Posts Tagged ‘King Felix’

Sightings: Laurel Halo, “Embassy” Video

Monday, July 12th, 2010


There is something about the song “Embassy” by Laurel Halo that makes me feel like I am listening to a soundtrack — not necessarily the soundtrack to a film, but the soundtrack to an idealized way of life. The airy synth tones and Halo’s angelic vocals reminds me of getting a back rub after a day of swimming and spa-ing. It almost feels like a play on the zen notion of Utopia, as marketed to Western consumers.

In Josef Kraska’s video for the song, he takes this mood to the next level. We are shown a montage of close-ups of women’s faces. Most of the images look as though they’ve been taken from 1980s television commercials, and the women are prime specimens of the red-lipped, smiling, squeaky clean standard of beauty that was prevalent at that time. These images are quite ephemeral, and it seems we aren’t meant to relate to them. The glowing starbursts, kaleidoscopes, and other geometric shapes that loom over the women’s faces are both beautiful and sinister. They seem to suggest an impending erasure, as if our “heroines” are headed for an ending of the Logan’s Run variety.
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Sightings: Laurel Halo, “Metal Confection”

Friday, April 23rd, 2010

I kind of wish that I were not sitting alone in my cramped North Brooklyn apartment right now, because it would nice to have somebody here to pat me on the back and tell me that I not crazy. I have been listening to “Metal Confection” by a woman by the name of Laurel Halo pretty much non-stop since I discovered it in my inbox this evening, and each time I listen to it it sounds like an entirely different song. The synesthetic images (or pseudo ones, I guess) remain the same each time, but they occur in a different order. In the most memorable sequence, the one that I am best able to tie into a concrete narrative, we start with the preternaturally sexy splay of Kate Bush’s hair on the cover of Hounds of Love and zoom in through a giant Hubble kaleidoscope, filled with glass emeralds and plastic rubies the size of plums.

Focusing on the small spirals of mane rotating slowly through a pool of pink water, we watch them bloom outward into the baroque water gardens in Kenneth Anger’s Eaux D’Artifice, then outward still more into a satellite photo of smog spiraling around the earth. Finally, at maximum close-up, we behold a cathedral of stars. The well-oiled techno-utopia Halo channels with nothing but her voice and a few programmed arpeggios is that sweeping and macrocosmic, but it is full of small microcosms — sparkles, muted explosions — too. Watch out, Ms. Bush; if I were you, I would smear on an entire tube of lipstick and get ready to contend with my own 21st century avatar.

Laurel Halo, “Metal Confection”

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