Indierock | Alternative Tape 439 Items

Lucky For You is Bully's most close-to-the-bone album yet. It's an album that's searing and unmistakably marked by its creator's experiences, while still retaining the massive sound that Alicia Bognanno has become known for over the last decade. Her fourth album draws from personal pain and the universal struggle that is existing, learning, and moving on-and it's all soundtracked by Bognanno's rock-solid melodic sensibilities and a widescreen sound that's impossible to pin down when it comes to the textures explored. These ten songs are simply the most irresistible Bognanno's put to tape yet, making Lucky For You her greatest triumph to date in a career already packed with them. Work on Lucky For You began last year, when Bognanno brought some in-progress demos to producer J.T. Daly in his Nashville studio to see if they could strike creative kismet. "Authenticity is always on my mind, without even knowing it," she explains while discussing their recording process together. "It was great with J.T., because I could tell he was a genuine fan who wanted to emphasize what's actually good about my writing instead of changing it. I could tell how much he cared about the project, and it meant alot to me." The album came together over the course of seven months, the longest gestation process for a Bully record to date, but that time allowed inspiration to emerge in new ways. The result is a kaleidoscopic rock record spanning punk's grit, the crunchy bliss of shoegaze, explosive Britpop, and the type of classic anthems Bully has been known for. Lucky For You's thematic focus zooms in on grief and loss: The record is largely inspired by Bognanno's dog and best friend Mezzi passing away, at a time when her life already felt as if in metamorphosis. The oceanic first single "Days Move Slow" was written shortly after Mezzi's passing, reflecting the persistence of Bognanno's incisive wit in the face of adversity. "There was nothing I could do except sit down and write it, and it felt so good." And then there's the passionate opening track "All I Do," which kicks in the door with huge riffs atop her lyrical reflections on three years of sobriety. "Once I stopped drinking, I felt like I was still haunted by mistakes and things that had happened when I was drinking, and it's still taking me a long time to forget about that while existing in this house. How do I shed the skin from a path I've moved on from?" In that vein, Lucky For You is a document of perseverance in the face of the big and the small stuff. "I'm so overly emotional and sensitive, it's a blessing and a curse" she says with a laugh, but there's no downside to her expressions of vulnerability on this record; it's the latest bit of evidence that nothing can hold Bognanno back.

A Wednesday song is a quilt. A short story collection, a half-memory, a patchwork of portraits of the American south, disparate moments that somehow make sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter/ vocalist/guitarist at the helm of the project, is a story collector as much as she is a storyteller: a scholar of people and one-liners. Rat Saw God, the Asheville quintet's new and best record, is ekphrastic but autobiographical and above all, deeply empathetic. Across the album's ten tracks Hartzman, guitarist MJ Lenderman, bassist Margo Shultz, drummer Alan Miller, and lap/pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis build a shrine to minutiae. Half-funny, half-tragic dispatches from North Carolina unfurling somewhere between the wailing skuzz of Nineties shoegaze and classic country twang, that distorted lap steel and Hartzman's voice slicing through the din. Rat Saw God is an album about riding a bike down a suburban stretch in Greensboro while listening to My Bloody Valentine for the first time on an iPod Nano, past a creek that runs through the neighborhood riddled with broken glass bottles and condoms, a front yard filled with broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by kudzu. Four Lokos and rodeo clowns and a kid who burns down a corn field. Roadside monuments, church marquees, poppers and vodka in a plastic water bottle, the shit you get away with at Jewish summer camp, strange sentimental family heirlooms at the thrift stores. The way the South hums alive all night in the summers and into fall, the sound of high school football games, the halo effect from the lights polluting the darkness. It's not really bright enough to see in front of you, but in that stretch of inky void - somehow - you see everything. The songs on Rat Saw God don't recount epics, just the everyday. They're true, they're real life, blurry and chaotic and strange - which is in-line with Hartzman's own ethos: "Everyone's story is worthy," she says, plainly. "Literally every life story is worth writing down, because people are so fascinating." But the thing about Rat Saw God - and about any Wednesday song, really - is you don't necessarily even need all the references to get it, the weirdly specific elation of a song that really hits. Yeah, it's all in the details - how fucked up you got or get, how you break a heart, how you fall in love, how you make yourself and others feel seen - but it's mostly the way those tiny moments add up into a song or album or a person.

