Thank you all for joining me again today for another album review. I apologize for the hiatus; I originally planned to take just one week off for Thanksgiving, but ended up with a rather nasty sickness that took me out for a few extra weeks. I am feeling better now and I'm happy to be back. Today is somewhat of an abridged review, I will be reviewing ten songs off of the album "50 Songs" by Hello Whirled.
Hello Whirled is a lo-fi, indie, noise rock solo project written and performed by Ben Spizuco and is based in Philadelphia, PA. "50 Songs" is Hello Whirled's fiftieth album, and yes, it does include fifty tracks. Unfortunately I had to make a compromise with Ben, I explained that I would not be able to review fifty songs, so we agreed for me to choose ten songs to give everyone a taste of what to expect when listening to this album.
Shadow of The Emperor:
The first track of "50 Songs" is titled "Shadow of The Emperor". This track seems to explore themes of power, control, and the lingering influence of authority figures or ideologies. The title evokes imagery of an unseen yet omnipresent force, possibly a critique or reflection on societal hierarchies or personal struggles with dominance.
Musically, the track features distorted, lo-fi instrumentation, creating a haunting and chaotic atmosphere. The vocals reinforce a sense of introspection or dissonance. I won't lie to you, this is the best song on the entire album. The production quality is noticeably above average when compared to the rest of the tracks, the instrumentation is interesting enough to keep us engaged, and the vocals are clear and loud enough in the mix to be heard and, for the most part, understood. I think it was a smart decision for this to be the opening track to draw in listeners, but honestly, I was a bit disappointed that the quality seemed to only decline after this. The entire time I listened to the album I was hoping to come across another song with this level of quality, some came close, but nothing ever quite got there for me.
Angry Song For Sweet Pill to Sing:
This is the fourth song on the album, and as a fan of the band Sweet Pill, I had to shine a light on this track, solely for the reference. The lyrics are deeply introspective and have a sense of existential discomfort. Lines like "being sick at work makes me feel like God, but I'm not religious so I just feel dead" highlight a sharp juxtaposition between power and vulnerability, possibly reflecting on the alienation of modern life or the absurdity of human existence. The imagery of taking off gloves and feeling exposed resonates as a metaphor for vulnerability, both physically and emotionally. The refrain about drowning and merging with sound might allude to escapism through music or losing oneself in overwhelming emotions. The closing line, "at least my hands won't do the walking," feels cryptic, suggesting resistance against predetermined paths or automated routines. This song sounds like it was recorded with the fuzz effects on 500% for every track. The guitar fuzz is pretty nice, but the vocals get a little eaten up and very difficult to understand through everything else going on. This is literally "Fuzz: The Song". I will admit, I'm not the biggest fan of Sweet Pill in the entire world, but I am pretty familiar with them, and I'm not quite sure what about this song was relevant to referencing Sweet Pill; at no point did I think to myself "oh this sounds like a Sweet Pill song!" But I appreciated the attempt and shout-out regardless.
*Update: After sending Ben this review for revisions/confirmation he is happy with it, he explained to me that the title “Angry Song For Sweet Pill to Sing” is entirely a joke, in his words, “I named it that because I didn't think they'd ever make a song like that.”
Black Clouds Overhead:
This song is the seventh track on the album. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the lyrics for me to latch onto, which was disappointing. I really wasn't sure what any of it was supposed to mean, IF it was even supposed to mean anything. I can acknowledge the wordplay attempted, I just don't think the execution really amounted to anything meaningful or clever, but I am looking forward to asking Ben about this in the interview; just because I wasn't able to come to any conclusion on its meaning doesn't mean there isn't any, and I look forward to hearing the explanation from the man who wrote it himself. The guitar sounds right out of a Motley Crüe song. The vocals are dark and monotone, very similar to Marilyn Manson's style.
