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Charles Moothart is releasing his third album under the moniker CFM. It’s calledSoundtrack For An Empty Roomand keeps it cookin’ off 2016’sStill Life Of Citrus And Slimeand 2017’sDichotomy Desaturated.Moothart is a frequent contributor on many of Ty Segall’s solo ventures but also as a co-conspirator in bands like the blazing jam unit Fuzz, and a fantastic monster of a group called GØGGS, which throws Segall and Moothart in with Chris Shaw of Ex-Cult.
Something that’s immediately apparent onthis albumis that it’s a harder record than its predecessors. The shift isn’t subtle but it is tremendously cool. A lot of the materialwas written while Moothart was on tour with Segall and working on the GØGGSPre Strike Sweepalbum. The first two CFM efforts gave Moothart the experience to work effectively on his own in the studio, the live shows infusethiswith the confidence and attitude that comes from a lot of nights playing where there are no second takes.Itis an exciting follow up and further proof that Moothart is one of those people with a lot of music in him.

“If I may speak completely for myself. It’s musicians like Charles, Ty, Chris Shaw, John Dwyer, Tim Presley and Mikal Cronin who are not only revitalizing Independent Music, but have forced the idea of the monolithic album, endless tour and then a year before another release to be but an antiquated and megaboring option. It’s a blast trying to keep up with their output. Super exciting. Lastly, all three CFM albums are great butSoundtrack To An Empty Roomis the best one. It rips from start to finish.” —Henry Rollins

Opaque Red Vinyl.By early 2020, Kayleigh Goldsworthy had finally figured out who she was. The long-time hired-gun musician from Syracuse and based in south Philadelphia, who had spent a decade backing up the likes of Dave Hause, Bayside, Frank Iero, and others, was ready to commit fully to a solo career of her own work. The day after New Year's Day 2020, Goldsworthy started recording her second solo LP, seven years after her debut Burrower, with Will Yip at Studio 4 outside Philly.Then everything changed. The job and life Goldsworthy had pursued since her teen years was ripped away: tours, shows, studio time, even band practices and writing sessions, all gone. Along with those went away a hard-won sense of self. All those things that had given Goldsworthy the confidence and push to believe in herself and her work disappeared."I had figured out who I was," says Goldsworthy, "then this whole thing happened, and I had to figure out who I was again."These are the conditions that created Learning To Be Happy, a story of undoing and becoming that begins at what Goldsworthy thought was the end: that assuredness and strength of January 2020. This story unspools over a thrilling, winding saga of scrappy, arena-ready pop rock, charged pop punk, and acoustics-and-piano balladry. The LP's 10 tracks are often heavy and sometimes dark, but always relentlessly confident and hopeful, threaded through with the sort of bruised optimism that rewards all those who do the difficult work of wrestling with what it means to be happy.

After Releasing And Supporting Their Debut "Angst" With A String Of Live Shows, The Band Struggled To Keep A Steady Line Up And Ended Up Losing Two Of Its Members In The Process. The Band Was Hanging On By The Skin Of Their Teeth Until A New Core Member Could Be Inducted. The Last Couple Of Years Kollapse Has Been Mutating And Its Members Have Been Diving Headfirst Into A Process Of Reshaping The Artistic Core Of The Band. Just As The Band Was Solidifying As A Trio The Entire Country Went On Lock Down. Being Isolated In The Northern Part Of Denmark Added To The Pressure Cooker Effect Of Pent Up Frustration.Creating The New Album Was A Struggle.As A Trio The Band Is More Focused Than Ever, Both In Terms Of Subject Matter As Well As Sound. On "Sult" The Band Lets Their Heavy Noise Rock And 90'ies Influences Shine Through With A Sharp Almost "You Are There In The Room" Feel And Intensity. The Record Stands As A Testament To Willpower.The Album Itself Is About Hunger:The Absence Of Skin On Skin And The Catastrophic Consequences When That Hunger Turns Into Desperation. It Is About The Duality Of Searching For Purpose And Losing All In The Process. Staring Long And Hard Into The Void And Realizing The Futility Of Struggle. Sult Is A Statement On Desire, Grief And The Pure Human Necessity To Scream Back At An Empty Existence. It Is A Step Onto The Road Of Grim Realism Paved By Mavericks Such As Edward Munch, Carl Th. Dreyer And Stig Sæterbakken. Offering No Solutions Or Postmodern Irony, "Sult" Simply Reaches Out.

Over atmospheric instrumentation expanded by cinematic structure and pacing, Pearlty presents Knifeplay somewhere between dream-pop influenced shoegaze and lofty slowcore, never fully committing to one or the other in its insistence on creating an immersive, organic world.