Girls At Our Best! were one of the greatest and most influential bands to emerge in the early 1980s as part of a new wave of independent acts. DJ John Peel championed them, playing their singles repeatedly and inviting them to record a session for his programme. Wry vocalist Judy Evans and brutal yet melodic guitarist James Alan who’d met at art college in Leeds fronted Girls At Our Best!, the proto-Indie band that formed from the ashes of Alan’s 1977 punk band SOS! Pleasure, the sole album, reached number two in the Indie Chart. It was an album so different from the rest of the post-punk indie pack that you can still play it now and completely baffle new listeners. As John Peel said about Roxy Music, it just doesn’t seem to relate to anything else.

As Warped Tour pop-punk and American Apparel indie rock dominated the strange post-Y2K guitar-band milieu, Boston's Karate delivered an engrossing shot of rock that constantly shifted between several shades of subterranean sounds. The quiet moments on Karate's millennium busting fourth album carry much of that old, unbridled intensity, braided into subdued jazz melodies and slowcore restraint. Karate's transition into rock maturity bore supple fruit with Unsolved, presented here with three previously unreleased songs.

Everything eventually turns to dust. Everyone knows this, but few want to acknowledge that our time on this mortal coil is fleeting, preferring to remain in stasis, in hopes that "the end" will pass them by. Chicago trio Facs (guitarist Brian Case, bassist Alianna Kalaba & drummer Noah Leger) have been perfecting their brand of intense, cathartic post-punk over the course of four ever-evolving albums, beginning with 2017's "Negative Houses" thru 2021's landmark "Present Tense', which saw the trio dig deep into the gaping maw of a black hole & pulling back whatever debris they could grasp onto. Their newest "Still Life In Decay" comes as an addendum to the last album - a "post-event review" if you will. "Still Life In Decay" starts with a squall of white noise before collapsing into the band already locked into "Constellation"s lumbering groove, with Case's guitar a ghostly presence, appearing & disappearing in washes of gauzy feedback throughout the track. Facs have never been more locked in as a unit, and "Still Life In Decay" is a decidedly more focused effort. The apocalyptic chaos that defined their previous album "Present Tense" is waved away in favor of an examination of events with cumbrous clarity. Facs are a heavy band, but they don't necessarily Feel like one (see side two's "Still Life", where Case's fluttering, melodic guitar lines are buoyed by the insistent, underlying pulse of the bass & drums). As a rhythm section, Kalaba & Leger dance & twist around each other like a double helix, forming the DNA of what makes Facs special. Collectively they approach rhythm from outside the groove as opposed to inside it, creating a lattice where Case weaves guitar lines like creeping vines, which makes the moments on "Still Life In Decay" where the band Does lock in even more powerful. When the guitar punctures the lock-step swing of "When You Say", it hits like a hammer. Case utilizes his lyrics like a person suffering from anterograde amnesia; repeating phrases & holding onto old memories in a desperate attempt to avoid the slide into oblivion. Freeform poetic missives touching on themes of resignation, cynicism, class warfare, and a search for identity & meaning in a crumbling society; A primal desire to hold onto anything in a post-pandemic barrage of sensory overload. The album is a decidedly local affair; recorded once again at Chicago's famed Electrical Audio by renowned engineer Sanford Parker & mixed at his Hypercube Studio in Chicago's Ravenswood neighborhood & mastered by Matthew Barnhart at Chicago Mastering Service.

Ace Cassette version (with 2 Extra Songs) of the recent LP from contemporary Irish guitarist Jonny Dillon. Beautifully recorded blues / folk guitar pieces. TIP!

