Style: Neo-prog, bitpop, cybergrind (Mixed vocals, mostly clean)
Recommended for fans of: Sophie, iwrestledabearonce, Electric Callboy
Country: Illinois, United States
Release date: 20 June 2025

Optimism is often mistaken as a delusional kind of positivity, ignoring the negative and replacing it with a happier reality. In truth, optimism is more a mechanism of perseverance in the face of hardship: to the optimist, the nightmares faced are very real and often never-ending, but the inherent joy and excitement of life is too powerful to be weighed down permanently. Such is the perspective of artist Joey Meland, whose most recent release as Cocojoey, STARS, promises to focus on the good while living through inner and outer turmoil. Does STARS leave the listener in awe at its constellations of maximalist eclectic songwriting?

STARS is introduced with heartfelt neo-prog, immediately tapping into the 80s-tinged synth-cheese of Subway darlings Kyros; Meland pushes the euphoric synth work even further than the Brits, however, as opening track “TIME TO GO!” explodes into brilliant colors, charging forward at a manic clip. Japanese influences abound, whether it be the VGM aesthetic in many of the electronic elements (“MIDNIGHT LICKING HOURS”, “hearth<3”) or ultra-energetic j-pop that dances alongside dazzling jazz fusion snippets (“INFUSION BAbY”, “TIME TO GO!”, “COCOJOEY’S LACK OF REGRETS”). Stuttering drum’n’bass moments bubble to the surface on tracks like “THE I LIKE SONG” and “ANOTHER LIFE”, with beats cleverly slipping out of tandem with the rest of the instrumentation for an accented percussive flair. Underneath, a furious cybergrind underbelly occasionally roars to the forefront like an intrusive thought, sending these saccharine passages into abject chaos.

Meland’s approach to songwriting can most succinctly be described as the sound of tearing the absolute fuck out of a room covered in glitter, shattering glass in unbridled rage and admiring the iridescent refraction caused by the shrapnel. Ultra-melodic and ultra-intense ideas often exist within seconds of each other, inexorably locked together as a fundamental part of composition. Sometimes, the transitions from bitpop to cybergrind are effortless and smooth (“TIME TO GO!”) and sometimes they are a violent bass-heavy cudgel (“ANOTHER LIFE”). The experience is always fun and full of earworms, but can become overwhelming at times, like being fed a series of ultra-technicolor light shows Clockwork Orange-style only interrupted by abrupt visits to a human-sized centrifuge. “TIME TO SPARE”, for example, grafts shiny staccato fusion chords to impenetrable walls of abrasive blast beats, shrieking howls, and shrill synthesizers. To help balance the intensity, tracks like “TRUST IN EVENTS” temper their instrumental vigor, and two palate cleansers, “hearth<3” and “TINY SPRITE IN THE ORCHESTRA OF STARS”, help to imbue a sense of triumph and carefree placidity. Additionally, Meland will often telegraph central melodic ideas throughout a track to give the listener a compositional foothold.

Despite the almost inhuman level of effervescent melodicism, there is an utter sense of relatability to STARS’ compositions, the lyricism standing at their nexus. Meland lays bare their myriad frustrations with life and the challenges of staying optimistic in a world that constantly beats you down. Most immediately striking is “TRUST IN EVENTS”, which showcases the oxymoronic nature of desiring life despite being so absolutely tired of it: ‘Yet I wonder why my time alive is so intense / cause it’s been taking / It’s taking everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and everything and every effort now to / Keep looking ahead but living in a moment’. 

A delicate vulnerability shines through across STARS, making sure to balance the dread with an equal amount of optimism and love. “MIDNIGHT LICKING HOURS” is a contemplation of the inner life of Meland’s cat, Coco, and the value of a relaxed, carefree lifestyle; “THE I LIKE SONG” is a centering mantra that brings into perspective all the things that make life worth living, stating ‘I’ll recite this and I’ll remember all the times I thought it was worth / Sticking out through one more night’; and “TINY SPRITE IN THE ORCHESTRA OF STARS” is a heartfelt dedication to a loved one that gently guides the listener across a 16-bit galaxy.

The coalescence of lyrical duality and songwriting extremes exemplifies a singular focus in STARS’ point of view. “COCOJOEY’S LACK OF REGRETS” is a centerpiece of the record’s perspective: Meland gets personal about their experience with having Crohn’s Disease and how it affects their interactions with the world at large. 90s club-inspired piano beats deconstruct under the weight of glitchy electronics and frenetic cybergrind: ‘I already feel like shit / And I’m made to feel worse for it / Invasive thoughts, invisible illness’. The track cleverly juxtaposes an ineffable queerness with a roiling inner frustration—the digestive issues associated with Crohn’s have a profound impact and limitation on sexual expression, and its status as an ‘invisible illness’ often leads to invalidation at the hands of peers because ‘you don’t look sick’. And this is to mention nothing of the horrific mistreatment by healthcare companies who put disabled people through the wringer just so they have a basic chance at life, the track calling out Centene in particular as a predatory corporation that ‘takes advantage of sick people’. 