Time to Leave:
We skip ahead a bit into the tracklist with this being the twenty-fourth song on the album. The song includes some twinkly guitar with some wonky effects. I have a guitar pedal that is designed to sound like a broken VHS tape, the effects on the guitar definitely reminded me of the sounds I've made with that pedal. The vocals are still a little drab (not in a negative way) but there is a nice usage of layering and it definitely shows some attempts and willingness to give a more dynamic and interesting performance. I was easily able to latch onto these vocals and enjoy the sound for what it is. The lyrics of "Time To Leave" reflect a profound existential rumination, blending vivid imagery with melancholic introspection. Lines like "swimming down the Rubicon" suggest an irreversible journey, invoking the historical metaphor of crossing the point of no return. The themes of inevitability and finality dominate the song, underscored by phrases like "life takes its shapes, pulls down the drapes" and "the door on life keeps closing." The refrain "I have lost the time to leave" carries a dual meaning, evoking both the loss of opportunity and a deeper existential paralysis. The contrast between the cosmic “face on the sky asking to die” and the mundane “lacking funds for too much stuff” grounds the song in a stark tension between the grand and the trivial aspects of existence. The final lines, "or at least it looks that way when I try to find it," suggest a struggle with perception, as if the narrator questions whether the barriers they face are real or self-imposed. This lyrical ambiguity leaves a lingering sense of unresolved tension.
My Headphones Are Falling Apart:
We have reached track thirty with "My Headphones Are Falling Apart". The song begins with fuzzy guitar again, but this time it is much less intense. It is almost spacey, like an alien raygun, but then it is joined with a clean guitar and drums that ease the track to be more palatable and easy-listening. "My Headphones Are Falling Apart" is a poignant reflection on detachment, exhaustion, and the passage of time. The central metaphor of deteriorating headphones—an intimate, everyday object associated with personal connection to music and emotion—mirrors a larger sense of disconnection from oneself and the world. The opening lines, "No more to fall, I’ve decided I’m above it now," suggest a sense of resolution or surrender, though the ambiguity leaves room for interpretation. Is this a moment of empowerment or resignation? The cyclical nature of questions and answers "So maybe how I answer will give me different questions" evokes the frustrating search for meaning or clarity in life. The imagery in "I can’t swim, it’s the way I move that fails me" and "I’m out of land and I’m holding my skin above the water" conveys a visceral struggle with survival, both physical and emotional. The repeated phrase "the feeling’s gone" encapsulates the numbness that comes from burnout, loss, or disillusionment.
The Summers We Lost:
Moving up to track thirty-eight, we have "The Summers We Lost". Once again, a very fuzzy and distorted song, very reminiscent of traditional punk music, lots of noise and under one minute long. Pretty catchy and short enough that it isn't overstaying its welcome. The song reflects on unmet expectations and the emotional toll of striving for elusive goals. The opening lines "how much did enlightenment cost? How many roads did we expect to have crossed by now?" pose reflective, almost rhetorical questions, hinting at the disillusionment of growing older without achieving clarity or fulfillment. The imagery of "losing ourselves to the frost" conveys the chilling effect of time and hardship, contrasting with the warmth implied by the "summers we lost." The seasons here symbolize hope, vitality, and a sense of purpose, now fading into distant memories. The lyrics “we march on, doing it wrong like always” emphasizes the persistence of effort despite recurring failure, encapsulating a universal human experience.
Universal Themes:
With only a few songs left to review, we have reached track forty out of fifty on this album. "Universal Themes" is an absolute fever dream of a song, full of insane noises and sounds, the vocals sound like bugs and demons and miscellaneous monsters are screaming in my ears. It is a bit hard to understand what's being said, but this track definitely tries experimenting as far out of the box as possible, and I respect that. It is a very weird song to say the least, definitely not for all audiences, but it was a bit refreshing to hear something with this level of insanity. The lyrics juxtapose cryptic imagery "Brushfire on wheels," "Right-angle towns" with abstract commentary on societal and personal struggles. The song explores the disconnection between grand ideals and the mundane, flawed reality of life. There is emphasis on cyclical hardships and sacrifices, hinting at the human tendency to endure despite constant adversity. This track also suggests that these struggles are shared across time and place, even if the details differ. The lines "Forward marching forward, Unapologetic, Zoomed to look like ants" offer a critique of modern life's relentless pace and dehumanization. The mention of "inert dreams" and "nothing seems" in the closing lines evokes a sense of futility, as if the pursuit of meaning or progress is ultimately illusory.
