Cut The Noise Issue #1

The digital landscape is vast and loud and buzzing.

As the Web Department at WHIP, this space is where we spend most of our time. While we love our virtual home for music journalism, sometimes you need to cut the noise for true shelter. Reaching beyond the digital, welcome to our first-ever zine.

Inside, you’ll find snippings of our department’s musical engagements over the past semester, many of which are exclusive to print. Centering around local music, Philly, and collaboration, we hope you find refuge in our collage of content.

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AN INTERVIEW WITH ZAYNA FROM SWEET PILL

By Sofia Mehmood

One thing people always no�ce a�er seeing Sweet Pill for the first �me is your stage presence. Who would you say are your biggest inspira�ons for your on-stage persona?

Well, I mean, let’s get the obvious out of the way—I love Hayley Williams from Paramore. I love Anthony Green, vocally. Kimbra is such a fantas�c performer because she layers her voice as an instrument and sings to it. I also love Aaron Weiss from mewithoutYou. I feel like I do a lot of swinging of the arms like that.

A huge part of Sweet Pill's iden�ty as a band is your live show, but you didn't have access to that for a long period while wri�ng this album. Did that have an effect on how these songs came to be?

It's funny because when I first started making music in bands I was a drummer singing, so I didn't even get to move. But then I started Sweet Pill and the pandemic started literally like not even a year later. Y’know it's funny because I didn't move that, that much when we first started but I think the more and more we played, the more explosive the songs started to become. When we played in front of a crowd for the first �me a�er the pandemic, I remember we all were itching for the next thing, so I think that’s when we all started to be even more energe�c.

Was there something specific that mo�vated the decision to only s�ck to vocals for Sweet Pill and not play any instruments?

Singing is my absolute, 100%, most favorite thing to do and I only learned how to play other instruments so I can sit there and record myself in the basement. I would write guitar, bass, and drum tracks and record it just so I could sit there and write lyrics. If I have the choice to only sing, I will only sing. I don't even have a microphone stand because I want nothing in the way.

Poet Hanif Abdurraqib heavily praised your album saying, "I love a debut album as a kind of series of revela�ons." In a lot of ways, Where the Heart Is is a coming of age. What did you learn about yourself while wri�ng this album? Do you find that these songs are taking on different meanings as your band con�nues to grow? Yes. They’re almost 2-3 years old now. Some of it's about people that don't even exist in my life anymore, but the feeling is stuck in that �meline of growing up. I look back on it and I can iden�fy that feeling and then I can apply it in the future and be like, “This is what this is.” The first song, “Where the Heart Is,” is about a 9 to 5 and it was my first one. I was like, “This is how life is supposed to be,” and now I'm like, “No it's not.” I'm figuring that out right now. I'm figuring out that you can do so much more, and it's literally being proven. It's kinda crazy that the song is helping me prove that.

Obviously, now that you have the live show they probably mean something else too now that you're able to get that audience feedback. Yeah! It means so much to so many different people. That’s what was so cool about this tour—mee�ng all these people and their takes on it. And I didn’t even know they existed.

AN INTERVIEW WITH HEATLOAF

BY EVA AGABEGI

Following the release of their first music video for their song, “fireman,” I got the chance to chat with Margot, Beck, Pax, and Raven of Heatloaf to discuss new music and music videos, origins of the band, performing live, musical inspira�ons, and the group’s songwri�ng process. This is just a taste of our conversa�on, so be sure to check out the full interview at the QR code to the right!

Eva: You all just released the music video for “fireman” on the two-year anniversary of its release. What was it like to create your first music video?

Beck: It was a ride. It was really fun once we actually got to it. The planning was a bit difficult—just coordinating with our friend Tony who did it and was also still in school.

Margot: We filmed it last November so it was a very long process, but I’m just glad we got to put it out on a date that was relevant. It was definitely a lot of work. But yeah really thankful to see all the super nice responses to it too. I felt like it was really well received. I wasn’t expecting people to really care that much about it. Once it was done it was really fun to have it out but the process of getting there was pretty stressful.

Eva: What is your crea�ve process like? Are there certain ar�sts you tend to pull inspira�on from?

Margot: Yeah, so, I write all of the music. I like to work by myself mainly. I think it’s very much a comfort thing. I’m not super confident in myself so I’d rather not have someone watch me do things. As for inspiration, definitely Dear Nora, Emily Yacina, Frankie Cosmos. Maybe more recent ones I really like are Hovvdy and Slow Pulp. I would like to say Big Thief but that’s a big one. Just very softy nice rock music that isn’t too scary.

Beck: Yeah, Margot sends us little demos that are almost fully realized songs when she’s sending it to us but then we all come up with our own thing and then once we come together we can fine tune stuff. Margot usually writes everything but Raven has been coming up with her own drum parts. Pax is a really talented guitarist, obviously. I’ve recently started understanding how to make up my own basslines and stuff.