What the fuck is even up with that, anyway? Who decided it was okay to keep adding on to an impossibly complicated system that requires people who are already at a disadvantage to jump through inscrutable hoops for even the prospect of a life without debilitating challenges? On top of that, we are constantly put through stressors that our minds are SIMPLY. NOT. DESIGNED. FOR. DO YOU THINK THAT IT’S NORMAL FOR PEOPLE TO BE COGNIZANT EVERY SINGLE DAY TO THREATS THAT ARE COMPLETELY OUTSIDE OF OUR CONTROL AND IMPOSSIBLE TO EVEN UNDERSTAND? OUR WORLD IS A MINEFIELD OF ANXIETY AND THREAT THAT IS SO FAR BEYOND ANYTHING THAT EVOLUTION COULD HAVE PREPARED US FOR. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION AT FULL CAPACITY ALL DAY EVERY DAY WHEN EVERY WAKING MOMENT IS A REMINDER OF HOW EVERYTHING I CARE ABOUT CAN BE UNCEREMONIOUSLY RIPPED AWAY FROM ME BY FORCES I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND BECAUSE I DON’T SUBSCRIBE TO NEUROTYPICAL AND HETERONORMATIVE IDEALS? I JUST WANT TO FUCKING EXIST WITHOUT HAVING TO ACTIVELY FIGHT AGAINST MY MIND AND AGAINST EVERYTHING ELSE TO FUNCTION IN ANY MEANINGFUL WAY IN A WORLD NOT DESIGNED FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME.

…..

Suddenly, the hyper-melodic j-pop and technicolor excess feels much less cutesy, as if its main purpose is as a last bastion of idealism and escapism in a pervasive fight against forces out of our control. The glistening melodies hold back a volcanic fury that builds in pressure when we’re left to reflect on the injustices imposed on us. One also gets a sense of artistic expression as a means of exhaust, channeling life experience from the artist’s interior world into something with a life of its own—its placement outside of the mind both gives it less power over the artist and serves as a beacon to those who relate. In most cases, the catharsis is felt fully, but “ANOTHER LIFE” and “ODD EYE SLIDE” leave a bit to be desired compositionally, leaning into the record’s excess without giving enough focus to latch onto. The most successful example of artistic exhaust is “COCOJOEY’S LACK OF REGRETS”, where the theme is established early. Meland proclaims that they ‘got pissed and wrote this track’ in its opening moments, and across the piece’s runtime, they come to terms with their circumstances: ‘Didn’t choose this life, but now it’s mine / I’ll never give up, I do my best / Break it down with my kitty ‘til my final rest’. “REGRETS” ends with a powerful proclamation, spitting in the face of those who try to put them down: ‘you can’t make me regret my existence’.

STARS utilizes song structure, texture, melody, and intensity as a meta-commentary on the inner life of a disabled queer person, taking both the good and bad in stride; the end result is a glittering canvas designed to channel and purge the abject exhaust of life by any means necessary. In the closing seconds of “TIME TO SPARE”, all of the anger, glitz, and pretense that coalesces across STARS is flushed down the toilet as ideas are chopped and screwed into oblivion, rendered into an unrecognizable soup of wiggly air before suddenly cutting off. And at the end of the day, flushing out the overwhelm is often the best course of action—the human experience is too rich and full of excitement and love and happiness to forsake the things that bring us joy.

Recommended tracks: COCOJOEY’S LACK OF REGRETS, TIME TO GO!, THE I LIKE SONG, hearth<3
You may also like: Kyros, Bubblegum Octopus, Joey Frevola, PhonoPaths
Final verdict: 8.5/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

Label: Hausu Mountain Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Cocojoey is:
– Joey Meland (everything)
With guests:
– Stop Motion Plant Choir (vocals, track 2)
– Coco (meows, tracks 2, 3, 6)
– Floricane (vocals, track 6)
– Angel Marcloid (guitars, track 2)

The post Review: Cocojoey – STARS appeared first on The Progressive Subway.