Jonny Dillon’s debut acoustic album ‘Songs For A One-String Guitar’ took the listening public by surprise and the critics by storm when it dropped out of the blue on All-City in 2019. It represented a departure for an artist who was renowned for having the Midas touch when it came to coaxing dance floor fire from all manner of hardware. But fortune favours the brave and temporarily setting the machinery aside and following an acoustic path to the waterfall has already reaped rich rewards for Jonny Dillon. He’ll never say it in so many words but here’s a man on a mission: “Fail as I may, I have to go back and try again every time, to wait in hope for a glimpse of the spirit that hovers over the face of the deep, and to keep watch for the Light that shines in the darkness.”

The generosity of spirit which is the linchpin of all great music is something that can neither be cheaply conjured nor ever easily faked, god forbid. It’s the elusive emotional conductor in the spinal cord of sound - a foundational component of that mysterious feeling of connection we as listeners are seeking every time we put the needle on the record or press play on a song. The very essence of the thing we seek, in short. The holy grail. When sweet music hits, it’s the spirit that moves us and it’s both the source of the power within it as well as ultimately the place where it resides inside of us too, once heard. This is how music works. Journeying. Spirit to spirit. From the makers and dreamers of the dream to dreamers in general. The indomitable spirit inherent in the instrumental guitar compositions and distinctive finger picking style of Jonny Dillon is a case in point. This is spiritful music of a rarer kind made by an artist as inherently attuned to the troubling times we are living through as he is to the value of carving out new paths to the waterfall through the medium of sound on our behalf. Boom and there it is. Much needed guidance. A priceless new navigational tool of the imagination to help us all through the maze.

Just like the debut offering, this a path inherently worth following too, every step of the way. This time Jonny’s singular playing style finds true expression in a sound world expertly shaped by a master of the production craft, John ’Spud’ Murphy in Hellfire Studio. Masters at work, times two. Like all dream productions, it quickly assumes three dimensional proportions and becomes a place to go in and of itself, worth returning and retreating to, time and again. On A New Directive From The Bureau of Compulsory Entertaintment, his mode of expression is as clear and impactful as the immediate impression the sound makes on us. His is a strong game. He rises to the occasion and fulfils a great need on our part in so doing. We have to give thanks where it’s due. Balms for the soul are hardly two-a-penny in these challenging times but this is a timely one and of a lasting kind too. In stripping everything back and breaking his sound down into the bare component parts of reverberating steel strings on resonant wood, he has tapped into a kind of universal music of the spheres. It’s in tune with the times and more. Big picture sound with heart and soul to match. The iridescent sound he conjures from that same deep is a joyous thing to behold imbued as it is with a kind of light that never goes out. A dozen jewels adorn this timeless creation, each one a glimpse of eternity. They will shimmer forever. Man gets tired. Spirit don’t.

Dónal Dineen, January 2023.

Manzanita is the common name for a kind of small evergreen tree endemic to California which has strong medicinal properties. It's also the name of the brand new full length by visual artist, writer, songwriter, and musician Shana Cleveland. Subtle, powerful, and unafraid. We can't actually tell you how much we love this record because you'd never believe us, so we'll just say that it is her strongest and most personal album to date. These songs are as strong as the bricks in the Brill building, and seem destined to be covered by others in years to come. Where her previous record, 2019's Night of the Worm Moon (Hardly Art) functions as a collection of speculative fictions equally inspired by Afro-futurist pioneers Herman "Sun Ra" Blount and Octavia Butler, Manzanita concerns the love that loves to love. "This is a supernatural love album set in the California wilderness," Cleveland explains. The combinations of words and song structure are so strong throughout that one hardly notices Cleveland's nimble fingerpicking on first listen, or how much is packed into the arrangements. The lyrics are satisfyingly direct, with the buoyantly whimsical descriptions typical of the 1960s New York School of poetry. It's peppered with the kind of unexpected turns that make the words more modern, and in their spookiness they are more West Coast, as in "Mystic Mine," with its "Mystic Mine Lane, cars rotting away/ I feel so relieved to be/ Back in the country." So much of the pop music we love is propelled by those first blushes of infatuation and lust, but Manzanita concerns the kind of love that one can only experience with time, work, and devotion. Cleveland says: "The songs were all written while I was pregnant (side A) or shortly after my son's birth in that weird everything-has-quietly-but-monumentally-shifted state (side B)," she says. Moving to the country, starting a family, laughing for real at the same joke the thirteenth time you've heard it, surviving heavy shit (this is the first release since Cleveland's successful treatment for a diagnosis of breast cancer at the start of 2022). This is a love album that's somehow populated with the insect world, ghosts, and evil spirits. Sonically, Manzanita sits in a meadow similar to her previous solo records, set back and away from the genre-recombinant garage pop of her band La Luz. This is part due to the fact that there's a different sonic palette in use here. While Cleveland continues to play guitar and vocals; Johnny Goss, who has recorded all of Shana's solo material and early La Luz recordings, and Abbey Blackwell (Alvvays, La Luz) play the bass; Olie Eshleman is on pedal steel; and Will Sprott plays the keyboards, dulcimer, glockenspiel, and harpsichord-little of which would have been out of place on her previous two solo records-Sprott also adds layers of synthesizer infused with the sounds of the natural world.

