There’s an electro-vintage quality about Boston Cream that drives vibrant, phantasmagoric energy into one’s consciousness. The vivacious quintet comprised of Melanie Bernier on lead vocals, Ryan Connelly on percussion, Peach S. Goodrich on vocals and keys, Joe Marrett on bass, and Nicholas Ward on guitar, is seemingly limitless in their creativity. Their new 5 track EP MINE makes its debut today, and contains some previously released as well as some brand spankin’ new material. In MINE, astral disco sounds echo certain visual stories like the “San Junipero” episode of Black Mirror or Risky Business. In my mind, it’s what mainstream 1980s music should have sounded like.
The album in its entirety tackles annoyances and grievances and how they can have a major impact on our quality of life, no matter how small or large they are. For example, the joyfully dizzy track “Nightlight” outlays the perils that come with anxiety and insomnia. Similarly, the more upbeat, punky track “Clogged Sinks” discusses the literal and metaphorical dejection one feels when thoughts are choked up. If you’re interested in checking out some of Boston Cream’s other tunes that combine dark themes with dancey beats, I’ve heard that “Satan Is On The Way” is worth a listen.
“Elevator Eyes” is by far the most conspicuous track on MINE, expressing the fundamental social frustrations women feel when ogled by men for simply existing. The band connects this theme with the provocative, bold, semi-abstract, shoe-gazey album cover, which features a woman’s exposed, pelvic bush sparkling with glitter. This serves as a giant “fuck you” to misogynistic pop culture sentiments that worship grandiose, phallic entities as symbols of power. The woman’s pelvis sparkles because it’s inherently fucking awesome, not because its some rare jewel to be admired. In this way, Boston Cream works to demystify a woman’s body, with a tune that’s seriously catchy.
“Tight!” is the first lyric the listener hears in “Elevator Eyes”, in exclamatory reverberation, symbolic of the attention that’s drawn to the “ideal” form or dress of a woman’s body. The track is a power anthem that neutralizes kinetic sexual energy in rolling beats and minimalistic, dreamy vocals, sending a defiant message when Bernier sings, “I don’t want a ride on your elevator eyes.” Boston Cream’s lyricism here serves as an unhindered statement that drastically shifts standard gender power dynamics to achieve balance and fill a void that’s lacking in the music industry.