Originally released in 2019, Knifeplay’s vivid debut Pearlty documents songwriter Tj Strohmer’s expressions of early adulthood in what he describes as “the journey from innocence to experience.”

Written during a time of immense inspiration, Strohmer was able to peel himself away from detached nihilism, uncovering the physicality and therapeutic powers of songwriting. Newly emboldened by this discovery and the talented community surrounding him, Strohmer channeled this revelation into his work, taking Knifeplay from a bedroom experiment that merely wrote songs to a more substantial project with a purpose.

Pearlty’s various climactic passages, like those heard on the impressionist album opener “Tears”, envelop listeners in textured walls of distorted guitar and noisy breakdowns, a distinct hallmark of shoegaze – but Knifeplay’s compositions go far beyond such conventions.

Also featured are downtempo compositions – such as the tribute track “Angel” – that call on a range of influences, from grunge to lofi pop, all the way back to slowcore. Layers of Strohmer’s falsetto lilt adorn the songs with another dimension of sentimentality, while rounding out the sonic vastness of the group’s emotionally enrapturing style, lending impressive depth to the band’s debut full-length.

Over atmospheric instrumentation expanded by cinematic structure and pacing, Pearlty presents Knifeplay somewhere between dream-pop influenced shoegaze and lofty slowcore, never fully committing to one or the other in its insistence on creating an immersive, organic world.

Originally released in 2019, Knifeplay’s vivid debut Pearlty documents songwriter Tj Strohmer’s expressions of early adulthood in what he describes as “the journey from innocence to experience.”

Written during a time of immense inspiration, Strohmer was able to peel himself away from detached nihilism, uncovering the physicality and therapeutic powers of songwriting. Newly emboldened by this discovery and the talented community surrounding him, Strohmer channeled this revelation into his work, taking Knifeplay from a bedroom experiment that merely wrote songs to a more substantial project with a purpose.

Pearlty’s various climactic passages, like those heard on the impressionist album opener “Tears”, envelop listeners in textured walls of distorted guitar and noisy breakdowns, a distinct hallmark of shoegaze – but Knifeplay’s compositions go far beyond such conventions.

Also featured are downtempo compositions – such as the tribute track “Angel” – that call on a range of influences, from grunge to lofi pop, all the way back to slowcore. Layers of Strohmer’s falsetto lilt adorn the songs with another dimension of sentimentality, while rounding out the sonic vastness of the group’s emotionally enrapturing style, lending impressive depth to the band’s debut full-length.

Power trio Dommengang deliver heavy psych rock on new album Wished Eye, out April 21st. The album delivers super tasty, dirty guitars, serpentine psychedelic grooves, and propulsive drumming with gleeful abandon. Guitarist Dan "Sig" Wilson switches from explosive to expansive on a knife"s edge, laying down wailing hooks before evaporating into bristling fuzz. Bassist Brian Markham and drummer Adam Bulgasem"s foundations play with time, galloping forward or stretching out into the cosmos. Wished Eye is an expression of the sheer joy of making music together. Delivered with greater confidence and exuberance than ever before, Wished Eye captures the force of a Dommengang show and their explorative nature - from euphoria to transcendence. Where previous Dommengang albums evoked a restlessness and a yearning for the open road, Wished Eye takes you on that journey with a seasoned band that has found the key to traveling without ever leaving home. Wished Eye is the studio album of a band that, live, ignites chaotic release and otherworldly meditation. To capture this energy and freedom in the studio, the trio tracked all the songs together to tape and let experimentation run wild. This journey of exploration was indeed linked to all members relocating to Portland, Oregon, finding a new home for their ideas to flourish. Markham explains: "We jammed several times a week for two years, at times with no real goal but to play music and make noise together. Lots of nights were followed by backyard hangs around the fire." Sig elaborates: "We went into rehearsal with no expectations other than to let every idea breathe and let it go as long as needed." Working without time constraints or limitations, they could dig deeper than ever into their shared experiences.

The New York City duo of Jasmine Golestaneh and Eddie Cooper aka Tempers specialize in a sleek strain of low-lit poetic synth-pop, the latest statement of which feels like the peak fruition of their elusive alchemy. With New Meaning, Tempers present an album about navigating the unknown, coping mechanisms and exploring the nature of choice. Its ten songs reflect on the creation of meaning as an access to freedom and purpose in times of transition and loss. Speculating on the transformative potential that exists alongside the grief of living in a world that is in an ongoing state of crisis. This is distinctly nocturnal music, elegantly introspective and quietly intense, born of "living in a society that is still a dream of itself." Tracks like "Unfamiliar," "Here Nor There," and "Song Behind A Wall" distill the Tempers template to icy pop perfection, drum machinery framed in shivering reverb, Golestaneh's voice both ethereal and towering, simultaneously within and above. On other cuts, Golestaneh and Cooper's production skews more evocatively greyscale, from new wave shadowplay ("Carried Away") to depressive disco ("In And Out Of Hand") to an elegy of hopeful resignation ("Secrets And Lies"). Cooper speaks of production ideas regarding "human architecture," breathing life into the precision of electronics, and of melodic intervals "on the exact edge between major and minor, severe and sweet." New Meaning is a document of forking paths and fleeting transcendence, the liberation of instability and impermanence, of embracing "a constant state of becoming." Ten anthems for a derailed age, fugitive and sympathetic, nightwalking through an "anguished city" towards a nameless future, poised for rebirth: transcendent state, as if having finally glimpsed beyond the pale: "When I have / when I have no name / my joy is blinding."