Fresh Squeezed Planet Blood:
Track forty-four is a very short song, only twenty-six seconds long, with a title that is so unique, I had to review this song. This is a heavy song that sounds straight off of a PUP album, which I was very happy to hear. "Fresh Squeezed Planet Blood" is a raw and visceral depiction of exhaustion to the pervasive violence and chaos of the world. The stark opening lines "I can't move a fucking muscle, for this world anymore" immediately establish a tone of frustration and emotional paralysis. The use of profanity reinforces the intensity of the sentiment, conveying a sense of breaking under the weight of relentless suffering. The narrator expresses a disturbing familiarity with violence: "of all of the screams, of all of the streams of blood pouring down the hot streets." This emphasizes the endless, cyclical nature of destruction and suffering, turning it into an almost surreal and overwhelming experience. The phrase "getting back up makes me bored" suggests a nihilistic detachment, as if resilience itself has lost its purpose in a world that seems irredeemable.
Asking:
The next song, "Asking" is track forty-six on the album and is a contemplative and somewhat cynical exploration of personal identity, generational struggles, and the overwhelming influence of memory and nostalgia. The opening line, “never mind, I can’t keep up with these times,” sets the tone for the song, expressing a sense of alienation and frustration with the present. The narrator feels disconnected or outpaced by the modern world, a sentiment that is deeply relatable in a time of rapid change and uncertainty. The lines “the sins of the parents dug out and interrogated, will you laugh it off or stand firm?” suggest a critique of how society often reexamines past actions, particularly those of previous generations. This creates a tension between the personal and the historical, as the younger generation may either accept or challenge the sins of the older one. The line “memory’s elastic but we’ll still be full of plastic” adds to the theme of disillusionment, implying that while memory can stretch or distort, people remain essentially the same—artificial or superficial in some way. The last part, “but what of I? I’m just waiting for the nostalgia virus to kick in,” brings the focus back to the narrator’s personal experience. The idea of a “nostalgia virus” is intriguing and suggests that, as time passes, people often long for the past in ways that are unhealthy or irrational, as if nostalgia is a contagious condition. This line speaks to the tension between the longing for simpler times and the acknowledgment that such longings can be manipulative or counterproductive.
Off:
I felt that it was important to discuss, at the very least, the first and last tracks of the album, and here we are, finally reaching the end. Track number fifty, "Off". The opening lines, “Closed circuit planet, source of all-improvement, exploded views,” establish a sense of confinement and detachment. The term "closed circuit" suggests a world that is self-contained, perhaps repetitive and inescapable, while the mention of “all-improvement” hints at an obsession with progress that ultimately leads to disillusionment or destruction. “Exploded views” evokes a fractured, fragmented perspective, as if clarity is lost in a world of chaotic information or ideals. The subsequent lines, “Every piece on the inside, very little present hide, burnt-out fuse,” further reinforce the theme of internal conflict. The "burnt-out fuse" could symbolize emotional or mental exhaustion, while “very little present hide” suggests that, despite appearances, there’s little left of the narrator’s emotional or psychological self. This alludes to a sense of hollowing out, a loss of meaning or connection. The imagery in “Dragging a body up the stairs, thrown out a window where no one cares” is vivid and unsettling, depicting both physical and emotional struggle. The act of “dragging” and being “thrown out” implies a sense of forced movement and abandonment, emphasizing the narrator's isolation. The line “Missed call from Degradation Row” suggests that even attempts to communicate or seek help are futile, adding to the sense of neglect and hopelessness. Finally, the lines “Caught by the fire from out of nowhere, Into the room when no one’s there, Emptied archive with nothing to show” convey an almost apocalyptic vision. The "fire from out of nowhere" could symbolize an unforeseen crisis, while the emptiness of the "archive" suggests a life lived in vain—no legacy, no meaning, no substance left to show for it.
There you have it, my abridged review of "50 Songs" by Hello Whirled. This artist has a billion songs and over fifty albums, if you feel so inclined, do a deep dive and find at least one song you enjoy! Thank you for checking out my review this week, and you can continue reading down below for the interview I did with Ben Spizuco, aka, Hello Whirled
Interview:
Thank you, Ben, for joining me today, and thank you for your patience as I took a few weeks off for the holidays and to recover from a sickness.
