In an era of constant overstimulation, a trio of cartoon rodents is offering an unlikely form of calm. The best album I've heard this year is not a new release but a 2015 compilation of slowed-down covers by Alvin, Simon, and Theodore. Originally recorded decades ago, these tracks have been transformed into sludgy, doomy renditions of late-70s punk and new wave hits like 'My Sharona' and 'Call Me'. The guitars are thick and squelchy, the drums thudding and slow, and the vocals have a strange, almost lobotomised quality.
The project, called Chipmunks on 16 Speed, was created by Canadian musician Brian Borcherdt, best known as one half of experimental duo Holy Fuck. He bought an old 16rpm turntable designed for spoken-word records and began playing normal 45rpm records on it, slowing them to a disorienting crawl. His masterwork came from playing the Chipmunks album 'Chipmunk Punk'—a cynical 1980 attempt to capitalise on punk—at 16rpm. The high-pitched vocals returned to their natural register, while the instruments became glacially slow.
Borcherdt released the slowed tracks on SoundCloud and Bandcamp, and the project has since gained cult status, periodically going viral on TikTok and Twitter. Fans have reimagined the Chipmunks as doomed rock stars, with comments like 'RIP Alvin. Saw him live only once. Cleveland, 81.' The decelerated songs are both menacing and beguiling, with moments of genuine heaviness—the guitar tone on the cover of Pat Benatar's 'Heartbreaker' rivals any doom metal band. Yet there is also beauty: 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' becomes a Beach Boys-style spiritual, and the chorus of 'Jessie's Girl' emerges from the sludge in a sunburst of harmony.
Slowing music is not new. In the early 2010s, tracks by Justin Bieber were stretched to ambient lengths, and more recently, 'slowed + reverb' remixes of rap and R&B have become an enduring internet microgenre. The trend has also infiltrated Hollywood, with movie trailers often featuring sad, slowed-down versions of upbeat songs. But the Chipmunks at 16rpm offer something unique: a haunting, found-tape quality that provides a mesmerising escape from the noise of modern life.