Dead-eyed post-punk from Olympia's reigning noise-niks. Repetition rejects the major label signing spree of the mid-'90s entirely, training its hulking focus on haircut hardcore, white belt Jiujitsu, and frenzied feedback. The soundtrack to a fantasy Halloween candy heist, now on vinyl for the first time since 1996.

A pulsing cluster of wiry feedback, lurching bass, and single stroke rolls, Fake Train entangles the energies of frustrated backpack emo, faded Riot Grrrl back issues, and their own dash of teen spirit and unleashes it all in an earsplitting 10-song assault.

Lael Neale still has a flip phone and there were no screens involved in the creation of her new record Star Eaters Delight. The album is her second for Sub Pop and reveals an expansion of her sonic collaboration with producer and accompanist Guy Blakeslee. In April of 2020, in the wake of transformations both personal and global, Lael moved from Los Angeles back to her family's farm in rural Virginia. Looking at the world from a distance and getting in tune with her own rhythms, she wrote and recorded steadily for two dreamlike years, driven by a need to make order out of chaos. Forged in isolation, Star Eaters Delight is a vehicle for returning, not just to civilization, but to celebration. She says, "Acquainted with Night (recorded in 2019, and released in 2021), was focused inward, amidst the loud and bright Los Angeles surrounding me. It was an attempt to create spaciousness and quiet reverie within. When I moved back to the farm, I found that the unbroken silences compelled me to break them with sound. This album is more external. It is me reaching back out to the world, wanting to feel connected, to wake up, to come together again." Album opener and lead single "I Am The River" melts the ice with a dynamic explosion of minimalist transcendental pop clearly descended from the Velvet Underground's branch of modern music's family tree. Blakeslee's spare yet cinematic arrangements create an ambient space in which Neale's clear and unaffected voice can explore familiar themes in an unexpected way. Subtle but potent references to Shakespeare, Emerson and the Bible (which she hasn't read) swirl together with deeply personal musings and touches of wry humor, always more optimistic than cynical. While this is a record about polarities- country vs. city, humanity vs. technology, solitude vs. relationship - the deeper intention is to heal; to come to terms with our differences and put the broken pieces back together again. Lael's affinity with the Transcendentalists has to do with her quest to hold onto sovereignty over her own mind. In a time when our devices are constantly flooding us with information, opinions and propaganda, Lael is intentional about what she takes in - hence the flip phone and the cassette recorder. Neale identifies as a minimalist "not because I don't like things, but because I value freedom more."

Meeting at the halfway point between Bleach and Damaged, Unwound's 1995 self-titled album arrived years after the original trio of Vern Rumsey, Justin Trosper, and Brandt Sandeno made their Avast Studios debut. Compiling their EPs for Kill Rock Stars and Gravity Records with five more session outtakes, Unwound was released on Rumsey's Punk In My Vitamins as the band began flirting with the mainstream. Witness a band's prehistory as it plays out in a feral maelstrom of screaming, distortion, feedback, and abrasive promise.

Their third album in as many years, 1995's The Future of What is an unrelenting, constructivist masterstroke. The Olympia trio's signature sound_grinding bass, syncopated drums, and fragmented guitar over measured yelps_ratchets past the thread into a stripped-out metallic slurry. Equal parts noise and adrenaline, the album opens with a simple question: "Where's your energy?" It's been 25 years and we're still searching for the answer.

