Select Frequency #14

Your Power Holiday soundtrack 2025: wistful scuzz and indie heartwarmers

As we at Select Frequency HQ literally cannot stop telling ourselves, it is time for your Power Holiday! Everyone around you is telling you to gear up for the end of the year and celebrate joyously; everything in nature is telling you to hibernate like a civilised mammal or else face a full season of misery. How to juggle these competing pressures? What can music offer a listener with the burgeoning dual need to be their cheeriest self while going as vegetative as possible? How does one face such things in the context of the Power Pop Mindset?

The what?

Well, last week saw Kerry smash out a series highlight on the ever-vital topic of Power Pop, which as a tl;dr takes the meticulous songwriting and overdriven zip of vintage guitar pop, and chases it with the politically-conscious vim of sharp lyricism. Short on revolutionary energy but down for a few conciliatory kicks from those who live to sardonically quip at the system from within? Power pop is for you.

At various points in the past (and inevitably future), I would count myself in that category — but not today! Or even this month! For winter is just around the corner, Black Friday week has capitalised my bones into a mirthless equilibrium of wanting literally nothing at all, and, with the shift out of BSTime at the end of October, the UK has been stuck in the bowels of night for a solid month now. What is left to take solace in but the inadvertent feeling of presence brought on by perniciously cold air, the warmth of warm rooms compounded by warm people and warm booze, the kitsch of Christmastime light displays, or any music that compliments these settings?

As anyone stodged of brain and numbed in sensuality will recognise, the answer here nine times out of ten is indie, indie, indie — not of the zip-vim persuasion of power pop, but so heavily fraternal with the noise/jangle/psych trifecta that has at least one mutual friend in C86 and its offspring. That remaining one time is inevitably a space-out so catatonically nostalgic that it obviates the need for any further labels, and so! In lieu of the Power Pop Mindset Part II (for which you will have to wait until next year’s Permanent Waves series), it is my pleasure to introduce the Post-Power Pop Pre-Christmas Companion to Seasonal Regression (aka the perfect companion to your Power Holiday).

1. Skip Skip Ben Ben - “小忞”

2. The Flaming Lips - “Christmas at the Zoo”

3. Quickspace - “Gloriana”

4. Coaltar of the Deepers - “Thunderbolt”

5. Killing Joke - “You’ll Never Get to Me”

6. 福禄寿 (FloruitShow) - “如何”

7. Spangle Call Lilli Line - “nano”

8. Blonde Redhead - “Snowman”

9. The Gathering - “Box”

10. Bark Psychosis - “Pendulum Man”

Skip Skip Ben Ben - “小忞”

from 鏡中鏡 (Mirror in Mirror) // 2015 // noise pop

With this record and this track in particular, Taipei’s ingenuously named Skip Skip Ben Ben – forever Skip Skip Bang Bang in my head canon – hit upon a short-lived but alchemically brilliant take on noisy, psyched-out twee goodness, halfway into both shoegaze and slowcore, but too evocative of real-life amplifier houses where real people dance, smoke and fuck with real joy in their blood to be the preserve of either. Sluggish is probably the adjective of choice for “小忞”, a slow-dance stomper that churns its way through eleven hundred pangs of feedback and a single, tenacious, endearingly grating refrain that (surely) could only be the product of authentic sweaty yearning.

For whom, for what? Not the point — certainly not what makes this such a relatable wintertide anthem! Whatever gift wrap or whoever’s haircut vocalist Yile Lin is pining after here, her performance sticks the landing and is backed to hilt by umpteen choice guitar pangs and trems that are conveniently extremely melodious and extremlier loud. Fuckin’ A. I’m also a big fan of how the entire song (I believe?) is in English, yet there is not a single intelligible lyric to be heard — this may be very un-power pop of Lin (though nothing riles an imperialist more than the mangling of their own mother tongue!), but if that’s what it takes to impart a shared desire to move one’s limbs shapelessly and under the influence of whatever you please (my current vote = mulled wine), what can you say but mmm please play my half-arsed Christmas party? The right wooze for the right time!

The Flaming Lips - “Christmas at the Zoo”

from Clouds Taste Metallic // 1995 // noise pop

This playlist simply would not have been complete without this one — and yet, I’ll fess to a minor betrayal of premise, as this is perhaps the only track on the list that you could posit as Actual Power Pop! Or at least it would be if Wayne Coyne had bothered to write a full set of verses — but why would he when the rest of his band are riding that thunderous fuzzy groove at an all-time instrumental high, thanks in no small part to the inimitable noise-country twang-pang of soon-to-depart guitarist Ronald Jones. (If the surviving Lips were wise never to try replacing him, then neither did they quite recapture his magic with their studio-centric following run, excellent as it is).

