B-Side Guys

Self-excavation rarely sounds this visceral. On “Oh, Hyper,” Portland-based transfemme artist JKL aka YLLW (pronounced “j k l a k a yellow”) delivers a January 2025 release that transforms personal reckoning into sonic exploration, blending alternative hip-hop’s confessional directness with psychedelic rock’s disorienting textures to create something as fractured and complex as the identity struggles it documents.

From its opening declaration of having “crashed my way from suitable,” the track establishes both narrative focus and emotional intensity. This automotive metaphor of collision recurs throughout, serving as perfect framework for examining how internalized toxic masculinity functions as both vehicle and wreckage—a means of navigating the world that ultimately leads to destruction.

The production brilliantly mirrors this thematic duality. Lo-fi bedroom pop elements create intimate immediacy, while psychedelic flourishes introduce disorienting perspective shifts that complement the lyrical exploration of identity fragmentation. This approach allows JKL aka YLLW to simultaneously occupy roles of researcher and subject, examining past behaviors with clinical precision while conveying their emotional impact with unflinching honesty.

Most compelling is the track’s examination of performative aggression as defense mechanism. When referencing “a coward’s role the aggressor” and describing standing tall without asking for help, JKL aka YLLW identifies how masculine posturing often conceals profound vulnerability. This insight transforms what might be simple confession into genuine social commentary, suggesting personal experience as microcosm of broader cultural patterns.

The chorus—focused on excessive drinking and the compulsion for “more” that’s “never enough”—captures addiction’s circular logic while extending the metaphor to toxic masculinity itself. This parallel implies that performative masculinity functions similarly to substance dependence: providing temporary relief while deepening fundamental disconnection, creating cycle of behavior that’s simultaneously destructive and self-perpetuating.

The bridge delivers emotional culmination through deliberate compositional restraint, allowing the confession of “face taut with past shame” to resonate without ornamental distraction. This selective minimalism demonstrates remarkable artistic maturity, reserving structural complexity for moments requiring emotional distance while embracing simplicity when directness serves emotional authenticity.

As part of an album exploring queerness, “Oh, Hyper” serves not just as personal testimony but as cultural documentation of how gender expectations fracture authentic identity. Through their multi-instrumental and production capabilities, JKL aka YLLW creates soundscape as complex and contradictory as the relationship between assigned identity and authentic selfhood—suggesting that understanding these tensions requires not just intellectual analysis but immersive emotional experience.