Anything Can’t Happen is the long-awaited debut album from Dorothea Paas, one of Canada’s most beloved singer-songwriters. For over a decade, Paas has played her unique, prismatic style of folk songcraft for audiences across North America, and lent her talents as a guitarist and vocalist to artists like Jennifer Castle, U.S. Girls and Badge Epoque Ensemble. The songs on this album have been through a near-infinite number of forms – Paas has played them solo and with a full band, electric and acoustic, at house shows and in sold-out venues. they manage to fit inside each context, like water taking the shape of its container. All of this makes Anything Can’t Happen feel far more mature and complex than a debut album. It’s a statement of purpose, a next step in a decade-long process of artistic growth and evolution, and a bridge between the DIY style of Paas’s previous cassette releases and a more refined studio sensibility. Recorded in studios in Hamilton and Toronto, and mixed by Max Turnbull of Badge Epoque and U.S. Girls and Steve Chahley, these songs bring a diverse range of musical influences into conversation: inflected with the layered reverberations of Grouper, shot through with the piercing harmonies of the Roches, electrified with the searing energy of Sonic Youth. You can hear Neil Young in the grittiness of the title track’s guitar; Joni Mitchell’s Hejira in the album’s lyrics, Fairport Convention in Paas’s voice. The influence of Stevie Wonder - one of Paas’s greatest musical role models - is present too, in the album’s conceptual foundations.

Frances Forever can spin anything into sunshine. As the project of Boston-area singer-songwriter Frances Garrett, its myriad moods can send listeners reeling into romance or off floating in existential space. Garrett balances their familiarity with extremes with an undeniable ear for melody and a gift for writing tracks that could live at home anywhere on the pop timeline. paranoia party, the project's first EP in the wake of TikTok explosion 'space girl,' rockets forward with the past half-century of radio magic in its back pocket. Atop this glitter-shocked display, Garrett spills their guts about fumbling their own power. Take one listen to 'space girl,' Frances' latest charmer of a single that's rocketing up indie charts and TikTok counts despite a disaster mission of a year. The track continues to grow, with 80mm+ streams globally, 57 Viral Spotify Charts, 265k average daily streams, and over 535 million video views and 500k videos created on Tik Tok. Frances Forever has been hotly tipped as one of the top artists to watch in 2021: featured in lists by Rolling Stone, Spin, Amazon Music, GQ UK, Uproxx, and recently named as one of Pigeons & Planes best new artists. paranoia party further seals their fate as a breakout act, showing off Frances Forever's mastery of vintage texture and 2021 attention spans in equal measure. From the doo-wop glaze of opener 'depression' to the horn-flecked indietronica of 'daytime,' paranoia party carves its identity from stopovers in darker, braver territory. Those enchanted by 'space girl' have plenty to root for, though, as the EP's title track serves as its boldest mission statement, stacking a story of college-party anxiety against a circus-tent waltz that glitches and stutters in line with Garrett's narrative confidence.

Romantic Images, Molly Burch's third album, marks a distinct evolution for Burch, both emotionally and sonically. Recorded in Denver with Tennis' Alaina Moore and Pat Riley producing, the collection celebrates the timeless delights of a well-crafted pop song, flirting with Blondie, Madonna, and even Mariah Carey as it forges a joyful soundtrack to liberation and self-discovery. Burch deliberately worked with more women collaborators than ever before on the album, and the results are transcendent, reveling in the passion and the power of the divine feminine. The collection prioritizes ecstasy and escape, and Burch's commitment to collective catharsis in her lifted, airy delivery manages to exude both thoughtful introspection and carefree abandon all at once. The shadow still lurks on the album, to be sure, but the light ultimately wins, and the result is an intoxicating collection all about coming into our truest selves. When it came to mixing and mastering the material, Burch put her faith in Gloria Kaba (Lauryn Hill, A Tribe Called Quest), Mikaelin "Blue" Bluespruce (Solange Knowles), and Heba Kadry (Bjork, Beach House) to truly understand where she was coming from with the music. Burch designed the record to mirror the emotional journey that went into creating it, sequencing the music to work its way from jittery indecision to poised certainty over the course of ten mesmerizing tracks. Exhilarating opener "Control" takes a leap of faith as it learns to make peace with letting go, while the infectious "Heart Of Gold" grapples with wanting what you can't have. By the time the silky "New Beginning" rolls around, Burch begins settling into a newfound sureness that dominates the collection's second half, with the addictive "Emotion" (a collaboration between Burch and her Captured Tracks labelmate Wild Nothing) celebrating a spectrum of emotions as fuel for creativity. "I've written quite a bit about anxiety and heartbreak in the past," Burch reflects, "but this record is more inspired by confidence and self-love. This is the most me I've ever sounded on an album."