Unwound's paranoid and pulsating sixth album, Challenge For a Civilized Society explores the pre-Y2K technological dread of modern punk living. Producer Steve Fisk threads Justin Trosper's stabbing, discordant guitar in and around Sara Lund's consolidated drum attack and Vern Rumsey's relentless, throbbing bass. A vicious and sinister penultimate LP from the '90s most misunderstood band.

90 in November, the first full-length LP from Texas quintet Why Bonnie, crashes into existence with a squeal of feedback and a burst of distorted guitar. It's a dynamic introduction to a more raw-edged indie sound from a band who have matured from bedroom dream pop into a sophisticated rock act, their evolving sound a reflection of the journey undertaken by songwriter Blair Howerton on this vividly rendered collection of songs. The songs for 90 in November were mostly written in Brooklyn, New York, where Howerton moved from Austin in 2019. Already in the midst of a major life change, Howerton's feeling of being between worlds was compounded when quarantine hit and she found herself, like so many others, stuck in her apartment-about as far away from the wide-open spaces of Texas as one can possibly get. It was in this environment that she began to write songs parsing out the complicated, mixed emotions associated with building a new home while attempting to make sense of the one she had left behind.

Toilet Rats IV is the new release from Minneapolis, MN synth-punk act Toilet Rats. As the name suggests, it's a little grimey, energetic, tenacious, and oddly entertaining. Tommy Ratz (aka Thomas Rehbein) combines a variety of musical influences ranging from Jawbreaker, DEVO, Nine Inch Nails, Jawbox, Depeche Mode, Ennio Morricone, Lard, Run DMC, Ramones, Powerplant, and other random stuff with lyrics primarily inspired by vintage horror and sci-fi movies to create a succinct rock album that, though well produced, never takes itself too seriously. It's as if Ratz (aka Rehbein) took a time machine and made a mixtape from 1987 combining his favorite sounds and VHS rentals from that era. "Carol Kane" references fright flick When A Stranger Calls, "Walk The Earth" recalls zombies, shopping malls, and helicopters, "Larva" is a nod to Al Jourgenson's dancey thrash side projects, and "Oskar and Eli" recalls a coming of age vampire story.

Gap Girls is the synth-pop project of Los Angeles DIY scene mainstay Jacob Rubeck. As half of the electrifying indie rock duo Surf Curse, Rubeck is no stranger to a good hook, but when he trades jangly guitars for synths, an entire new world opens up. On his new album Forever Love, Forever After, that world is one of love, hope, and welcomeness. In contrast to the shadowy wistful sounds of Gap Girls' previous effort 'Street Desires,' 'Forever Love, Forever After' sounds like an uplifting triumph of love, in all its mysterious shapes and forms. With punchy drum machines, shimmering synths, and chest-rumbling bass, these songs are pure synth-pop bliss for letting love in.

A gorgeous and gripping portrait of Fenne's last two years, Big Picture was pieced together in an effort to self-soothe. Tracked live in co-producer Brad Cook's North Carolina studio, the album delineates the phases of love and becomes a map of comfort vs claustrophobia. Though its creation took place amid personal and global turmoil, the ruminative yet candid Big Picture is Fenne's most cohesive, resolute work to date, both lyrically and sonically. "This isn't a sad album _ it's about as uplifting as my way of doing things will allow," she says. "These songs explore worry and doubt and letting go, but those themes are framed brightly." With confidence and quiet strength, each track provides an insight into Fenne's ever-changing view of love and, ultimately, its redefinition _ love as a process, not something to be lost and found. While the album was written alone in Fenne's Bristol flat - a fact intentionally reflected in its compact sonic quality - Big Picture was transformed from a solitary venture into a unifying collaboration during the recording process when she was joined by her touring band, Melina Dutere of Jay Som (mixing), Christian Lee Hutson (guitar and co production), and Katy Kirby (vocals). Notably, these 10 songs are Fenne's first and only to have been written over the course of a relationship; 2018's On Hold and 2020's Breach both confront the pain of retrospection, saying goodbye to a love that's gone. Big Picture does the exact opposite _ rooted firmly in the present, it traces the narrative of two people trying their hardest not to implode, together. "This album is an observation of the way I think about love, the selfexamination that comes with closeness and the responsibilities involved in being a big part of someone else's small(er) world," summarizes Fenne. "It was written in a place of relative emotional stability - stability that felt unstable because of its newness, but also because of the global context. 2020 was the year of letting go, but we'd all already let go of so much and nothing felt like mine anymore. Writing always did, though, so that's what I chose to do."

