17 Lauren Auder: the infinite spine

I was born an open wound that only suicide could sow up
But I refuse that healing thread, I wanted God to look at us
And she whispers you sweet nothings, you hope it’s true enough
To keep you here ’til you give yourself up

33 & golden

Do you know what happens when you open an album with a line of delicious ideation like “I was born an open wound that suicide could sow up”? Do you know what door you prise open when you begin your album career with such a beautifully nihilistic suggestion like that? Do you know what you get if you awaken my never fully dormant but always pathetic Richey Edwards fandom??

You get what you deserve.

Which is my attention.

Lauren Auder has had their music written about since they were 17 years old in 2015, years before they had officially released anything save her SoundCloud. Considering their Mum worked for the NME and their Dad worked for Kerrang!, I imagine this must have come as quite a shock to them. Somehow though, Lauren managed to take the fact that music writers were taking an inexplicable early interest in the music of someone whose parents who wrote for two of the oldest and biggest music outlets in their stride. I’m joking, Lauren, of course. I’m sure having parents in the business actually made it more difficult for you, yeah? You were actually treated worse by the press because of who your parents were? Had to work that little bit harder? And anyway, you never really got on with your parents, did you?

Sorry, just covering all my bases there, but now that all of Auder’s bases are belong to me, let’s actually talk about the absolutely incredible debut album that all of this has lead to. Listen, I’ve said it a thousand times: until we make efforts to enforce (and it will have to be enforced in places) true equality of opportunity, until the revolutionary transformation of society, ending the existing capitalist system of exploitation and replacing it with a socialist society in which each will contribute according to ability and receive according to work done (which will, yes, eventually evolve into a society where each receives what they need), then we are always going to get people with easier routes to success than others. Right now, I am incredibly grateful that Lauren had these opportunities, as look what they’ve managed to do with it?! I want everyone to have these opportunities, not no one! Shit, if I can forgive Olivia Rodrigo for being on the Disnery channel I can forgive Lauren Auder for their mother’s job giving Jet a scathing live review in 2003 (“Absolute pish. Like, if someone references this band in twenty years on their blog nobody will get the reference. They certainly won’t believe that this shower of shite were actually a big deal for a short time“).

Anyone? Jet? No? They’re apparently still going after reforming in 2016. You just know that the members of Jet are really transphobic, don’t you? And racist as well. I mean, they’re Australian, so there’s already around a 40% chance. Reformed in 2016? The year Trump got elected? Is this a chicken/egg situation?

Hmm. Wrote kind of a lot not about the album immediately after saying that I was going to write about the album there, didn’t I? You know what that’s called? Journalistic license. Lauren’s parents have probably told them all about it.

Lauren truly lands that difficult synergy that I always demand:

1. I want my mind to be blown by the audacious experimentation, and
2. I want there to be fucking bangers

Lauren has an absolutely delicious mastery over the unashamedly epic and perversely baroque soundscapes on her debut album. But then – very freaking importantly – they’re also able to simply craft some of the most superb pop songs of the year. They underline all of this majesty by also narrating their songs with superb lyrics concerning the sad loss of youthful innocence that comes with the overall positive of learning who you are and coming to terms with your own body. That opening line of the album – which immediately flows onto JonBenét Ramsey* being referenced as an example of trauma being commodified for public consumption on 118-madonna – might lead you to believe that ‘the infinite spine’ is a somehow ‘dark’ album, but actually… OK, it kind of is in places, but consumed as a full album like it’s commendably designed to be the narrative takes you out the other side bathed in self-acceptance. The dark is almost presented as some gothic plot device in order to make the light truly shine. It’s a fucking spectacular success.

(*that’s really how her name was spelled?? With that capitalised middle letter like she was freaking ‘YouTube’ or something?? Oh, man, everything about that poor girl is just tragic)

Oh, and atoms reminds me of a Hotelier song. So it’s automatically one of the best albums of the year. Didn’t actually listen to any of the other songs. That’s enough on its own.

Also, ‘the infinite spine’ is what my brothers and I used to call a really big poo when we were younger. As in: “Where’ve you been??”, “Woof! Bit of an infinite spine, if you catch my drift”, “Cool. Did you take a photo?”

So there’s that.

Legit Bosses: 2