Triple Fire
Since first splashing on to the Southern California circuit in the mid-aughts, Geneva Jacuzzi (nĂ©e Garvin) quickly cemented herself as the queen of the Los Angeles underground. Her immersive and unhinged multimedia performances are the stuff of legend, a psychotropic gallery of masks, costumes, confrontation, and massive art installations. Jacuzziâs recordings are equally revered, catchy hooks and cryptic moods dusted in 4-track grit. The arrival of her third official full-length, and Dais Records debut, is cause for such celebration. Triple Fire vividly expands and crystallizes Jacuzziâs signature fusion of midnight melody and mutant aerobics across a 12-track hit parade of wildcard synth-pop and sly post-apocalyptic camp. Her enthusiasm for the album is as bold as her body of work: âHalfway through, we started calling this the record of the prophecy, the record thatâs going to save mankind.â
Opener âLaps of Luxuryâ sets the template â a strobe-lit dreamerâs delight of swaggering synth bass, Haçienda drum machinery, and sultry vocal spellcasting (âTragic mysteries Iâve known for centuries / I burned all memories and turned to fantasyâ). The collection burns through shades of sardonic strut (âArt Is Dangerous,â âNu2U,â âKeep It Secretâ), coldwave kiss off (âSpeed Of Light,â co-produced by Andrew Clinco of Drab Majesty), retro-futurist body music (âDry,â âScene Ballerina,â âBow Tie Eaterâ), and cheeky glitterball pop (âTake It Or Leave It,â âHeart Full Of Poisonâ co-produced by Roderick Edens and Andrew Briggs). She likens the eclectic spectrum of moods to the continuum of human emotions: âFunny, sexy, sad, scary, witty, hopeful, menacing. Eventually it deconstructs, turns into a party, and then ends sweet and soft.â
Taken as a whole, Triple Fire comes as close as any document yet to capturing Jacuzziâs kaleidoscopic alchemy of pop sugar and chaos energy, flickering between icy and ironic, chic and surreal, hungry and heartsick. Hers is a muse as rare as it is regenerative, forever reborn at the precipice of the next chorus: âSomeone said that Alcatraz had fallen into the sea / Almost sounded like an angel calling me in a dream / I felt an electric shock when I picked up the microphone.â
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Triple Fire
Triple Fire
Since first splashing on to the Southern California circuit in the mid-aughts, Geneva Jacuzzi (nĂ©e Garvin) quickly cemented herself as the queen of the Los Angeles underground. Her immersive and unhinged multimedia performances are the stuff of legend, a psychotropic gallery of masks, costumes, confrontation, and massive art installations. Jacuzziâs recordings are equally revered, catchy hooks and cryptic moods dusted in 4-track grit. The arrival of her third official full-length, and Dais Records debut, is cause for such celebration. Triple Fire vividly expands and crystallizes Jacuzziâs signature fusion of midnight melody and mutant aerobics across a 12-track hit parade of wildcard synth-pop and sly post-apocalyptic camp. Her enthusiasm for the album is as bold as her body of work: âHalfway through, we started calling this the record of the prophecy, the record thatâs going to save mankind.â
Opener âLaps of Luxuryâ sets the template â a strobe-lit dreamerâs delight of swaggering synth bass, Haçienda drum machinery, and sultry vocal spellcasting (âTragic mysteries Iâve known for centuries / I burned all memories and turned to fantasyâ). The collection burns through shades of sardonic strut (âArt Is Dangerous,â âNu2U,â âKeep It Secretâ), coldwave kiss off (âSpeed Of Light,â co-produced by Andrew Clinco of Drab Majesty), retro-futurist body music (âDry,â âScene Ballerina,â âBow Tie Eaterâ), and cheeky glitterball pop (âTake It Or Leave It,â âHeart Full Of Poisonâ co-produced by Roderick Edens and Andrew Briggs). She likens the eclectic spectrum of moods to the continuum of human emotions: âFunny, sexy, sad, scary, witty, hopeful, menacing. Eventually it deconstructs, turns into a party, and then ends sweet and soft.â
Taken as a whole, Triple Fire comes as close as any document yet to capturing Jacuzziâs kaleidoscopic alchemy of pop sugar and chaos energy, flickering between icy and ironic, chic and surreal, hungry and heartsick. Hers is a muse as rare as it is regenerative, forever reborn at the precipice of the next chorus: âSomeone said that Alcatraz had fallen into the sea / Almost sounded like an angel calling me in a dream / I felt an electric shock when I picked up the microphone.â
Product Information
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Shipping & Returns
Shipping & Returns
Description
Since first splashing on to the Southern California circuit in the mid-aughts, Geneva Jacuzzi (nĂ©e Garvin) quickly cemented herself as the queen of the Los Angeles underground. Her immersive and unhinged multimedia performances are the stuff of legend, a psychotropic gallery of masks, costumes, confrontation, and massive art installations. Jacuzziâs recordings are equally revered, catchy hooks and cryptic moods dusted in 4-track grit. The arrival of her third official full-length, and Dais Records debut, is cause for such celebration. Triple Fire vividly expands and crystallizes Jacuzziâs signature fusion of midnight melody and mutant aerobics across a 12-track hit parade of wildcard synth-pop and sly post-apocalyptic camp. Her enthusiasm for the album is as bold as her body of work: âHalfway through, we started calling this the record of the prophecy, the record thatâs going to save mankind.â
Opener âLaps of Luxuryâ sets the template â a strobe-lit dreamerâs delight of swaggering synth bass, Haçienda drum machinery, and sultry vocal spellcasting (âTragic mysteries Iâve known for centuries / I burned all memories and turned to fantasyâ). The collection burns through shades of sardonic strut (âArt Is Dangerous,â âNu2U,â âKeep It Secretâ), coldwave kiss off (âSpeed Of Light,â co-produced by Andrew Clinco of Drab Majesty), retro-futurist body music (âDry,â âScene Ballerina,â âBow Tie Eaterâ), and cheeky glitterball pop (âTake It Or Leave It,â âHeart Full Of Poisonâ co-produced by Roderick Edens and Andrew Briggs). She likens the eclectic spectrum of moods to the continuum of human emotions: âFunny, sexy, sad, scary, witty, hopeful, menacing. Eventually it deconstructs, turns into a party, and then ends sweet and soft.â
Taken as a whole, Triple Fire comes as close as any document yet to capturing Jacuzziâs kaleidoscopic alchemy of pop sugar and chaos energy, flickering between icy and ironic, chic and surreal, hungry and heartsick. Hers is a muse as rare as it is regenerative, forever reborn at the precipice of the next chorus: âSomeone said that Alcatraz had fallen into the sea / Almost sounded like an angel calling me in a dream / I felt an electric shock when I picked up the microphone.â


