Ylayali - Separa�on

Review wri�en by

Samantha Sullivan

We’d all be sort of lying if we said we weren’t fascinated by our dreams. I mean, let’s be honest, the amount of books, blogs, and random analysis that we do about recurring nightmares or the way you wake up and can’t shake whatever you saw makes you stop and think. It’s allegedly your subconscious, it’s maybe a manifesta�on of whatever is stressing you out, but for the Philly shoegaze ou�it Ylayali (Francis Lyons) it’s a concept album.

A lush blend of orchestral instrumenta�on and haun�ng lyricism, Ylayalis’ (AKA Free Cake For Every Creature, current drummer for 2nd Grade) 2022 Separation came about a�er his therapist suggested that maybe there’s a li�le bit more to his dreams than the rolodex of randomness we o�en get swept up in. The follow up to 2021’s blindingly beau�ful Magic Eye, he wrote the album as an interac�on with a nameless character that had been fli�ng through his dreams.

Embodying that half-awake haze that comes with deciphering what happened in your sleep versus the waking world, the album has the sort of ethereal shine that makes you wonder what’s real life. Whether it’s the hushed vocals on “Burnt Axiom’’ as he recounts his father’s eyes or the tolling of bells on “Green Walls,’’ it has you double checking everything you think about reality. Even the seemingly disconcerted imagery of the closing track “Air” lends itself to the bedheaded confusion that persists through the jangly synths and tamborines.

There’s a sort of lived in feeling like when you just wake up on a Sunday with nothing to do and can see the blush sunset star�ng to break. It ushers in an unprecedented comfort only accessible through the flashes of sheer magic that falls in that misty inbetween.

The Riko and Whaler Collective at Over Yonder

Wallace, Tonight! at Over Yonder

Photos by Olivia G. Roque

Annabelle Oyl at Grouvier

Jet Fuel Soda at Grouvier

Photos by Olivia G. Roque

Gunner Spaeth of The Palace

@baron_von_gunther

Shot by Erika Cutaia

On “Paint by #” by Shannen Moser

By Eva Agabegi

Shannen Moser exhibits their ethereal songwriting style with the release of “Paint by #,” the first single off of their third studio album, The Sun Still Seems to Move. The track carries a strong folk essence, combining both woodwind and slow string influences, that evokes the dreamy, whimsical feel the song possesses. There’s no better way to describe the warmth the opening of the song holds than the feeling of taking a serene walk through nature and escaping into a new-found dreamland. The song compares life’s little moments to that of a paint-by-number, “a series of quiet moments make forever.” Its lyrics explore the light and darkness within life experiences and the appreciation of those who make the hard times worth enduring. The lyrics, “Excavating fantasy blueprint, you’re my family/ Like a humming in the wind, to me the song you sing again,” depict the way in which those who shape who we are in our earlier years of living are always present in molding us into our future selves. Moser spawns an incredibly emotional piece with calming acoustic instrumentation that adds to its nostalgic feel.

The song takes the spot of the remarkably powerful opening track on The Sun Still Seems to Move, an album that wanders through Moser’s journey of grief and self-discovery, while continuing to trek through the trials and tribulations of life. “Paint by #”’s simplistic production and vivid lyricism are how the track masters the sense of vulnerability reflected within the rest of the album.

Photo from www.concertarchives.com

Reeling from the effects of a pandemic-induced, internet-sanctioned global solitude, the scope of social interaction has been reduced to a room. As human connection rests in your fatigued hands, a friend lives on each fingertip. But the rise and fall of Twitter should caution us to the unsustainability of purely virtual discourse. Like the mechanical wings of Daedalus, social media’s promise of connection ignores the hot sun it approaches.

I suppose this analogy makes patchymate the ill-fated Icarus. Like the work of their contemporaries, patchymate’s music is engulfed in the flames of internet culture. Their newest release, SMS, speaks to the thrills and challenges of connecting in the digital age. Restless and sincere, “I just wanna clear something up” struggles to reconcile personal and social identities. As patchymate sings, “By your definitions I don’t match your perfect image,” their confident delivery disguises a hidden insecurity. Do I really not care what other people think, or is that a lie I say to protect myself?

As with 2021’s Avian, SMS features tantalizing guitars, shimmering synths, dynamic vocal melodies, and powerful drums. In between these elements, patchymate fills space with stardust, employing hyperpop techniques that are simultaneously eccentric and reserved. The chromatic drive of “Soul wants out” smartly gives way to a bouncy half time as patchymate recounts the comfort of moving back home, “Man, it felt pretty good to have another one understand where you’re coming from, no lies.”

For all its punk expression and ambitious production, patchymate’s music is ultimately a conversation—a back and forth of thoughts and melodies. Like a pinball machine, insecurities bounce into passions and fall into harmony. Through the drama of the first two tracks, the final song “SMS” is a last-ditch effort at connection. Isolated in our rooms, “call me on discord” is the sort of refrain the whole world can understand.