Style: Experimental Rock, Post-rock (instrumental)
Recommended for fans of: Battles, Tool, Bull of Heaven
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 25 October 2024

Aesthetics is one of the most fundamental and easy to understand features of art: even with no training, I can tell whether I think something is pretty or ugly, and despite a surface-level simplicity, aesthetics can be a powerful tool to articulate complex emotions. Take Sumac’s The Healer, which spends most of its runtime indulging in fairly ugly ideas in the name of hope and optimism, turning aesthetics on its head in a way that is compelling and enjoyable. However, ugly aesthetics in the wrong hands can easily lead to disaster, as evidenced by today’s subject of review, Body Meπa’s Prayer in Dub, a release that eagerly foregoes consonance and other “traditionally pleasant” ideas in the name of chromaticism and experimentation with little payoff. Let’s discuss.

Body Meπa’s musical style is oxymoronic in nature, simultaneously indulging in jazzy improvisation and extensive repetition within a post-rock framework: a core background idea will lay the foundation of a track and repeat it indefinitely while other instruments explore around it, a role usually taken up by electronic soundscapes in the form of dire synthesizers, electronic pulsation, or metallic industrial grinding (“Etel,” “Adnan,” “Stones”). In theory, this songwriting approach is intriguing, especially as someone who thrives on repetitive soundscapes, but its execution here proves to be challenging at best and profoundly frustrating at worst, as despite the lack of radical changes within a track, it is nearly impossible to glean narrative structure within Prayer in Dub’s weaponized aesthetics.

Even from Prayer in Dub’s introductory moments, the listener is assaulted with ideas that do not agree with each other at all: the only mental imagery that I can muster from its pieces is the interaction of instrumentals that all hate each other. Sounds clash together in horrifically ugly ways, whether it be the chromatic guitar notes that standoffishly bounce off the underlying soundscape (“Etel”), drums aggressively building up into nothing as their climax is totally ignored by the rest of the instrumentation (“Scout”), or the grating interplay of harsh industrial noises and what can only be described as an overblown jazz flute sound (“Stones”).

The worst offender of all, though, is second track “Adnan,” which pushes Prayer in Dub’s negative facets to their limits: “Adnan” is introduced with a pulsating electronic noise which is at first somewhat pleasant and relaxing, but as the track progresses, the pulsating gets more and more intense, creating a sonic strobe light effect in the process. What began as something relaxing very quickly turned into absolute sensory overload, pummeling any instrumentation that may be underneath and overwhelming any remaining musical ideas to the point of unlistenability. For most of its runtime, it’s nearly impossible to hear anything outside of its oppressive electronic warbling, and when the pulsating finally capitulates in its latter moments, it’s replaced with equally annoying industrial sounds before once again punishing the listener with its original soundscape. Worst of all, the ideas underneath aren’t necessarily bad and would make a good showcase for some of the more listenable improvisation, but its execution leaves it all washed away under a sea of relentless electronic waves.

However, it would be unfair to say that it’s all unenjoyable and frustrating: the opening moments of “Scout” nicely balance repetition and improvisation by using a fully formed musical idea as its backdrop and building on it with some fun drum work. In its later moments, it begins to lose a bit of focus and fall back into amorphous rambling à la “Etel,” and I wish that it ended less suddenly, but at the very least there is a glimmer of interest present. I would struggle to call “Scout” compelling, but it is well and beyond the most convincing of Prayer in Dub’s pieces and comes the closest to a fully constructed song. Moreover, “Welcome” is a relatively chilled out piece with some pretty chords, and there are moments of “Deborah” that are enjoyable as the laid-back bluesy improvisation creates an air of relaxation, both of which are so desperately needed after the cortisol shot that is “Adnan.” However, these moments are not enough to save Prayer in Dub’s glaring songwriting flaws.

And that, I think, pins down Prayer in Dub’s underlying problem: no amount of repetition can save improvisation that has no backbone, and no amount of experimentation can stop a song without a core idea from falling into formless amalgamation. No matter how closely I listen, there’s almost nothing to hold on to, a feeling augmented by Prayer in Dub’s positively challenging chromaticism, grating textural choices, and inscrutable, amorphous song structures. I will admit that it’s not wholly irredeemable and there’s a good chance that I simply just don’t get Body Meπa’s point of view, but as it is, Prayer in Dub takes the “two extremes” approach to its limit: it’s simultaneously repetitive yet improvisational, simple yet unfocused, and frustrating yet utterly forgettable.

Recommended Tracks: Deborah, Scout
You may also like: Simulacra, Samlrc, NORD, The Mercury Tree
Final verdict: 3/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify

Label: Hausu Mountain Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Body Meπa is:
– Greg Fox (drums)
– Sasha Frere-Jones (guitar)
– Melvin Gibbs (bass)
– Grey McMurray (guitar)

The post Review: Body Meπa – Prayer in Dub appeared first on The Progressive Subway.