the idea of laughing in the face of ultimate annihilation is simply the most appropriate response. Either way, Maus will be there; with modular synthesizer and Gothic falsetto in tow.