Mary Kate and Trashley – Make a Record

Mary Kate and Trashley - Make a Record


Imagine yourself sitting in your living room alone, there’s carpeting and a collection of records. You’re sipping a cold brew and it’s a peaceful evening. You pop in Mary Kate and Trashley’s debut album Make a Record, take a bong hit (because you’re Canadian, duh) and you get thrown into a spiral of neon colours. Pink and yellow and green flash before your eyes and your heart smiles in delight and delicate disorientation. If there was anything that sparked inspiration and joy in the span of fewer than seven minutes, it’s this. Alexander Scaglia, drummer of The Florals, makes an extremely cute entrance to the solo project realm, flaunting his unique take on indie DIY music.

Initiating this short strange trip is twenty-five seconds of noise. If you’ve never heard of noise as a music genre, I suggest you check out Scant’s best work Contrary To Reason, because it’s a great place to start. So, it’s pretty impressive that an indie artist could grasp the concept so sweetly, really focusing on an unnerving but also meditative tone for a first track on a debut solo album.

Following this weird introduction, we’re propelled into a bubbly sound-effected tune called “Compression” where you feel like you’re in the middle of a recording session, scattered with details of record scratches and tiny background noises. Briskly followed by a cleaner felt “Crush”, and the once sentenced tune “I Don’t Like U Much.” So straightforward that I wish I knew who it’s about. It goes without saying that the second to last, “Noonan,” is a love story about someone else’s mom, a neighbour, the hottest and sweetest mom on your street. She’ll never go for you because you’re her kid’s friend, but you know she loves you too. Move over Stacy’s mom, Mrs. Noonan has our hearts now. Last tune “Spaceship” feels like a The Beatles-induced tribute to everything purely mind-bending. Is it an invitation to go flying in a spaceship? Yes, it is.

The most wonderful part of this album is not it’s individual tracks, but it’s intelligent form of psychological play. There is an inexplicable feeling that you get while playing/listening, where your existence stops, and you surrender wholly to the experience. Its anatomy is so seamless and smooth, it makes my soul grow and wonder of other times and spaces. Simplistic and adorable genius that makes a listener open their mind, like someone’s daydreaming doodles turned into a piece of music. Albums like this are few and far between, where artists use the integrity of a record in its wholeness to expose a true form of art; total raw flow of ideas. This is about the communication between maker and receiver, and whether that’s what the artist intended or not, it’s what is felt quite thoroughly. Best seven minutes of my musical month.

Written by Talia Plante
*edited by Mike Milito

About Talia Plante 36 Articles
A classically trained pianist from the Laval suburbs, Talia sees no other clear path in life other than her passion for music. An experienced music teacher and social bird, she seizes any opportunity to be with others. Being an avid psychonaut and lover of emotional connection, she can often be found at parties of any variety, likely rubbing her face on cats she’s allergic to, or somehow slipping into conversation that black metal and baroque music are really just close cousins. Her lifetime favourites include Black Sabbath and Liszt, and anything even remotely psychedelic, doom, or stoner-like. Her current dreams are to become the modern day Mary Poppins (umbrella and children’s laughter included), buy a van to drive across any drive-able land, and spread sunshine wherever she goes. If spotted in the wild, the best way to make her smile is to ask her anything…or offer some cheese.

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