Magdalena Bay – ‘Imaginal Disk’ review: a time capsule of post-internet existentialism

21 August, 2024

Magdalena Bay

“You are formless, yet you are still you,” write LA synth-pop duo Magdalena Bay on the eerie corridors of the darkly sci-fi website that accompanies their second album, ‘Imaginal Disk’. It’s the sort of metaphysical, techno-spiritual world-building fans expect: today’s alt-pop is no stranger to otherworldly e-girl pantomime and puzzling fictional websites, and Magdalena Bay’s expands upon their mysterious universe.

Over five years, Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin’s vaporwave fantasia has spanned post-internet mysticism and new-age philosophies. Their acclaimed debut, 2021’s ‘Mercurial World’ – a surreal silvery disco that landed somewhere between Grimes and Chvrches – was cacophonous and maximalist hyperspace pop, vast and unending. Satire and sincerity drove their Y2K retro-futurist vision, where the overstimulating internet became a portal to self-discovery. Their chops garnered a credit on the debut EP from TWICE‘s Jihyo, and even Lil Yachty got Magdalena-fever on 2023’s ‘Running Out of Time’.

Across the kitschy pilgrimage of its cerebral follow-up ‘Imaginal Disk’, Tenenbaum and Lewin further consolidate this lore, but cracks in the matrix – the real world, the negative effects of being terminally online, etc – threaten the euphoria of online escapism. It’s soundtracked by the same anachronistic, trippy synth-pop of its predecessor but grounded by the busk-y tambourine and analogue percussion of indie-pop.

There’s an artful slant thanks to Chairlift-indebted avant-pop, yet it’s never pretentious or – despite its sci-fi narrative – too concerned with the future. It’s still innovative, mind, but where ‘Mercurial World’ was informed by modern pop, ‘Imaginal Disk’ avoids the influence of new music almost entirely, according to press material.

Nostalgic instrumentation softens the synth-pop edge of ‘Imaginal Disk’, which has the added benefit of cementing its instant timelessness, imbuing the record with a campy, psychedelic, maudlin approach – one that feels all the more interesting as a counter to minimalist, bratty, party pop.

While gothic, theatrical St Vincent-ish vocals infatuate the wistful ‘Vampire in the Corner’, a Woodstock shrooms trip inspires the hypnotic delusion of the satirical ‘Love is Everywhere’ (which interpolates that sun-drenched Lil Yachty cut). Then, an 80s-inspired, I Saw the TV Glow-coded monster stalks the accompanying video for indie-disco track ‘Image’; celestial horns and echo chambers usher soft-pop armageddon on the unravelling groove-rock of standout ‘Tunnel Vision’, and Tenenbaum is a dancefloor deity on noughties grunge banger ‘That’s My Floor’.

By the time the technicolour show-stopper ‘The Ballad of Mica and Matt’ reprises the cutesy melody of its earthbound, pacifist opener ‘She Looked Like Me!’, it’s crystal that ‘Imaginal Disk’ captures the visionaries at their most expansive, yet corporeal. Stylishly gauche and expertly overproduced, kaleidoscopically experimental and expressionistic, ‘Imaginal Disk’ is a zeitgeisty time capsule of anxious post-internet existentialism and the online condition observed through a synthy flower-power lens. Here, Magdalena Bay are underrated pop messiahs at the top of their game.