For starters, I want to ask how you came up with the name "Hello Whirled"? I like the ring of it and the clever word play, is there any story to how you landed on it?
Ben: I came up with it during the first week of my senior year of high school. That would have been September 2016. I was in Computer Programming II that year, which was Java. The first thing you learn how to do when you’re learning a new programming language is how to make the program output the text “hello world”. I decided to spell it “whirled” because, really, the text itself doesn’t matter. It just matters that its outputting text at all. I thought the resulting “hello whirled” would be a cool band name.
"50 Songs" is your 50th album, and you are currently up to 51 albums. I never thought I would be discussing someone's 50th album, but I guess there's a first time for everything. How long has it taken you to write 50 albums? How does your writing process work? With so many songs spread across so many albums, are you able to pick a favorite song you've ever written, or maybe a favorite album as a whole? What prompted you to go on this journey of writing so many albums, releasing multiple albums a year, how does someone even get started on a task like that? Do you ever worry that your work is more about quantity over quality?
Ben: I’m going to attempt to answer each of these individually.
Hello Whirled has been around for eight years, but the first 26 albums came out between October 2016 and December 2018. You may notice that the quality of the albums increase dramatically after that. 3-5 albums a year is still a lot but it’s way easier, and more satisfying, than 10-15 albums a year.
Generally, my writing process is me, sitting at my computer with an electric guitar, recording every little idea until something sticks and my hands will a song into existence. This isn’t the only way I write songs, but it’s the one I use the most. The next album eschews this, because it’ll be new recordings of songs from the previously mentioned 26 albums, plus some other stuff from around that time.
Yes and yes. Right now my favorite song I’ve ever written is a very new one called “Good Things By Mistake”, but I’m also very proud of “Your Bright Blue Evening”. Those tend to be my go-to answers. 50 Songs, the album you reviewed, is my album I’ve done, followed by No Use Crying Over Spilled Blood and maybe History Worth Repeating.
I got into Guided By Voices and Robert Pollard’s whole discography during middle school, and it left a massive impression on me. I saw some guys make albums with whatever they had sitting around, without concern for getting the best performance or making it sound the best, and they were knocking it out of the park. I thought that if they could do it, I could do it, and I was right. They’re still far and away my favorite band. Meet your heroes.
It certainly doesn’t feel that way. Spending 2-5 months on an album feels like exactly the right amount of time to work on an album. I prefer a smooth recording process where I enjoy making the music, rather than focusing on making the final song the best it can possibly be. I’d rather look at a wall with 1000 little doodles on it than one giant painting.
How long does it typically take you to finish a song? From the beginning of the writing process all the way to finishing the final master track and releasing it.
Ben: There’s no consistency to this. I’ve sat on finished instrumentals for months before finding the spark to write lyrics for it. On the other hand, there are two instances on 50 Songs where I wrote and recorded 4 songs in a short time (a 5-hour studio session at Hidden Fortress, and a songwriting challenge in my bedroom).
Do you think you will always continue releasing music as Hello Whirled? Do you have any sort of end goal, like you're aiming for 100 albums or anything like that?
Ben: I realized a few years ago that Hello Whirled and Benjamin Spizuco are the same thing, so Hello Whirled will be around as long as I am. The end goal is to keep going until it is impossible.
Hello Whirled is a solo project, and you are responsible for all aspects of the songwriting and recording, is there any part of it that you prioritize over others? Do you focus more on the lyrics over the music, or vice versa? Or maybe focus more on the post-production over getting a perfect take of something? Or do you think you distribute your efforts perfectly evenly?
Ben: This reads like a few questions but it only needs one answer, and it’s that I could probably explain this with a sort of pyramid. I don’t abide by one, so this is just me thinking about it right now:
Recording - most important
Coming up with the music
Mixing
Playing the instruments
Singing
Writing the lyrics
Cover art
Sequencing - still important
Marketing - I am so bad at this that I forgot to upload albums to streaming in time for release dates twice this year.
