Also, be sure to check out the intriguing quick video of a machine actually “cutting” their vinyl record. I also added in a sine wave sub oscillator at the same octave as the square. So I layered a square wave kind of spread, and a single voice saw an octave up. The track runs 3 minutes and 47 seconds long with. It can also be used double-time at 184 BPM. Go to their website to see the many tour dates. Phantogram - Black Out Days Bass Serum Preset I feel like what Im hearing going on is a square ish bass, like youre saying, but I also feel like I hear a saw layer up top. Black Out Days is a song by Phantogram with a tempo of 92 BPM. They just released four songs on an EP, Phantogram ,and will follow up with an album called Voices. This is the reason their song, “Don’t Move”, became one of my favorites in 2011. Josh Carter says that Phantogram’s music has ” lots of rhythms, swirling guitars, spacey keyboards, echoes, and airy vocals”. Sometimes you just want to listen to something else, something interesting and different. Well, true confessions, I am a beard and banjo fan as well, but yes, there is a movement that seems to be speeding through the music world like a freight train. and just about lost it when I read Chad’s comment, “Dearest Phantogram-Please save us from the beard and banjo movement.” After watching the performance again, I glanced down at the comments under the video on the website.

Sarah’s clear smooth vocals and their interesting experimentation with instruments and sounds makes a powerful combination. Sarah Barthal and Josh Carter are described to be an electronic rock duo from upstate New York. But it’s nice, for once, on this remix to see that the swirling storm of sadness, madness and loneliness settled on new life somewhere down the road.Did you see it? Phantogram played, “Black Out Days”, recently on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

That uncertainty, that lack of a promise is my favorite thing about Phantogram’s music: things don’t always have to portend a solution as long as something–anything–is in motion. I remember listening to them last year and imagining my hands bleeding from the pressure of all my emotions squashed, of careening into that healing darkness that the best Phantogram songs send you to, but never quite give you the signal that it’s going to be all right. It’s interesting to me that here Future Islands mute what is arguably the most potent lyrical outcry (and one of my favorite sets of all of last year): You land back in those beds, and you look those lovers in the eyes dispassionately. Voices, the many voices you hear, just a reason to disassociate.īut eventually, like the Future Islands remix, you slow down and linger. And I can float for what feels like forever like an apparition above the legacies of bedrooms that brought me here, caressing with hands of soft spite my lovers, the fiends. First, like the original track, I’m an angry observer far above my body, succumbing to the blackout days that the intimate presence of others bring. Weeks and even months of many years of my life, as trauma trickled down the veins of my brain, I’ve bandaged myself into this bubble of sadness, madness, loneliness. It’s not something a lot of people get but it’s my primary mode of dealing with the world.

Not damaging or diminishing, this kind of loneliness might even be what I’d call reparative: by distancing myself, by banishing my mind, I heal.

“Blackout Days” is, at its core, about loneliness.

Phantogram black out days