Available on ltd edition Eco mix vinyl, with only 250 copies pressed. Includes download.

We’re delighted to bring you the latest full length from London psych heads The Confederate Dead.

‘As an artist, one of the most extraordinary gifts is the ability to convert life's experiences and emotions into music, transmuting pain into beauty, tragedy into art. With our latest album, 'Flamingo', we embarked on this creative journey. The inception of this project dates back to 2022, a year marked by a period of separation that was both challenging and transformative. 'Flamingo' is not just an album; it is a voyage through the labyrinth of heartache and healing. Each track resonates with the overarching theme of the album, yet each presents a unique interpretation of it. Every song echoes the same meaning, the same core narrative, but from a different emotional lens.’ Butchy Davy (The Confederate Dead)

‘“Flamingo by London’s psychedelic indie band The Confederate Dead flows by like a strange dream. Each song flows differently, shifting the dreamy images into another direction. Thoughts of The Black Angels, the Fuzz Club catalogue and genres from shoegaze to garage pop and back to good old psych rock fight a confusing fight for my attention. In the end it appears that this struggle will never truly be decided. The Confederate Dead is their own beast, and a great one at that.

Theirs is a sound that oozes confidence and grandeur, presented like a big name would. and there is no reason why The Confederate Dead would not dream big, they have the chops, the songs, the looks, the only thing standing in the way of moving up might be their dark brooding undertones and their refusal to do a cool thing twice.

Because the most powerful thing about Flamingo is its versatility. The album is like a box of assorted chocolates, the one you can’t get enough of because each song is delicious and sweet in its own way. So, indulge yourself, have a chocolate, or ten…before you know it the album is over, and you’ll press play again.

The Umbrellas are four renegade romantics crafting irresistible indie pop hymns. The band’s self-titled 2021 debut album became a breakout moment, winning critical praise and sparking an international tour. Follow-up LP ‘Fairweather Friend’ goes a step further – absorbing the sonic attack of their live shows, it balances this with studio finesse, allowing the San Francisco four-piece to become the band they’ve always aspired to be. It's a record overflowing with highlights. The candyfloss melodies of introductory track ‘Three Cheers!’ are matched to an impactful percussive punch; ‘Say What You Mean’ finds The Umbrellas working with total confidence, letting the song ride out to its chiming conclusion, four voices working in precision. ‘When You Find Out’ offers rotating notes of guitar punctuated by a vocal that pushes past angst to accept a world full of hope. A lean 10 track affair, it grasps towards beatific pop while fuelled by a sense of risk, and the precision that comes from long months on the road. The Umbrellas coalesced around a group of musicians who would frequent legendary San Francisco record emporium Amoeba Music. Singer and guitarist Matt Ferrera links with bassist Nick Oka, while Keith Frerichs is the powerhouse drummer. A chance encounter with Morgan Stanley singing karaoke at a Fourth of July party cemented the line-up around an avowed thirst for melody. “All of us love really earnest pop songs,” Nick points out. “I guess we got to a point in our lives where we wanted to be genuine.” Playing shows at San Francisco’s vital DIY redoubt Hit Gallery, The Umbrellas would share line-ups with local heroes such as April Magazine and Cindy. Recording their debut album across a two-day spell at Matt’s parents’ house, the results won a devoted cult following. Yet the experience of touring bonded them tightly and allowed the volume to tick up a little higher, and higher, and higher. “I think we got tired of people saying, oh you’re so much louder than I thought you’d be!” laughs Matt. “Our early recordings are sweet and earnest… and we wanted it to be louder.” Kicking off sessions in November 2022, the band used an ad hoc space Matt created in his basement, working across a four-month period. Sessions were a little more relaxed in terms of timescale than their debut, but The Umbrellas were incredibly focussed on the project. “We gave ourselves more space for this album,” says Keith. “We wanted time to sit on the songs, and really work on them.” Allowing their live dynamic to bleed out on tape, The Umbrellas are at once more physical and yet also more controlled on their new album. Take opening track ‘Three Cheers!’ – the peppy, sun-soaked rush masks a barbed lyric, courtesy of Nick Oka. “It’s a pseudo-political song about power struggles that occur in a job situation, or a friend group. It’s an observational song.” ‘Toe The Line’ has an unkempt, rollicking sense of energy, the playful relationship analogy of the lyric pushed to the speed of light by Keith’s ultra-fast punk drumming. ‘When You Find Out’ meanwhile epitomises their unified, egalitarian way of making music – with The Umbrellas, each voice counts. “It sounds different from any song we’ve ever written together,” says Morgan. “It shows how much we’ve grown. Trust helps us to build the songs. It’s definitely a team effort.” It's also a record of ambition. ‘Say What You Mean’ stretches past the four-minute mark, the viola performance informed by Estonian minimalist composer Arvo Pärt. ‘Gone’ was the first song attempted for the new album, and the last they actually finished, endless re-writes transforming it into a manifesto of control and release. Taken as a whole ‘Fairweather Friend’ is a bold indie pop triumph, crafted with purpose and attention. Taking their time over each note, the four-piece have strengthened their songwriting, adding depth and 2 assurance while unlocking their potential. Some bonds last a lifetime – The Umbrellas are ready to capture your heart.

