Staff Pix 2/27: Magical
“Spellbound” by Siouxsie and the Banshees
“Spellbound” (1981) is the perfect example of Siouxsie and the Banshees’ magnetizing goth sound. Released as the first single from the band’s fourth studio album, Juju, “Spellbound” brews up Siouxsie Sioux’s hypnotic vocals, bewitching guitar riffs, and a heavy bassline to send you floating in mid-air. From her geometrical makeup to her voice wavering between deep, dark corners and fully fledged pleas, the magic of Siouxsie Sioux comes from her demand for attention. The song opens with her declaration of our helplessness: “From the cradle bars / Comes a beckoning voice / It sends you spinning / You have no choice.” Her free-falling lyrics equate being in love with being spellbound—in fact, that’s exactly what the song is about. Sioux asks us to let ourselves fall with our eyes closed, to accept the rush of our hearts: “Following the footsteps / Of a rag doll dance / We are entranced.” Ultimately “Spellbound” is an ode to the enchantment of love and the magic that comes from being disarmed. — Heather Thorn
“Belfast” by Orbital
Something holy is preserved in this track: some current of that ancient Dionysian ecstasy where the boundaries of self dissolve—whether because of the drugs coursing through your veins or the liquid sound has made of your muscles—and you are nothing more than a vessel for chaotic, primordial energy, wiggling around other bodies whose hopes and heartbeats you can hear in the very fibers of your warm, moist flesh. A relic of early UK rave culture, “Belfast” is named after the capital of Northern Ireland, but is in actuality a plasma vortex—one swirling portal of emotion that exists outside of space-time. The beats are so full, the chords so prismatic, the operatic sample so divine that notions of God, world peace, Agape, invincibility all become for a moment tangible. If they are delusions of grandeur or radical imagination, only a sober mind might judge. By the last minute, the sound has become viscous, sticking to itself like the shirt plastered to your back, not wanting to ever leave this moment of union. Not wanting the spell to ever break. — Christian Jones
“Magic I Want U” by Jane Remover
Can you feel that? “Magic I Want U” by Jane Remover, released on September 4th, 2024 along with its b-side “How to Teleport,” felt like the obvious choice for this week’s staff pix theme. The song combines fuzzy guitar, layered synths, and drum breaks to create a seamless blend of pop, emo, and r&b with heavy electronic, hyperpop, and digicore influence. Airhorn and alarm sounds appear frequently throughout the track as well, proving that Remover hasn’t forgotten their background as an internet rap artist. Though her control of DAW is magical enough, the song’s lyrics aren’t about literal magic, but rather the magic of having a crush. Ultimately, Remover turns that explosive feeling of infatuation into a hyper-digital maximalist work of art. — Emeline Chopin
“In The Flowers” by Animal Collective
There were many contenders taken into serious consideration before writing this blurb which is of the utmost importance to me, a self-proclaimed lover of all music characterized as magical and otherwise. This long list of my favorite ethereal, synth-based songs was almost entirely composed of Animal Collective / Panda Bear / Avery Tare. With serious consideration and contemplation, I came to the conclusion that “In The Flowers” is the most magical song of all time. From the very start, with layered samples of guitar reverb, it feels like you’re being sucked through a portal, transported into a new world where the land’s heartbeat croaks “I’m a dancer.” The track revolves around this dancer, the narrator and the subject of his imagination. A cloak of mystique envelops the figure who is physically and emotionally transcendent, the dancer has and always will be a form of transcendence, a mode of resistance, and a feeling of otherness. The enchanting layered reverb only heightens this, every chord, every raindrop collecting at the base of the song until it all suddenly bursts. A wash of live drums, synths upon synths, and a simple repeated piano melody creates an enormous, cathartic release of song. It’s arguably the best beat drop of all time, at least in my realm of music knowledge. And nothing beats the immense sense of calm, the abrupt silence that accompanies the subsiding pleas and chants of “To hold you in time.” — Sophie Parrish
“Tell me I never knew that” by caroline, Caroline Polachek
Anything Caroline Polachek gets her hands on tends to result in something slightly otherworldly. In early 2025 she teamed up with London’s own caroline. The 8-piece is known for their progressive approach to indie and folk music, making them and Polachek a heavenly combination. The song centers around a glistening guitar riff and Polachek’s unique vocal style, with all of caroline’s unusual folk-y elements of violins, horns, ambient production, all wrapped up with warm bass complimenting the entire track. The song shines through its mixing and mastering, as it guides each small component to find and lose each other. It makes it feel as if the song was being sung by the trees and its birds. — Mario Sierra
“Getting Away With It” by Electronic
I like when music breathes. You can feel the inhale of strings in this early 90s ballad, its strong and almost tips the listener with the message of the song. But don’t be surprised when you hear its exhale. When New Order’s Bernard Sumner, The Smith’s Johnny Marr, and Neil Tennant of The Pet Shop Boys get together to make a song, there is some sort of physical reaction that occurs upon each listen. Maybe not one of pure magic, but the kind that feels wrong to be able to do. It’s a spell particularly special for those who need a reminder, whatever it may be. — Salem Ross
“Up Up” by Elusin
“Up Up” from Elusin’s 2022 album Synfuels creates a dreamlike atmosphere through lush ambient production and airy, gentle vocals. The album incorporates both witch house and shoegaze elements, with hazy layering, heavy reverb, and dark, slow-moving synths. Compared to other songs on the album, the drums stand out more on this track, adding a stronger tempo that makes it feel hypnotic in a sense. The album really stands out because its soft electronic production makes it feel surreal and almost otherworldly. It feels like drifting on the surface of cold water when no one else is around to see. The lyrics are also filled with direct references to guns—“100 rounds recoil like a choir”—blending violence with something strangely poetic. Her voice is so airy and whispery, to the point where you can barely make out the words, that the imagery doesn’t feel aggressive and almost obscures the subject matter. The layered sounds give the track a sense of fullness, yet it still feels light and weightless. — Shruthi Krishnakumar