Brooklyn-based musician and producer Barrie Lindsay,known simply as Barrie, has a passion for creating left-of-centerpop music. She spends her days writing songs and tinkeringin Logic, stockpiling her creations in a vast archive offolders and hard drives. When it came time to select thesongs for her sophomore LP, `Barbara,' she narrowed it downto sixteen tracks. As the record came together, it becameclear that there would be two separate projects - the firstbeing `Barbara,' an emotionally charged collection of songsdealing with the loss of a parent, the love of a new partner, andfinding one's own identity. The remaining five tracks, whichwere more light-hearted and o the cu, were compiled into anew project titled `5K.'As an avid runner, Barrie named the EP after the common footrace. The aptly titled lead single, "Races," is a delightfulsynth-pop track in a unique 12/8 time, built around a bombasticdrum kit and giddy key ris. "Nocturne Interlude" acts as asegue between `Barbara' and `5K,' showcasing a hauntingmelody amidst dark brass-like synths. Second half highlight"Ghost World" has a distorted guitar ri and classic drumpattern that evokes a forgotten 90's radio b-side. The songwas recorded entirely by Barrie herself, serving as her ownband on guitar, bass, keys, and drum kit. Even though mostpeople would finish listening to the project front to backbefore finishing a 5k run, the short, sweet, and melodically richEP begs to be replayed over and over. With `5K,' Barrie showcasesher versatility as an artist, closing the loop between thesounds found on her debut LP `Happy To Be Here' and herfollow-up `Barbara'.

Did you know that miracles happen every day? We don't always see it that way We look at the state of the world and think, "It'll be a miracle if we make it out alive." But miracles are what humans do. We're Earth's most inventive and unpredictable species, when we're allowed to be. Also the most destructive. Miracle-Level is Deerhoof's mystical manifesto on creativity and trust. It celebrates the infinite small wonders of existence that spontaneously present themselves, when not obstructed by our death-driven masters. Musically, Miracle-Level is vulnerable, brave, and brimming with spicy surprises. Deerhoof's 19th album is also their their first to be recorded and mixed in a recording studio. Production was entrusted to Mike Bridavsky, at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba. This is also their first album written entirely in Satomi's native language. Deerhoof once again speak in a secret code that only their fans understand, in which hooks abound, and genre is nonexistent.

77-Early Years-79 is a compilation of the band's first four singles, all originally issued on Step Forward Records, and was first released as an LP in 1981. One album track ("Dice Man" from Dragnet) is also included, and a CD reissue in 2000 adds two tracks from the various artists compilation Short Circuit: Live at the Electric Ballroom, from the same time. 2002's Early Singles drops "Dice Man" and adds three singles recorded for Kamera Records in 1981 and 1982, with their B-sides. In 2003, tracks from the Step Forward singles and two albums recorded for the label were selected for It's the New Thing! - The Step Forward Years. The first of multiple Fall compilation albums and certainly one of the most valuable.

Founded by its only constant member, Mark E. Smith, The Fall formed in Manchester in 1976 and were one of the most prominent post-punk groups in the world. Musically, there may have been several stylistic changes over the years, but it was often characterised by an abrasive guitar-driven sound and frequent use of repetition, always underpinned by Smith's distinctive vocals and often cryptic lyrics. “Dragnet” is the second studio album – released 26th October 1979. Originally released through record label Step-Forward, it predicated 2 major factors in the group’s career – high productivity and high group turnover. The album has historically garnered excellent reviews, including 4/5 in Mojo, 8.7/10 on Pitchfork and 4/5 in Q Magazine. Featuring the one and only Mark E. Smith alongside Steve Hanley (bass), Marc Riley (guitar), Craig Scanlon (guitar), Mike Leigh (drums), Kay Carroll (backing vocals) and Yvonne Pawlett (keyboards).

