Maybe it’s obvious that W00dy’s music is an
outlet for her to explore her lifelong battle with mental illness, as the
Pittsburgh artist’s releases are a headlong rush of 160+ BPM releases that
leave you feeling like you need to grip the sides of whatever vehicle you’re in
as you careen around corners and up and down hills, never quite sure if you’re
going to make it through without crashing. While that’s not my suggestion of
what it feels like to endure mental illness, I can only imagine that the
sufferer’s thought processes are less than linear. The music of My Diary is also less than linear, and
also careens at a breakneck pace. But instead of a negative, inward, or
self-loathing experience, My Diary is
an absolute joy to listen to.
Fully and exuberantly club music, My Diary draws from entries in the
titular tome to build a sort-of concept album about living with mental illness.
Vocal samples punctuate the gritty techno tracks like they’re half-remembered
smears of conversations or arguments, wordless chants that splatter the digital
canvas along with the angular beat tectonics. One thing that W00dy doesn’t do:
wallow in any sort of self-pity. She’s like a Cornish pixie behind her gear,
flitting about and causing mischief and mayhem, maybe a little property damage,
but in the end it’s all for the good of the party, for the listeners, for the
people in the audience who have tasked W00dy with responsibility of
enlightening their evening. W00dy always seems up to the task, and My Diary is no different.
--Ryan
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