Michael Koleski – Somewhere the Angels are Screaming

Artist: Michael Koleski
Title: Somewhere the Angels are Screaming
Keywords: experimental punk acidrock lo-fi outsider music psycho-delic Detroit
Reviewer: Willem van O.

Michael Koleski doesn’t only smoke like a troubled poet, he actually sounds like he is actually one. Not a smoke, but indeed a poet. He informs that he doesn’t write while under influence, but he gets high after, as some kind of stress relief. Lets presume that it’s true (which he contradicts in most of his tracks), as the man sounds pretty much high on himself. It’s a cheap drug to be high on yourself, it takes lots of personality to make it consumable, but somehow with this album he presumably covers his own life on the corners of the self inflicted rock bottom life style.

With Micheal’s album it feels as if he takes you there with him in some kind of video vlog in audio form, one in which he puts himself upfront in the situations of his surroundings. It’s all about him, himself and he, or perhaps a fictional character he knows a hell of a lot about. He drops the themes ‘drugs’ , sex and alcoholism in many of his works, even though struggling with it, he clearly makes it sound somewhat cool to be in some kind of dazed drunken state. He or his conceptual character is obviously the middle point of his own attention, being his own muse, ready to jerk off to his own ego without the ability to get too hard from himself; if nobody puts you on a plate of adoration, you have to be your own fruitful admirer!

He might be a narcissistic artist, but as his own subject in his artwork, (a self described low life that isn’t down to earth), he manages to give a great look inside his own troubled mind and the things that keeps it troubled. Music wise it isn’t a lot to write for; the guitar experiments are more backdrops dipped down to fill in the silence, it’s there, but not too loud as Michael Koleski’s voice and words are obviously the most important activities here. His mind is on his tongue and the artist’s self awareness is rolling out over it with a rapid uncensored speed.

It feels as if this concept album is actually a kind of self-help therapy, one in which he seem to try to analyze himself, to perhaps try to understand how he ended up in this mess & if there is perhaps a way to get out of it, or at least some way to get on. Elevating or even glamorizing the state of being fucked up might indeed be the way forward? In any case the album comes across as a very personal work & if it isn’t, if it’s purely a fictional work, channeling the mind of an vulgar sex obsessed drug-fueled own piss drinking artist… well… bravo, as it’s a job well done!

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