Live at the Witch Trials was the debut studio album by The Fall. It was released in March 1979, through record label Step-Forward. Despite it's title, it is not a live album. The album was recorded at Camden Sound Suite on 15 December 1978 and mixed by producer Bob Sargeant the next day. The group had been booked into the studio for a week but Mark E. Smith had fallen ill, leading to the cancellation of the first three days. Some songs dated from earlier incarnations of the group with both Tony Friel and Una Baines featuring on the writing credits.

Monument is a fitting title for the third album by Belarusian trio Molchat Doma. Indeed, it stands as a monument to everything they've achieved in their short time as a band, from whispered-about unknowns, to enigmatic underground icons, to legitimate viral sensations with hundreds of thousands of TikTok videos using their music. Monument sees them return as conquering heroes, expanding on the minimalist greatness of S Krysh Nashikh Domov and Etazhi to fully realize a more maximalist vision of their crystalline post-punk sound.Written and recorded while the band was quarantined in their hometown of Minsk during the COVID-19 pandemic, Monument is a conscious step up in songwriting and fidelity, and it reveals a band preternaturally comfortable in its own skin. Whether playing to the dancefloor, as they do on the synthpop anthem "Discoteque," or working more introspectively on pre-pandemic live favorites "Otveta Net" and "Ne Smeshno," Molchat Doma are in complete control. Their greatest strength has always been their songwriting, and they've only gotten better.As the band's arrangements have grown more sophisticated, so too have the sounds they use to bring them to life. Roman Komogortsev and Pavel Kozlov's gear arsenal has grown to include an extensive range of synthesizers and drum machines, all of which they deploy with precision. Egor Shkutko's vocals move fluidly between his familiar deadpan monotone and an expressive croon, his beautifully delivered Russian lyrics at turns bleak and romantic. Shkutko has often been compared to Ian Curtis, but here, he outgrows the comparison. With Monument, Molchat Doma have done one of the hardest things to do as a band. They've greatly expanded the scope of their music while retaining everything that made them great in the first place.

Since releasing Bury Me at Makeout Creek in November 2014, Mitsku has received international acclaim for her distinct, arresting sound and profoundly reflective lyrics.

Virginia Beach's Turnover has never been a band afraid of telling the truth. The emotional honesty poured out over a number of anthemic releases has been a proven formula of success for the band, but on their sophomore LP Peripheral Vision, the band treads into deeper water. Working again with Magnolia producer Will Yip (Title Fight, Circa Survive), Turnover's latest record shows a band maturing to create their best effort: an ethereal, reverb-drenched soundscape blending elements of hazy dream pop and the delicate emo rock of yesteryear. Songs like "Hello Euphoria" and "Like Slow Disappearing" highlight the new calmer, more subdued approach to songwriting, matched by Austin Getz's somber, confessional lyrics that echo throughout songs as if his words were haunting every measure. Peripheral Vision solidifies the idea that Turnover is a band with it's finger on the pulse of it's generation: growing and learning with every release, but never failing to provide a relatable, cathartic experience for anyone listening.

Tigers Jaw is the second full-length by American emo band Tigers Jaw. It was released 2008. Five young friends from Scranton, PA known as Tigers Jaw play their brand of upbeat yet melancholy indie-rock. The subtle yet massively clever lyrics combine with music that moves with such youthful exuberance even the most jaded listener will look back to their more careless days. The debut from Tigers Jaw may wear is influences on its sleeve, but instead of a repetitive list of sound-alike bands, themes such as death, friendship, and growing up are tackled from an endearing and hopeful perspective that is almost impossible not to relate to.

A return to 80's form, along with his original RCA band (1980-19840), Orrall's 10th album is a love letter to his favorite dive bar, Nahsville's 467 Surf And Gun Club.