Glow White/Black Dot Vinyl.The year 2020 sure wasn't the most ideal time to form a band, especially for a group of musicians who never played together before. But for New York rock quintet GIFT, this strangest of periods was the auspicious backdrop for a bold new sound - a dizzying blend of early shoegaze, classic `90s alternative rock and even modern pop.Indeed, that GIFT emerged somewhat fully formed on their 2022 debut album Momentary Presence was a testament to the creative possibilities laying deep within. Now, Illuminator, their Aug. 23 debut album for revered New York independent label Captured Tracks, is the long-awaited payoff of GIFT's ever-growing musical and human chemistry. And while nods are apparent to label forerunners such as Beach Fossils, DIIV and Wild Nothing, GIFT are shepherding those elements into wondrous new vessels for the present moment - sleek, often danceable and frequently mesmerizing.GIFT - vocalist/guitarist TJ Freda, multi-instrumentalists Jessica Gurewitz and Justin Hrabovsky, drummer Gabe Camarano and bassist Kallan Campbell - are firmly enmeshed in the New York scene as talent buyers, photographers, DJs, audio engineers, art directors and, in the case of Campbell, an owner of the beloved Brooklyn DIY venue Alphaville.GIFT introduced Illuminator with "Wish Me Away," their first new song in the 18 months since the debut. With its earworm guitar lines, propulsive rhythms, riveting vocals and mind-expanding aural flourishes, "Wish Me Away" is the perfect sonic springboard from Momentary Presence to where GIFT are going next. It's also a potent reminder that you can still preserve that twinkle in your eye even when you feel like everything's slipping away.On songs such as "Light Runner", "Going In Circles" and "Destination Illumination," Freda demonstrates a newfound confidence and versatility, embracing pop music as a vehicle. The relentless, often painful dance of love has never sounded as exhilarating as on "Going in Circles," while the strident tone poem "Water in...

The story begins with Kevin Morby absentmindedly flipping through a box of old family photos in the basement of his childhood home in Kansas City. Just hours before, at a family dinner, his father had collapsed in front of him and had to be rushed to the hospital. That night Morby still felt the shock and fear lodged in his bones. So he gazed at the images until one of the pictures jumped out at him: his father as a young man, proud and strong and filled with confidence, posing on a lawn with his shirt off. This was in January of 2020. As the months went on and the world dramatically changed around him, Morby felt an eerie similarity between his feelings of that night and the atmosphere of those spring days. Fear, anxiety, hope and resilience all churning together. The themes began twisting in his mind. History, trauma and the grand fight against time. Having the courage to dream, even while knowing the tragedy that often awaits those who dare to dream. While his father regained his strength, Morby meditated on these ideas. And then, he headed to Memphis. He moved into the Peabody Hotel and spent his days paying tribute and genuflecting to the dreamers he admired. In the evening, he would return to his room and document his ideas on a makeshift recording set-up, with just his guitar and a microphone. The songs, elegiac in nature, befitting all he had seen, poured out of him. Produced by Sam Cohen (who also worked on Morby's Singing Saw and Oh My God), This Is A Photograph features musical contributions from longtime staples of Morby's live band, as well as old friends and new collaborators alike. If Oh My God saw Morby getting celestial and in constant motion and Sundowner was a study in localized intent, This Is A Photograph finds Morby making an Americana paean, a visceral life and death, blood on the canvas outpouring. As Morby reminds us early on, time is undefeated. So what do we do while we're still here? This is a photograph of that sense of yearning.