From what is on the page, Coyne’s verses showcase his trademark deep-or-dumb musings at their most endearing: whether or not you buy it as a meaningful parable of hubris and autonomy, there’s something inherently satisfying about listening to him rattle off a list of (one must imagine) his favourite zoo creatures at the time (one imagines this list changing unexpectedly and often). Is it possible to get a pass through sheer cuteness on what from anyone else would play as obnoxious moralising pish? I digress. Bottom line: this track is full of timely snow references, the kind of fuzz you can get whelmingly and enduringly intoxicated to, and nostalgic Yuletide guitar slides. Its energy is infectious and will shield you from any cold snaps or non-specific bad vibes. Grab that Christmas cake and eat it!

Quickspace - “Gloriana”

from The Death of Quickspace // 2000 // indie rock

For a mix as incorrigibly nostalgic regressive as this one sure as hell aspires out to be, where would we be without a big, stodgy bomb of noise and sappiness that gleefully overcompensates with overdrive and repetition for what it lacks in emotional sophistication. On “Gloriana”, an epitome of all those things, London scuzz-poppers Quickspace play broken-hearted mope as the Lord intended: with sheer magnitude above all else. As such, we get one hyperspecific snapshot to set the scene (I went to San Antón / I waited on my own / without a mobile phone / away from home), but from there on all that really matters is that the track’s central premise is conveniently mapped in unmissably blunt terms, right down to the minor IV that kisses the final line: we could’ve if we tried / but I don’t see why.

Why resort to poetry when slacker nonchalance communicates exactly how emotionally prepared you are to articulate your emotions? Out with the exposition, and in with the distortion, the dubiously tuneful refrains and – yes! – the theremin. The premise may be vague enough for any season, but that wall of sound, fuelled as it is by infinite, terminal mope, is an inspired alternative to central heating and a guaranteed source of solace for you in these bleakest, most backward-looking of months.

Coaltar of the Deepers - “Thunderbolt”

from Come Over to the Deepend // 2000 // shoegaze

…and if “Gloriana” begs the question of whether a one-song mooch is ever enough, the answer is always shoegaze, aka the closest thing humanity has produced to a verse/chorus genre so languid that you would be actively advised against doing anything other than hibernating to it. Now, “Thunderbolt” is everything a shoegaze song should be if we’re talking ear-searing fuzz and maudlin vocals that are largely insufferable if you’re not in that mood but disarmingly essential if you are (perhaps that last one is of course a shared asset with alt rock as a whole), and it’s also a number of things that shoegaze songs typically are not: engaging verse/chorus dynamics, and a rapturous fucking melody line in the coda that ties the whole piece together and somehow makes all the tinnitus worth it.

So believe me when I say that this is some choice kitchen sink plod — I’m not above the embryo-level regression it takes to get the best out of a shoegaze tune, and neither should you be. Let that twinkling/turbodriving tonal convection elevate your nostalgic stew into (uh) a proper cosmic downer. However what’s remarkable is the way this appeal sits within the wider scheme of Coaltar of the Deepers. These guys went to absurd extents not to be just another shoegaze band, and their excursions into electronic, surf rock, and thrash and death metals still earn them significant novelty points with anyone who cares about such things, &yet &yet &yet at least half of their most enduring classics (for me) stick more rigidly than anything to the shoegaze blueprint and wear their mope with pride! As should we all?! Whether “Thunderbolt” is the greatest of these is another matter, but as the contender least fixated on summer, we’ll chalk its appeal up as maudlin Christmas-affinity and tide the rest over with as much mulled wine as it takes.

Killing Joke - “You’ll Never Get to Me”

from Killing Joke // 2003 // industrial rock

Enough mooch! If your nostalgic stew lacks a triumphant pick-me-up, you’ve been living in the wrong past! Granted, the last name you’d typically associate with triumphant pick-me-ups would be Jaz Coleman, legendary godfather of industrial rock whose apocalyptic sermons have fuelled decades of output from his band Killing Joke, if anything acquiring more and more bite over time. Why then does “You’ll Never Get to Me”, released on one of Killing Joke’s most notoriously brimstone-happy albums, make for such an unabashed anthem? Is this industrial metal’s answer to power pop? And how on earth did Dave Grohl end up pounding those toms?