The live experience doesn’t factor into this at all. That comes later. I think Hello Whirled has become a solid live act, and I’m at a point where I actually enjoy it and want to do it more, but the only time I actively consider the live experience is when I have a song in a weird tuning that I want to perform. If it’s close enough to standard, I’ll write another song in that tuning so that both can be played live. Seems a bit silly to change the tuning for only one song, but I guess I do that too sometimes so who knows.
For anyone reading this that may be unfamiliar with your music, give us a pitch to hook some new listeners in. Who would enjoy your music? What other musicians do you think your style is similar to?
Ben: Hello Whirled is effectively an R&D project that you can poke your head into at any point. I think other musicians would enjoy Hello Whirled the most, but anyone who likes music with electric guitars would find at least 1 song they enjoy. That said, I think fans of more obscure rock subgenres would enjoy more songs than, say, classic rock fans. They might get annoyed.
A lot of your lyrics are very cryptic and strange, and not to single any one song out specifically, but I think a good example of this is the song "Black Clouds Overhead".
The lyrics are as follow:
"Clouds of judgment cloud the judgment
Matter doesn’t matter, does it matter?
Rode down the road down the road down
Histories are mysteries, misery craves history!
Rounds of warfare, cities of ammo
Any one list for anyone who listens
Get down, cover head: black clouds overhead
Nothing is ever going on, these are just the same old bombs"
If it wouldn't be too much to ask, would it be possible for you to go line-by-line and give us your own interpretation and explain what these lyrics mean to you?
Ben: This song actually lends itself horribly to a line-by-line explanation. The first four lines are pure wordplay, which I don’t do a whole lot. The over four lines are about all those bombs Israel keeps dropping on Gaza, the West Bank, Lebanon, Syria, etc.
How did you get into playing and making music? What artists inspired you?
Ben: Two things. First was a colossal obsession with the Beatles. They were basically all I listened to and talked about for several years. Then I hated them, then I loved them again, and now I’m indifferent. Still a cool band to read about, but their songs don’t do it for me anymore. Second was my uncle Glenn Simon, who brought an acoustic guitar whenever he’d visit. This meant that I was not only dead certain that music was my favorite thing ever, but I knew someone who actually did the thing I wanted to do. I’ve talked enough about Guided By Voices, so I’ll list out some other bands that have had a large effect on me: Stereolab, Deerhoof, Wire, Sebadoh, Helvetia, Mount Eerie, Fugazi, OOIOO, Palberta, Ex Pilots, Minutemen, Polvo, Mission of Burma…something most of these names have in common is that the people in these bands are also in other bands. A full version of this list would include a lot of bands featuring the same few people. I also like the songs that they make. That feels a bit more important than the other ones. I like a lot of other stuff too, but this is already a pretty beefy list.
Is there anyone you'd like to use this time to shout-out?
Ben: Some bands featuring people who played in Hello Whirled this year: Boracci Channel, Signal Valley (my identical twin), Away Game, Super Jack, Junonia, and Joseph Airport.
Some bands I performed alongside this year: Gaadge, Te Vista, Pillowinde, Candy Necklace, Condor, Zekie, Hot Seat, Squelch, Citizens of There (featuring Paddy Considine), A Night of Arrogance, Edweirdo and the Elephants (who I played bass with for a show, hopefully will do so again), Sapwood, the Quill Pen Gallery, Kleenex Girl Wonder (who could have gone in my “artists who inspire me” list but I wanted to flex), mICROgOBLET, Lahnah, the Knife Kickers, Arachne Sol, Dusk Function, Thermal Curtain, Jeff Coyne, Erin Incoherent, No Buddy, Keefchamber, Saturnalias, and Bunny Tonight. I was supposed to do a few shows with Laizy, Dana Johann, Radar & Satellite, Prophet II, and That One Crocodile, but I ended up not performing those shows.
I’m also gonna shout out Nina Ryser, 22° Halo, and Pacemaker, who I love and just haven’t gotten to play with yet.
Thank you so much for reading, go check out Ben’s music under “Hello Whirled” HERE!
( https://linktr.ee/hellowhirled )
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