Baby Blue & Halloween Orange Vinyl.In their decade-plus together, the four-piece_Julia Shapiro (guitar, vocals), Lydia Lund (guitar, vocals), Gretchen Grimm (drums, vocals), and Annie Truscott (bass, vocals)_have created a resonant body of work. Live Laugh Love is a natural continuation. Against the bizarre backdrop of the past few years, Chastity Belt remained a supportive space for the members to grow and experiment, drawing on the ingredients most essential to their process since the beginning: authenticity and levity. Recorded over three sessions in as many years (January 2020, November 2021 and 2022), the focus became more about enjoying their time together in the studio than making it feel like work. Their ease and familiarity with engineer Samur Khouja in LA, who also recorded their last album, made for a particularly enjoyable process. Once completed, they returned to renowned engineer Heba Kadry who mastered the album.Album opener "Hollow" sets the tone with a gently driving rhythm while guitar layers stream like sun rays through an open car window. A warmth radiates through Shapiro's voice, even while grappling with feeling lost and stuck. "The older I get," Shapiro says of the lyrics, "the more I realize that I might just always feel this way, and it's more about sitting with the feeling and accepting it, rather than trying to fight it." That wisdom seems to anchor Live Laugh Love. Chastity Belt has never shied from navigating the spectrum of difficult emotions, and an existential thread weaves throughout the subject matter. And yet the songs feel more grounded than ever; there's a sense of quiet confidence and self-assurance that comes with being less numb and more present. Facing discomfort takes more fortitude, after all.Live Laugh Love finds the members in their prime as musicians. Their parts trace intricate patterns over one another, but there's room to breathe between the layers. Everyone contributes to the writing, sometimes switching instruments, and for the first time, all four mem...

To address the weight of the world without speaking of weariness. To march thesong to breathlessness but loosen your grip when the band wanders. To tell allyour secrets but shield your loved ones from vulnerability. To dress up in thecharm and temptation of the pop song but maintain a core of peculiarity, of asingle voice trying to navigate this world. This is the project of the Spatulas.Think of the few songwriters who know they're the only ones in the world whocould write their songs. The ones who sing in the confidence that the songcouldn't exist without them: Peter Jefferies, Jenny Mae, Ron House, HeatherLewis. Jonathan Richman? Put Miranda Soileau-Pratt and the Spatulas on thislist.All eleven songs on `Beehive Mind' share a percussive, unshadowed presence,a steady, clear-voiced clop. Every note on the record is a little bit sad on its ownbut then they're organized in a way that you don't actually notice. Credit this tothe band's skill_Jon Grothman, Lila Jarzombek, Kyle Raquipiso and MirandaSoileau-Pratt all play with no limits and they all play with profound ease. Thesongs breathe in warmth and patience, they are immediate and sweet. And thenthey start to meander. The guitar skitters with the deliberate unpredictability of awild animal. Parts repeat and reset with the obsessiveness of an anxious mind.The lyrics open doors to unexpected scenes of lovers, family, and violence.This is all intentional: "I need to play music and listen to music as a form oftherapy," explains Soileau. This means safety, this means encouragement, thismeans trauma, this means hard questions. Only a band so comfortable at themargins, only a band so capable, only a band so trusting can achieve all this.Miranda Solileau-Pratt wrote the first Spatulas song in 2020, while living inOregon. Since that time, the band has released two cassettes and toured theUnited States. Members of the Spatulas have also played in The Blimp, HoneyBucket, Hot Gum, and Meerkaz. The band has shared stages...

You can't get Deeper if you're standing still. That's intentional, says the Chicago quartet's Nic Gohl. "Does it feel good when you're listening to this song? Does your body want to move with it?" These are the questions he asked himself as he and bandmates Shiraz Bhatti, Drew McBride, and Kevin Fairbairn were writing and recording Careful!, their third record and Sub Pop debut. "I wanted these to be interesting songs, but in a way where a two-year-old would vibe out to it," Gohl adds. "It's pop music, basically." That "basically" qualifier is working pretty hard, as fans of 2020's Auto-Pain might suppose. On Careful!, they're not reimagining their sound so much as testing its limits. If you want to, you can hear echoes of David Bowie's Low in the snapping rhythm and gray-sky synths of "Tele," but you can also hear a bit of Auto-Pain in the nailed-in, stippling lines being spit out by Bhatti's drum programming and McBride's synthesizer. "Fame" seems to stumble together and nearly fall apart, the dialed-up noise making the beat feel maniacal and a little invincible, the whole thing a series of short, snipped, autonomous gestures that are by now Deeper's trademark. "Build a Bridge" pushes in the opposite direction, using a prickly guitar line to launch into big, smeary art-pop, its emotional palette clear, well-defined, and easy to latch onto. On "Sub," Gohl sings above and below the melody like Ian McCulloch, bellowing and wondering and ruminating and rounding into swaggering confidence that the band rises to meet. It's festival headliner music that still feels like it was written in a garage. That fraternal interdependence is near the center of Deeper's music. The musical and lyrical devotion to mutuality makes this restlessly curious, stylistically broad album feels like the most coherent portrait of who Deeper is. Or, as McBride ultimately frames it, "Careful! is about looking out for one another."