“Birth of the Flower (Seagreen)” by Candy Claws
Perfectly described by its title, “Birth of the Flower (Seagreen)”, is straight out of a fairy-themed musical jewelry box—but its magic lies within a more scientific kind of wonder. An arrangement of strings opens the track into a scene of paradisiacal beauty; the beauty of a world presented by dream-pop duo Candy Claws in their third studio album, Ceres & Calypso in the Deep Time, a concept album that narrates the journey of a seal beast and her human companion through the Mesozoic Era. In terms of sound, the track has all the tranquility of a classical lullaby combined with the whimsicality of an underwater Super Mario Bros level. Contextually, the song paints a picture of the once-existing Sundance Sea, peppered with massive sea creatures, insects, and some of the first ever flowers. Among twinkling orchestral instrumentals, vocalist Karen Hover hushedly sings, “Suddenly the sight / Of color everywhere / A flower whispers in your ear.” The melody unfurls like the soft new petals of the flowers, leaving you lost in time to that delicate moment when the world began to bloom. — Julia Schramm
“The Other Side” by Dismemberment Plan
There are plenty of Dismemberment Plan songs which I would describe as ‘magical,’ and I imagine some fans will see this review as a missed opportunity to cover “I Love a Magician” instead, as it literally has the word magic in it and also just happens to be another one of my favorites from the band. However, as much as I love that song, “The Other Side” has to be one of the most hypnotic, otherworldly rock songs I’ve ever heard, so much so that it unlocked a surreal childhood memory for me which I’m still not sure whether or not it was a dream. I was in some dimly lit gymnasium, probably seven or eight years old zoning out at a patch of light on the wall. The light on the wall fascinated me because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out where it was coming from, there were no windows that I could see and no other lights that could’ve produced it. As I focused on the patch of light I noticed it wasn’t just a light, but a projection of clouds, and I could see they were slowly moving. It was like there was a window there showing me the sky, only there was no window, just a square of moving clouds projected onto the wall. When I first listened to “The Other Side,” this dream/memory popped into my head instantly, the song capturing the very distinct, ethereal and celestial feeling that I had directly associated with the dream. The fact that the song’s cover art is a dreamy retro photograph of clouds in the sky could explain why my mind made this correlation, but I assert that as soon as I heard the rapid introductory drums leading into the echoing, dreamlike guitar harmony, it felt as though I was listening to a dream rocket ship blasting off and taking me on a journey through some surreal inner dimension. I understand this isn’t typically how one would review a song, and that describing the feeling of listening to it rather than the instrumentation or lyrics may seem like a cop out, but I genuinely think I would be doing a disservice to this song if I didn’t speak to how genuinely magical listening to it feels to me. I can’t say any other song has been able to unlock a childhood dream/memory and made me feel what I felt in that possibly real or imagined experience. That’s why I’d rather not pick apart the musical structure for this particular song, as I think it’s such a personal, introspective experience that needs to be heard with the listener not knowing what to expect. Maybe it will make you daydream too. — Diego Gonzalez
“Holy Diver” by Dio
I’ve played enough Dungeons & Dragons to confidently say that I know ball when it comes to heavy metal. Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, the hundreds of bands from the ‘80s named after places in Middle Earth… if we’re talking magic, none of them can touch the soaring vocals, killer riffs and borderline-nonsense lyrics of Dio. “Holy Diver” was released as the first single and title track from Dio’s debut album, and also Ronnie James Dio’s first output since his departure from Black Sabbath. As was the case on Sabbath’s Heaven and Hell, the real highlight of “Holy Diver”—both the album and the single—is Ronnie’s commanding, almost operatic style of vocal performance, the influence of which can be felt on just about every heavy metal record that came after. As for the lyrics, Ronnie claims that they tell the story of a Christ-like messiah on a far away planet sacrificing himself to save his extraterrestrial brethren—so basically the plot of Dune. In short, if you need music to play in the background while you cast evil spells, commune with the devil, or write a D&D campaign, Dio has got you covered. — Mimi Newman
“Magic” By Ben Folds Five
This whole album is magic. Sometimes haunting, sometimes raucous. Legend has it the entire eleven track oeuvre was once a single extended megatrack cut up only once it was time for publication. Each time I listen I seek that common thread, the musical motif that ties together the work, and each time it eludes me. “Magic” itself is ginger, bare. The piano which dominates Ben Folds Five’s sound is here stripped down, raw and twinkling, accompanied by a simple rolling bassline and steady tambourine. The lyrics speak of a reverent yearning, the simple chorus: saw you last night, danced by the light of the moon. stars in your eyes, free from the life that you knew. Delivered breathy and slow, almost like a lullaby, pushing a lost love out into the night sky. It makes me feel happy, in a strange way. The beautiful catharsis that comes with finally letting you love go, with knowing they’re happy somewhere and perhaps that’s all that matters. An onset of timpani cuts through the subdued yearning. A song so tragic still finds a way to feel triumphant when down to the bitter end. Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner is seriously one of the best albums I know, and “Magic” is only the beginning. I’m begging any reader to give it a shot. You won’t be disappointed. — Declan Ireland