CHUCK ACID

The NeverEnding Mixtape: Vol 2.5

“The unlikely story con�nues,” reads the website for 25-yearold Philadelphia rapper Chuck Acid. This is presumably in reference to his NeverEnding Mixtape series, which reached its second (and a half) volume on September 5, 2022, but this statement is surely based upon Chuck’s life as a whole. His energe�c catalog of music reveals a story of perseverance, each project a new chapter. Rooted in sample-based beats that range from alterna�ve trap to classic boom-bap produc�on, Chuck Acid’s mixtapes are enthusias�c medita�ons on what it takes to realize your dreams and escape a cycle of poverty.

The NeverEnding Mixtape : Vol 2.5 naturally opens with “Intro.” Chopped plucks reverberate into the void as Chuck prepares his speech. He hums and harmonizes before jumping into the verse with a harsh, distorted tone. Simultaneously, 808 hi-hats begin to ji�er in the background and soon a kick similarly crushed in distor�on crashes into the track. Chuck spends �me reminiscing on childhood summers when days felt like they might never end. Snapped back by the realiza�on that his friends are now fathering children, Chuck understands that sipping Minute Maid at the backyard barbecue is the least of his worries nowadays.

Chuck is clearly somebody who is not afraid to reach for the stars. Unsa�sfied by the beaten path he was given, he understands how people become pathologically affected by their environments, and he ac�vely makes an effort to challenge preconceived no�ons of what he’s capable of due to his financial condi�ons. It is on 2.5’s second track, “Dreams,” where Chuck implores his listeners to hold onto hopes that keep us moving forward. Underscored by a chipmunk-soul sample, Chuck recounts aspira�ons that he and his friends shared, and reflects on the funerals of those who were never able to realize their ambi�ons. “Dreams” is a subdued dedica�on to people who have been lost in their journey towards be�er days and a rallying cry to those who have the strength to never give up.

But it isn’t all doom and gloom for Chuck. On more than a few occasions on 2.5, listeners will find the vibes corrected towards posi�ve affirma�ons. “Homebase,” with its dry surf rock guitar loops and driven 808 bassline, affords Chuck the opportunity to puff his chest out. Backing himself on the mic, Chuck delves into the details of what makes him special in lines like, “They know that Chucky the medicine, I just work on the messaging.” U�lizing one of the best instrumentals on the album, “Homebase” is an exercise in the art of killing a track.

S�ll, 2.5’s most impressive song might be its heaviest. Nowhere does Chuck sound more hungry than on the heart-wrenching “Therapy.” Featuring the album’s most soulful instrumental, Chuck communicates how family trauma made him who he is, and in-turn relays what he was able to learn from the lumps. Recoun�ng nights living with an abusive father over a beau�fully chopped soul ballad, Chuck is able to divulge how wri�ng lyrics allowed him to finally cope, giving him a space where he could safely “speak” and “bleed.” He takes pride in the way his music has touched his fans, and is apprecia�ve of the greater value it adds to his life. But in the end, Chuck knows very well that you could “spit that bulletproof truth and s�ll they shoot you.”

Chuck Acid’s NeverEnding Mixtape 2.5 is a �reless romp characterized by bouncy sample flips and genuine emo�ons. It’s an enjoyable ride designed to be looped into eternity. Rarely does a mixtape like this inject so much heart and levity into its run�me, but Chuck’s resolve to deliver an enjoyable project that s�ll finds �me to tackle such affec�ng subject ma�er makes him a voice to keep an ear out for in the Philly rap scene.

A review wri�en by Dylan

Stevens

*after Knifeplay’s “Promise” you’re born into a home, a hearthless land and you are what you are a worm, a creature, a worthwhile promise to do better than to be better than really, it’s a call to roots landing on your feet and not stopping there sinking deeper through the mud until you’re a member born into

i’d like to think the ground we cover is innately stable but animals drown in mud the same as water planting a prophecy for a future past—past future— illness tilling the soil our offspring wander

Photos by Erika Cutaia

2022 Philly Releases

Philly is the city of music, filled with so many talented artists. The WHIP staff and members are putting the spotlight on them by appreciating their creativity and sound. Take a listen and enjoy what Philly is about!

Compiled by: Daysha Williams

Playlist contributions from: Daysha Williams, John Peterson, Sofia Mehmood, Will Kirkpatrick, Esther Landis, Fletcher Gamwell, Erika Cutaia, Jake Zook, and Olivia Roque

Physical media is a time capsule of touchable, hearable memory.

Bring down the needle, insert the cd, and listen from start to finish. The routine of it.

Let the dust entrail the hand and blow specs from the grooves as you rescue sounds from the lands of time. Scour for pickups in the most dilapidated stacks. There is something very nice about seeing a worn jacket. There is history in those marks. Ill conditions are aged with love. Here are some of my favorite spots to start your own stack of memory.

- Erika Cutaia @_theworldspins_