You can't get Deeper if you're standing still. That's intentional, says the Chicago quartet's Nic Gohl. "Does it feel good when you're listening to this song? Does your body want to move with it?" These are the questions he asked himself as he and bandmates Shiraz Bhatti, Drew McBride, and Kevin Fairbairn were writing and recording Careful!, their third record and Sub Pop debut. "I wanted these to be interesting songs, but in a way where a two-year-old would vibe out to it," Gohl adds. "It's pop music, basically." That "basically" qualifier is working pretty hard, as fans of 2020's Auto-Pain might suppose. On Careful!, they're not reimagining their sound so much as testing its limits. If you want to, you can hear echoes of David Bowie's Low in the snapping rhythm and gray-sky synths of "Tele," but you can also hear a bit of Auto-Pain in the nailed-in, stippling lines being spit out by Bhatti's drum programming and McBride's synthesizer. "Fame" seems to stumble together and nearly fall apart, the dialed-up noise making the beat feel maniacal and a little invincible, the whole thing a series of short, snipped, autonomous gestures that are by now Deeper's trademark. "Build a Bridge" pushes in the opposite direction, using a prickly guitar line to launch into big, smeary art-pop, its emotional palette clear, well-defined, and easy to latch onto. On "Sub," Gohl sings above and below the melody like Ian McCulloch, bellowing and wondering and ruminating and rounding into swaggering confidence that the band rises to meet. It's festival headliner music that still feels like it was written in a garage. That fraternal interdependence is near the center of Deeper's music. The musical and lyrical devotion to mutuality makes this restlessly curious, stylistically broad album feels like the most coherent portrait of who Deeper is. Or, as McBride ultimately frames it, "Careful! is about looking out for one another."

Melody As Truth founder Jonny Nash returns to action with his first solo album in four years.

Over the course of eleven mesmerising tracks, Nash points the compass gently inwards, casting aside any conceptual frameworks in favour of exploring an imaginative and idealised “personal folk music” that combines elements of traditional acoustic music with the producer’s richly immersive interpretation of ambient, a sound he has been developing for well over a decade.

From the smudged acid-folk bliss of ‘Theories’ and ‘Eternal Life’, to the layered acoustic guitars of ‘All I Ever Needed’ and the delay-soaked, Durutti Column-esque ‘Light From Three Sides’, a wide variety of musical textures weave their way throughout the album.

Point of Entry is much more than a mere ‘guitar album’ – it draws on a rich and diverse palette to achieve its purpose. The delicate saxophone work of ambient-jazz contemporary Joseph Shabason swells on ‘Ditto’ and ‘Light From Three Sides’. Cascading piano lines ripple through the crystal clear sonic waters of ‘Face of Another’, whilst echoes of Nash’s work with Gigi Masin and Young Marco as Gaussian Curve appear in the dancing synth sequences of ‘Ditto’ and ‘Golden Hour’. Nash’s reverb-laden voice also appears for the first time since 2016’s critically acclaimed Exit Strategies, used delicately throughout the album to conjure up a world of dusk and golden light.

Combining the delicate human touch and naivety of earlier Melody As Truth releases with widened scope and vision, Point Of Entry is arguably Nash’s most complete work to date – an album that’s as much a statement of his “personal folk” vision as a future ambient classic.

Jess and the Ancient Ones released a three-song EP titled Astral Sabbat on 22 February 2012, recorded with the Swedish sonic wizard Tore Stjerna of Necromorbus Studio in their hometown Kuopio. Astral Sabbat pushed forward the boundaries of the sound established on their first full-length and forging their own path, as personified by the rather unusual choice of cover song Long and Lonesome Road, originally written and recorded by the Dutch rock outfit Shocking Blue, known for their mega-hit Venus.

“We wanted to give these works a space entirely their own, so that listeners can focus on them completely. For this purpose, we considered an EP the perfect means. Regarding the surprising choice of cover, I had heard the song at a very young age. And now, after travelling many roads, it returned to me. It is a timeless song and I hope someone discovers Shocking Blue through us”, revealed guitarist Thomas Corpse more than 10 years ago.

