Now this is some pop music I can fuck with.
Pop is a strange genre. Straight up? Part of it is absolutely contemptible. It can represent some of the worst parts of humanity. Many in a certain age group and ideology cringe, squirm, and wince before aggressively saddling their high horses when this word is uttered. To these social cowboys, the genre symbolizes the evils of capitalism and its hold on a younger generation. You can identify these musical six-shooters because they talk about this shit incessantly. “The genre lied to millions,” they’ll say as they squint into a setting sun and chew through a piece of wheat, “It turned 10-year-olds into sex symbols and sells clothing made in sweatshops.” Listening to this genre is to support everything that’s wrong in the world to the musical buckaroos. Everyone else? Doesn’t give a fuck. Sorry audio-cowpoke, you had your day in the sun. Time to get off that high horse, throw down that DVD director’s cut of Fight Club (seriously? There’s streaming services now), and take a listen to this dreaded musical classification because lots of it is fucking great. Time to hang up that hat. Pop is just a musical style now. That’s it.
Arone Dyer and Aron Sanchez are the names behind Buke and Gase. They make experimental pop music and it’s fantastic. This album is pumped full of energy and experimentation. Listening to it energizes the fuck out of me. It makes me want to run. Where? I have no fucking clue and it doesn’t matter. I can’t help but move my body in some way when I listen to it. It makes me wanna dance like a 16-year-old with a freshly faked ID at the club. The songwriting seems to be done in a moment-to-moment basis similar to modern Nine Inch Nails but if they took a fuckton of Ecstasy (aka DTF/NIN/MDMA). Shit sounds like Imogen Heap on an acid trip.
Dyer and Sanchez got their names from the instruments they used to play (Bass + ukulele = Buke. Guitar + Bass = Gase). Thank fuck they put down those instruments and picked up some electronic gear. Sure they sounded good before, but there’s something very telling about this decision. Artists willing to change the things that used to define them are, generally, artists with something to fucking say. Buke and Gase put down their namesake instruments and ventured out into the strange world of pop. In the process they made something enthusiastic, musically gymnastic, and drastically anti-bombastic dressed up in a shitton of colourful spandex (wait what?). In short, they made pop music so fun and bizarre it’s rebellious. So, go ahead and throw rocks at this genre or its artists. Just be aware that nothing ages worse than an asshole. Shit has wrinkles the day you’re born.