'Very sophisticated and relentlessly appealing sunny SoCal folk pop a la Brian Wilson and Van Dyke Parks, the guys who invented it. Fully realized. Absolutely joyful.' - John Hiatt

'Melodic, colorful, emotional. A fun and bubbly trip through our dad's cosmic mind'. - Jeff The Brotherhood

'I've always been inspired by other recording artist's work. Robert Ellis Orrall is a composer who always says something we need to hear. In that way he remains relevant and timeless. His latest offering is no less.' - Michael McDonald

'If there's been a better record to come out of Nashville in the past few years let us know, cause we haven't heard it' - Diarrhea Planet

'reo has proved once again that he's one of the best songwriters in Nashville. This album encapsulates the warm nostalgia of summers spent with friends at 467.' - Daddy Issues

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard's Demos Vol.2 have been surfed out in an attempt to reconcile exquisite demo recording and vaporised lo-fi electronica. Music To Eat Bananas 2 is a venture in Oceanic Rock or Space Rock. We encourage you to peruse and support this online styling between a kilometres-underground ambient-glitch producer, and Melbourne's cultural icons of kaleidoscopic creation and willpower.

While kolezanka's previous album, "Place Is," was aboutlife on the road and the people you meet living out of asuitcase, the new album is all about being alone at home.The voices that you hear in your head when you rememberwhat it was like to hang out with friends; the drinks sharedand the stories remembered. Recorded at Pulp Arts (Pearl and the Oysters, Quintron and Miss Pussycat) and mixed/ mastered by Jonathan Schenke (Parquet Courts, The Drums, Snail Mail). FOR FANS OF: Broadcast, Stereolab, Cate Le Bon, Cocteau Twins..."This album deserves to make kole¿anka one of the most talkedabout names in new music today." - Secret Meeting //"Moore's vocals are spellbinding over a dream-pop concotion"- Stereogum

There are times in our life when we feel magic in the air. When new love arrives, or we find ourselves lost in a moment of creation with others who share our vision. A sense that: this is who I want to be. This is what I want to share. It's a fleeting feeling and one that Kyle Thomas, the singer-songwriter who records and performs as King Tuff, found himself longing for in the spring of 2020. But knowing he couldn't simply recreate this time in his life at will, Thomas-who hails from Brattleboro, Vermont-set out to write a love letter to those cherished moments of inspiration and to the small town that formed him. The one where he first nurtured his songwriting impulses, bouncing ideas off other like-minded artists. The kind of place where the changing of the seasons always delivered a sense of perspective and fresh artistic inspiration. Where he felt a deeper connection with nature and sense of community that had once been so close at hand. And so, Thomas seized upon his memories, creating what he calls "an album about love and nature and youth." The result is Smalltown Stardust, a spiritual, tender and ultimately joyous record that might come as a shock to those with only a passing knowledge of the artist's back catalog. On Smalltown Stardust, Thomas takes us on his journey to a place where past and present collide, where he can be a dreamer in love with all that he sees. References to his Brattleboro upbringing abound, but at the core of Smalltown Stardust is Thomas's desire to commune with nature on a spiritual level. Images of the natural world, from blizzards to green mountains to cloudy days, fill the songs. "I consider nature to be my religion," he explains, and Smalltown Stardust is nothing if not a spiritual exploration. While so much of Smalltown Stardust invokes idealized traces and places of Thomas's past, the album's recording process made his communal vision a reality. Thomas's Los Angeles home in 2020 formed a micro-scene of sorts, with housemates Meg Duffy (Hand Habits) and Sasami Ashworth recording their own heralded albums (2021's Fun House and 2022's Squeeze, respectively) at the same time A shared spirit dominated an era spent largely on the premises, with Thomas serving as engineer and contributor to both records, and Ashworth working as co-producer on Smalltown Stardust. Ashworth's contributions are vital to the album: she co-wrote a majority of the record and contributed vocals, arrangements, and instrumentation to each song. In the end, Smalltown Stardust is not merely a nostalgia trip. Thomas not only conjured a special time in his life, he found new inspiration, surrounded by collaborators and a sense of love and wonder for nature. If the first King Tuff record was content to merely state Thomas was no longer dead, Smalltown Stardust is a paean to what that life means.