Somewhere Between Hate and Muffins: An experiment-like review for an experimental album.

Observations

Muffins: Warm. Fluffy. Sweet.

Hate: Cold, black, and infinite.

Hypothesis

Somewhere Between Hate and Muffins is a void of nothingness.

The positive and negative attributes of each pole will cancel each other out.

Findings

Somewhere Between Hate and Muffins is chaos. Grime and chaos. Part scuddy drum n bass from the old school of thought, you know, before Darude ruined “techno” forever by becoming Pop. Part Found-Art. Somewhere between music and harsh noise.

But I was prepared for that. I’ve fallen down this rabbit hole before. I’ve submerged myself in a bathtub and entered the mind of the beast, so to properly dissect Songs for Sea Lions. I’ve traipsed through the Garden of Sweden. I’ve mourned Harambe, the Big Gorilla.

To the enlightened observer, Social Shun is either a genius auteur, or a raving lunatic. His latest work either the ramblings of a madman, or a magnum opus from a higher level of human intellect. Perhaps it is somewhere in between. A baked good with a boot print.

To the majority, the Spotify generation who gave their freedom away for a monthly subscription, this album is going to be an unlistenable mess. But they can’t hear that beneath the distortion, there is structure, effort and thought. Their mainstream has conditioned them not to listen.

I’ve seen the real Social Shun, or at least a mirage of the man. Because I’ve been there. They’re just an artist with a day job, someone that wants their songs to be heard. Held back by the bouncer-like gatekeepers of stardom because their artistic vision doesn’t fit into the Capitalistic model of the arts.

Since they’re excluded from that exclusive society, they continue doing what they do, without the “coaching” of the creative criticism that comes with listenership. No one can teach you how to be more mainstream if no one is listening, right? And if no one is listening, why bother reaching for the unattainable model of perfection? Why not just do what feels good?

It’s hard not to make a personal record when you’re potentially only making it for yourself as escapism from the mundane, yet SBH&M feels like a more personal album. Perhaps it’s because this time it isn’t made for the consumption of ocean wildlife. Perhaps it’s the choice of Found-Art segues – the literal ramblings of a madman discussing rebates, the child reciting rhyme, Social Shun describing their creative process over a filthy beat, begging to be heard.

I heard you, big guy. Here’s your creative criticism. Keep doing it. Continue the experiment. You represent the ground level of musicianship. Unrefined, but also untainted by the industry. You may never get famous, but you’re doing your own thing, and others aren’t always going to understand. But it was never for them, was it? If it were, I’d be hearing Pop music out of you, and then I wouldn’t be listening.

2/5 stars from the industry. 5/5 stars from me, for not being part of it, and not giving me the same recycled rubbish to review.

Review written by Peter-James Dries

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