Lil Death by Pictureplane: A Sonic Headtrip You Didn’t Know You Needed
Let’s get one thing straight—Pictureplane’s Lil Death isn’t your run-of-the-mill electronic album. Released in 2013 under Thump, this record is like that weird cousin who shows up to family gatherings wearing neon and talking about aliens. It’s chaotic, raw, and kinda genius. With genres spanning electronic, rock, hip-hop, and styles dipping into synth-pop, industrial, electro, experimental, and minimal vibes, it’s a smorgasbord of sounds that shouldn’t work but somehow does.
The artwork? Wildly eye-catching, thanks to Steven Griffin. The photos by Vanessa Irena give off serious “I’m too cool for this world” energy. And as for the tracks? Buckle up, because Pictureplane takes you on a ride that feels part dance party, part existential crisis.
Tracks That Stick: "Sin" and "Troll Spray"
First up, let’s talk about “Sin.” This track slaps harder than an overpriced coffee order at 7 AM. From the moment those synths kick in, it’s clear this ain’t your grandma’s chill playlist (unless your grandma is secretly an avant-garde DJ). There’s something hypnotic about how Pictureplane layers distorted vocals over pulsating beats—it’s dark yet oddly inviting, like stepping into a rave held inside an abandoned warehouse. Every time I hear it, I picture neon lights flickering against cracked concrete walls. It’s not just a song; it’s an experience.
Then there’s “Troll Spray,” which might be my favorite title ever. If trolling had a soundtrack, this would be it. The beat hits hard enough to make you wanna stomp around your room yelling nonsense lyrics. But beneath all the chaos lies a surprisingly catchy rhythm that worms its way into your brain. By the third listen, you’ll find yourself humming along even though you have no clue what half the words mean. That’s the magic of Pictureplane—they make confusion sound downright irresistible.
Reflections (and a Random Thought)
Listening to Lil Death feels like being handed a mixtape from some mysterious figure lurking in the shadows of Denver’s underground scene (which, fun fact, is where Pictureplane hails from). It’s messy, unpredictable, and unapologetically itself. Sure, not every track lands perfectly, but when they do, wow. You’re left wondering if Pictureplane is actually a musical genius or just really good at faking it.
Here’s the kicker: after blasting this album on repeat, I started noticing patterns in my own life that mirrored its themes—chaos disguised as control, beauty hidden in ugliness, and moments of clarity amidst total madness. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Either way, Lil Death sticks with you long after the last note fades.
Oh, and here’s the random thought: if Pictureplane ever decides to drop a cooking show, sign me up immediately. Because if their music is any indication, their recipes would involve ingredients like sriracha ice cream and edible glitter. And honestly? I’d eat it.