I like Soko, she ranges from Gallic manic-depresso-girl-punk with Nico-esque deep drone vocals al the way to alt-folk with an electro edge, and a deep soulful command of lyrics and melody. The accent doesn’t hurt her charm either.
The last time I had an electric guitar in my hands and a headful of booze and pills I jumped up and down ahem…’singing’ (Ok…so more screeching?) Temporary Mood Swings.
Soko is fun. She might not seem fun, but anyone who can pull off the dog collar and leash, get soapy and loud and fast and pull off Temporary Mood Swings might be my dictionary definition of the concept. I suppose it was 2015. Everything was more fun in 2015 than it is in 2021, lets face it. The ’20s are shit, and we are collectively sliding into the big ole two suns in the sunset final act, as far as I can see. Maybe the men need to let women have a go at running things, unfettered by testosterone we might have a hope in the hell that is modern life, of actually you know, fixing shit.
Some shit can’t be fixed, I guess. I hadn’t listened to ‘For Marlon’ for a while. Oh Soko! When I hear her sing “I thought I knew back then to never ever trust /Someone for who drugs come first./ And I think there’s no love/ But just proof of love And you’ve just proved me/ That you’d never care”
Listen to Auntie P, that emotional blackmail schtick never works, Soko. You can’t drag someone else out of addiction using love and pouting, and I hate to sound like an NA workbook, but no one can get sober for someone else. They either do it for themselves, or else you are left responsible for them emotionally and physically. Their sobriety is then utterly dependent on your love, your presence and your support, and you will be drained to the dregs of your own energy and time and soul. I know, I have been both the drain and the one being emptied of all compassion and empathy.
Sometimes you have to just cut your losses, which you won’t have to do if you give Soko’s first few albums a listen, they are beautiful and diverse.