One late night in Nov. 2022, on the dark streets of New York, a woman with the TikTok handle @princessazula0 filmed herself in front of an intersection. “You know what it never was?” she asked, seemingly to no-one in particular but her front-facing phone camera. The answer? “That serious. It was never that serious. Quite frankly, [it] will never be that serious.” This young woman didn’t know it at the time, but by uploading that clip to her social media platform of choice, she established a modern-day philosophy that even Descartes could have only dreamed of.
Is music an important, vital pursuit? Absolutely. Is independent music worth supporting, funding and—in many instances globally—saving? Without a doubt. But do you know what music also isn’t? That serious. Both notions, believe it or not, can exist in harmony. Just ask Angel Abaya,the singer, songwriter, and producer behind Gelli Haha.
The Boise-born, LA-based artist has clearly put a lot of time and effort into carefully crafting and curating Gelli’s persona and aesthetic—bright reds, children’s-show smiles, and just a pinch of the sinister for good measure. At the same time, she’s just as willing to play court jester as she is the main character.
All of this culminates into her debut album under the moniker, Switcheroo—a bold, bouncy electro adventure that dares to be different. It showcases Abaya’s vocal prowess and artsy eccentricities, while simultaneously letting her freak flag fly. You don’t need to look any further than the album’s opening number, “Funny Music,” to see this duality at play. Amid a swirl of spiralling synthesizers, Abaya unleashes her inner Kate Bush with flourishes of head-voice falsetto. Then, suddenly, it all comes to a smash-cut end with an onomatopoeic “bonk” sound effect. It’s dead-in-your-tracks, laugh-out-loud stuff—even when you go back after the first listen and know that it’s coming. That’s not just great comedic timing; it’s also the sign of exceptional songwriting prowess.
Across Switcheroo‘s 10 tracks, Abaya serves as the Dr. Frankenstein to Gelli Haha’s monster. She canonically maintains a steady mix of the seriously strange and the strangely serious in equal measure. “Piss Artist” is the album’s spoken-word centerpiece. It recalls the likes of Chicks On Speed and New Young Pony Club with its nonchalant electroclash and decidedly deadpan delivery. No spoilers on the story within the track, but a little imagination might offer somewhat of an idea.
She locks into warped roller-disco on “Normalize,” gets a spring in her step with the rubbery weirdness of “Bounce House,” and raves unto the joy fantastic on the brilliantly-titled “Pluto is Not a Planet, It’s a Restaurant.” Wherever Gelli Haha takes you musically, you’re inclined to follow—even if solely out of sheer intrigue about where you’re headed.
There are occasional moments across the record where the quirkiness begins to mildly chafe. It’s not all-out irritation, mind you, but just enough to know where the boundaries of the Gelli Haha project lie. “Gelliverse” grates with its repetitive structure and lack of fundamentals, while Abaya’s shouty delivery and deteriorating harmonics on “Tiramisu” make it an easy skip. When she sings, “What the hell is going on?” you’ll likely be asking yourself the same thing.
It’s worth noting, of course, that no debut album comes without flaws. In context, it’s honestly more impressive how much Switcheroo gets right than wrong. Gelli Haha isn’t destined for arena pop stardom or a Chappell Roan-style blow-up, but Switcheroo is ultimately just fine with that. It’s flourishing, and in its own lane entirely. Besides, it was never that serious.
CONE Mag Score: 78/100
Byline: David James Young