Magdalena Bay
Imaginal Disk
MOM + POP
Electronic-pop duo Magdalena Bay should probably have some sort of award for the DIY’d aesthetic they’ve developed and increasingly committed to over the last few years. No strangers to building a complete world of their own, Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin have previously matched trippy green-screened visuals with an equally vibrant pop sound bordering on both futuristic hyperpop and retro grunge territory in a uniquely eclectic discography. Their second album Imaginal Disk is a more conceptual project than 2021’s debut Mercurial World, following Tenenbaum’s embrace of her character True’s quest to learn what it means to be human after receiving the titular disk in what feels like a metaphor for the current discourse on AI. Yet it never feels as though that theme is fully explored throughout the album—instead, we hear the duo’s thoughts on what really brings people together.
The record’s first single “Death & Romance” is the aesthetic pinnacle of the album, combining two of Imaginal Disk’s biggest strengths. Feeling deeply framed within science fiction, synthesizers whizz by like UFOs searching overhead. But at the core of the song lies hopelessly romantic lyricism: “My hands, your hands, I’ll hold forever / No way I’ll break hold, no, not ever,” Tenenbaum sings. It carries the torch for the very human core of the project’s themes, emphasizing a focus on connection (both mental and physical) that seems to eclipse the winking humor found on Magdalena Bay’s prior EPs and mixtapes. There seems to be a greater sense of seriousness in the moments where the duo embrace their cinematic narrative following True’s journey—only “That’s My Floor” excels in delivering comic relief, with Tenenbaum embracing bratty energy amongst distorted bass. It’s one of few moments where Magdalena Bay really delivers the sense of carefree fun which made their previous efforts so immediately likable.
The middle section of Imaginal Disk contains its weakest moments. “Fear, Sex” feels as though it ends before it gets going; “Watching T.V.” revolves around a psychedelic loop, but fails to inspire; “Vampire in the Corner” features a beat that feels distinctively lifeless for the usual exuberance we’ve come to experience from the pair. In the most conceptual moments, some songs can get lost in building narrative rather than keeping the listener on their toes. Yet the same can’t be said for the final four tracks, wherein Tenenbaum and Lewin create arguably their strongest run of songs to date. “Angel on a Satellite” is a sci-fi ballad written with jarring honesty. It’s as if a veil has been lifted—suddenly the mask slips and Tenenbaum directly addresses Lewin: “When I see me through your eyes, I love me, so don’t leave my side,” she declares. True has learned to become human after all through life’s simple pleasures, and none could feel as sweet as growing alongside those you love.
Album closer “The Ballad of Matt & Mica” only serves to reaffirm this. The concept of Imaginal Disk may see Magdalena Bay slip away from their usual fun selves at times, but there’s a payoff in the stark honesty that lies beneath the album’s concept. As it figures, not much else matters aside from the real, meaningful connections we make through life’s journey.
