by Zak Mercado (@ciaoguaglione)
On Wicked Jaw, Christina Schneider’s most recent bundle of pop songs under the moniker Locate S,1, the artist tows the line between blissed-out bubblegum and biting, lightly psychedelic social commentary in delightfully subtle ways. The record ultimately excels at surveying genre on its own terms and presenting lyrics both cryptically and full-frontally déshabillé.
Wicked Jaw is just as introspective as it looks outwards into the world. On “You Were Right About One Thing,” the machinations of a relationship and pieces of conversations are taken to heart. There is a sense that there is an unreliable narrator here, or, at least, the narrator doesn’t trust themself. “Wrote all my worst fears down when I conjured you.” “Your worst half still haunts me when I’m weak/But you were right about one thing/I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” One can imagine a quarrel in a relationship leading to one party, after the fact, admitting the other person was right. On the other hand, admitting such a perceived pivotal circumstance feels like full-throated sarcasm. If it’s the latter, the contrast with the sweet, yet slightly melancholic tone of the song perfectly aligns and contrasts with the lyric.
Another high of the album is the 70s rock qua 60s pop song “The Hard Way.” The intro, verses, and bridge play like a Tom Petty or early Steely Dan tune. The song then pays off with brilliant dividends, shifting gears to a groovy, tambourine shaking danceable chorus. The lyrics convey reluctant desires and heartbreak of a particular intimate relationship: “I thought we were friends, but you broke me open/I don’t want to lose my life, I kinda need a kind word.” The melancholy of the lyrics perfectly aligns with this jubilant chorus and requires repeat listening.
The record’s exploration of genres at times feels reminiscent of MGMT or Foxygen projects. However, about a decade on from those groups’ great records, this album feels less interested in the nostalgia through production or sonic palate. It, instead, uses genre as a jumping off point for full-bodied social commentary or humorous cultural observations. “Have You Got It Yet” feels particularly like some songs off MGMT’s Congratulations in the glammy and psychedelic pop sense and playful lyrics – “I thought Prince was 6’2”/If you didn’t shame on you/Please do better next time.” But the same song also wades into something underlying some of the social commentary throughout the album: “Cash cab’s no fun/on black plague and whole game’s done.”
The pandemic era lyrics don’t end with the death of Cash Cab. “Season finale 2020 machine” feels both a reference to the COVID-19 virus “death machine” but also explicitly a reference to policing powers on “Blue Meaniez.” The year 2020 included not only literal disease but also various social contagion— “it’ll be you, or it will be the blue meaniez.”
“Daffodil” sees an excursion into Steely Dan style rock-jazz via Japanese City Pop, including free flowing synthesizer and piano solos with a sassy wood block beat to boot. “Back to Disnee” sets up a pleasant samba/Bossa nova rhythm and cadence along to some truly North American commentary. “I believe that children are the future of America/I believe they’re bored enough” offers an acid-tongue observation, saying nothing but saying a lot at the same time. “I believe that we never really lived in America/go back to disnee, back to the palace stairs/back to the hiding places that were never really there/under the blankets, into the plastic dreams.” This is surely some of the best lyric writing released this year. The dreams of America have become so layered in an unattainable landscape of “freedom” that all are lost in it. Boredom prevails and the cycle of life and death will go on in an immortal America of never-dying plastic princess imagery. This isn’t tired commentary. This is superb writing that flows so well to the backdrop of cheery pop-music. The juxtaposition is perfectly executed.