Well, uh:

Potted, skippable history of Killing Joke x Dave Grohl:

-> As for myriad others of his generation, Killing Joke’s 1980 self-titled debut was a key touchstone for Grohl…

-> …but after joining Nirvana the two bands found themselves in conflict when “Come as You Are” was released as a single and (rightly) accused of ripping off the Killing Joke thumper “Eighties” (from their 1985 classic Night Time).

-> Rumours of a copyright lawsuit were promptly put to bed following Kurt Cobain’s suicide.

-> Grohl tipped his hat to Killing Joke after founding the Foo Fighters: an alternative pressing of the UK “Everlong” single features a cover of Killing Joke’s “Requiem” as the b-side — it’s hardly Bowie re-recording “China Girl” to boost Iggy Pop’s royalties, but is there any overture more gracious than putting someone’s name on the best tune of your album cycle?

-> From there, the story goes that Coleman and Grohl meet up in New Zealand, Coleman joins the Foos on-stage a few days later for a performance of “Requiem” (read this whole interview, it's hilarious).

->The next thing anyone knows, Grohl is signed up to drum for the record that ends up as Killing Joke’s 2003 second self-titled album.

-> Wham.

The irony is that this track is as close as Killing Joke ever came to playing a true, Foos-style roof-raiser, and as with all things of its kind, it comes within a hair’s breadth of being an irredeemable cornball! The track’s sheer earnestness sticks the landing though, most obviously in Coleman’s thunderous chorus: from the trademark terminator-gravel of his delivery to the rousing OH! that resonates through the entire track with more force than any given melody could hope to contain to his convenient explication of exactly what we’re after at this point of the mix:

Oh, sing a song of joy / Sweet childhood, never desert me / Time for celebration, oh! / Overcome with a sense of elation

The man’s grit carries what, in anyone else’s hands, would likely end up as so much melted cheese — given how demure Grohl’s Coleman impression scans, I’d bet both cheeks of my arse he was grateful to be behind the drumkit for this one. Is this the get up and go! your Power Holiday has been looking for? Don’t call me. OH!

福禄寿 (FloruitShow) - “如何”

from 我用什么把你留住 // 2011 // indie pop

Now that we hopefully all have that scuzzy guitar craving out of our systems, it is time for a gracious comedown: it’s wistful indie pop, delicately textured comfort music and ethereal goodness from hereon out. Starting with this band! This band – I’m not sure whether I prefer ctrl+v’ing their Chinese characters (which I cannot read or pronounce) or typing their Anglicised name (which I can read but do not want to imagine being pronounced by myself or anyone else) – this band is made up of three sisters from Beijing, which is nice, and they play a distinctively Sinofied take on downtempo pop, which is intermittently excellent: it’s hard to imagine any other culture laying down such cheese-happy string arrangements quite so soulfully. A late highlight on their sole LP, “如何” provides a pensive lacuna for both that tracklist and this one, its dense, synthetically modulated vocal harmonies interspersed with the lovely melancholic beat drop that serves as its chorus. It’s a neat approach to songwriting – find me another pop track that holds and releases its breath quite so palpably as this one! – and comes thick with the nostalgia and moroseness that we’re elbow-deep in at this point.

Spangle Call Lilli Line – “Nano”

from or // 2003 // post-rock/indietronica

No Power Holiday Companion has you covered unless it packs at least one twinkly toe-tapper that can be thrown on at night down any street whatsoever, no matter how chilly or distant from your abode, instantly transporting your sensory cortex to the warm shower you are suddenly taking in your miraculously pristine bathroom back home while your feet trudge on with a new spring in their step — and if any tune has ever been more that song than “Nano”, I demand you reveal it to me this instant in the comments of this very page.

At this point, Shimokita’s Spangle Call Lilli Line have done just about everything that can be done under the umbrella of 21st century indie (minus the sauceless Lou Reed tributes their NYC contemporaries were dying over in the early ‘00s), and their knack for imbuing their comfort music with an appeal equal parts sweet and savoury recalls the more substantive end of the ‘90s Shibuya Kei movement (testament to which, this album along with much of their work was produced by Salon Music’s Zin Yoshida). Indeed, with its mid-tempo lilt, its deeply aestheticist lyrics* and its featherweight techno coda, “Nano”’s downtempo/indietronica leanings are arguably closer to the Shibuya Kei Mindset than the Power Pop Mindset: two very different angles on the same capitalism, about which some future installment of this series will have much, much more to say. For now, this track is blissed enough for multiple mindsets.

*about those deeply aestheticist lyrics

I wanted to pull up a translation to illustrate these, but of the two I could find:
-> one conveyed the 'nonsense' of the original without reproducing its lackadaisical tone or dreamlike 'flow'
-> the other was one of the funnier examples of AI slop I’ve come across recently (opening line: Origin: The light of cholera is reflected in the eyes). 

Time for a new one! The Japanese is abstract, fragmented, deliberately disjointed in its collocations, and often resistant to interpretation, but I’ve done what I can to straighten it out into something an Anglophone lyricist might conceivably write. Here's the final chorus and coda - the rest is denser and less penetrable, but I'll publish it in a separate piece once I've ironed it out a little further.

あの過敏 揺らす日 
The day that shakes the frame
わずかに
Faintly
あの雷神 歌う日 
The day when Raijin sings
わずかに
Faintly
あの過敏揺らす日 
The day that shakes the frame
わずかに阻み
A little hemmed in
あの雷神歌う日
The day when Raijin sings
煩う泉
An ailing spring


あげたのは類するガム
I gave you the same kind of gum
あげたのは二層歓
I gave you a new plane of joy


...and if that reads opaquely, then yes. Indeed. No arguing with the goods vocalist Kana Otsubo squeezes out of those phonetics though!

Blonde Redhead – “Snowman”

from Sit Down for Dinner // 2023 // indie rock

Blonde Redhead are not a band I would traditionally turn to for wintertide warmth: on the instances where their icy reserve slips across their back catalogue, be it in their noise rock, chamber or dream pop eras, it’s typically to yield to the current of anxiety that runs through practically their entire oeuvre (I love this band). And yet! Their latest, excellent record Sit Down for Dinner marks a thaw of sorts, dishing out some of their most emotionally forthcoming – enlivening, even! – material to date, and where better to get the best of this than on the opener and standout “Snowman”?

Amidst some of the band’s most melodious hooks to date and the kind of subtle chord shifts that would make the Dessner brothers swoon if they still cared for music with a pulse, drummer Simone Pace’s paradiddy lopes through the track with exactly the kind of groove that demands to be felt and danced to. Take my word for it: when I caught Blonde Redhead live in support of this album, the only track that got the room moving anything like this one was their longstanding classic “23” (and that one’s beat is a force of nature). This one is here to warm your frozen heart this winter, and – yes – also for the eponymous iceboi. Merry, merry etc..

The Gathering – “Box”

from Home // 2006 // alternative rock

“Box” is what you feel if you take a slow walk with an old friend, and realise for the first time that year that the trees have lost their leaves.

That’s… it? A cryptic mono no aware snapshot delivered with a lot of heart and a bunch of gorgeous textures?

I don’t have much to say for this one other than that it’s a fairly deep cut from my favourite band of all time, and that it offers a particularly subtle blend of many qualities I love them for: their tendency to reinvent themselves (this song alone reinvents itself at least twice — an early bridge and a refurbished second chorus will let you get away with anything), their trip-hop fixation and their gothic roots, their blend of childlike fascination with adult weariness (it’s amazing how expressive the straightforwardness of their second-language lyricism can be in this regard). I usually it cowardly when writers foreground sentiments like the one I’m gripped by now – that there’s enough elusive wonder to be had in something that it would be a shame to overanalyse it – but over a decade of steady listening to this has made it precious to me in a way I’d rather pass on with excess qualification. Great band, great box.

Bark Psychosis – “Pendulum Man”

from Hex // 1994 // post-rock/ambient

As a disclaimer, I originally wanted to close with the track “CAFE CIRCLE“ from Eiko Ishibashi’s superb ambient space-jazz collaboration with pianist Hiroshi Minami. The limitations of Spotify’s conceited monolibrary being what they are, this track is not on the cards, and so we are forced to turn to something less morose, a little more tranquil, and equally fantastic from Bark Psychosis’ genre-crowning debut Hex. It was famously in reference to that record that the ill-fated label post-rock was first coined, but “Pendulum Man” is less a portent of the overbearing crescendos to come, and much more an atmospheric masterclass in the vein of Brian Eno/Robert Fripp/David Sylvian: the track’s use of rock vs. non-rock instrumentation is entirely incidental and the dreamlike logic of the song eschews the need for maximalist dynamics or linear progressions; there is actually quite a lot going on here structurally, but each section follows such mesmeric pacing that its shifts are never in the foreground. These observations are also incidental! What it boils down to is that “Pendulum Man” sounds like late twilight as felt outside from the inside of a down jacket, and therefore it sounds like the entirety of every good day in late autumn and is the reverie of seasonal change you need today. Winter is coming and your Power Holiday starts now! Enjoy.