Astral Sabbat proved that Jess and The Ancient Ones were already back then way beyond all those occult, prog or retro-rock tags and playing a game of their own. Svart Records will release limited 12” colored edition of Jess and The Ancient Ones mini-LP Astral Sabbath on 25 October 2024. Svart Records’ webstore also has a limited edition of 150 copies package of green/red/purple marble vinyl version of the self-titled debut album, limited edition of Astral Sabbath mini album with a special slip mat Svart Records’ webstore has a limited edition of 150 copies package of green/red/purple marble vinyl version of the self-titled debut album, limited edition of Astral Sabbath mini album with a special slip mat – all of these are packaged in a unique Jess & The Ancient Ones totebag.

Jess and the Ancient Ones released a three-song EP titled Astral Sabbat on 22 February 2012, recorded with the Swedish sonic wizard Tore Stjerna of Necromorbus Studio in their hometown Kuopio. Astral Sabbat pushed forward the boundaries of the sound established on their first full-length and forging their own path, as personified by the rather unusual choice of cover song Long and Lonesome Road, originally written and recorded by the Dutch rock outfit Shocking Blue, known for their mega-hit Venus.

“We wanted to give these works a space entirely their own, so that listeners can focus on them completely. For this purpose, we considered an EP the perfect means. Regarding the surprising choice of cover, I had heard the song at a very young age. And now, after travelling many roads, it returned to me. It is a timeless song and I hope someone discovers Shocking Blue through us”, revealed guitarist Thomas Corpse more than 10 years ago.

Astral Sabbat proved that Jess and The Ancient Ones were already back then way beyond all those occult, prog or retro-rock tags and playing a game of their own. Svart Records will release limited 12” colored edition of Jess and The Ancient Ones mini-LP Astral Sabbath on 25 October 2024. Svart Records’ webstore also has a limited edition of 150 copies package of green/red/purple marble vinyl version of the self-titled debut album, limited edition of Astral Sabbath mini album with a special slip mat Svart Records’ webstore has a limited edition of 150 copies package of green/red/purple marble vinyl version of the self-titled debut album, limited edition of Astral Sabbath mini album with a special slip mat – all of these are packaged in a unique Jess & The Ancient Ones totebag.

Riyl: Orange Juice, Sarah Records, early Creation, Mary Chain, C86, Lush. Tlv168lpxx repress edition of 300 copies on pink vinyl. The first run sold out very quickly so a small repress has been ordered. The Umbrellas are four renegade romantics crafting irresistible indie pop hymns. The band’s self-titled 2021 debut album became a breakout moment, winning critical praise and sparking an international tour. Follow-up LP ‘Fairweather Friend’ goes a step further – absorbing the sonic attack of their live shows, it balances this with studio finesse, allowing the San Francisco four-piece to become the band they’ve always aspired to be. It's a record overflowing with highlights. The candyfloss melodies of introductory track ‘Three Cheers!’ are matched to an impactful percussive punch; ‘Say What You Mean’ finds The Umbrellas working with total confidence, letting the song ride out to its chiming conclusion, four voices working in precision. ‘When You Find Out’ offers rotating notes of guitar punctuated by a vocal that pushes past angst to accept a world full of hope. A lean 10 track affair, it grasps towards beatific pop while fuelled by a sense of risk, and the precision that comes from long months on the road. The Umbrellas coalesced around a group of musicians who would frequent legendary San Francisco record emporium Amoeba Music. Singer and guitarist Matt Ferrera links with bassist Nick Oka, while Keith Frerichs is the powerhouse drummer. A chance encounter with Morgan Stanley singing karaoke at a Fourth of July party cemented the line-up around an avowed thirst for melody. “All of us love really earnest pop songs,” Nick points out. “I guess we got to a point in our lives where we wanted to be genuine.” Playing shows at San Francisco’s vital DIY redoubt Hit Gallery, The Umbrellas would share line-ups with local heroes such as April Magazine and Cindy. Recording their debut album across a two-day spell at Matt’s parents’ house, the results won a devoted cult following. Yet the experience of touring bonded them tightly and allowed the volume to tick up a little higher, and higher, and higher. “I think we got tired of people saying, oh you’re so much louder than I thought you’d be!” laughs Matt. “Our early recordings are sweet and earnest… and we wanted it to be louder.” Kicking off sessions in November 2022, the band used an ad hoc space Matt created in his basement, working across a four-month period. Sessions were a little more relaxed in terms of timescale than their debut, but The Umbrellas were incredibly focussed on the project. “We gave ourselves more space for this album,” says Keith. “We wanted time to sit on the songs, and really work on them.” Allowing their live dynamic to bleed out on tape, The Umbrellas are at once more physical and yet also more controlled on their new album. Take opening track ‘Three Cheers!’ – the peppy, sun-soaked rush masks a barbed lyric, courtesy of Nick Oka. “It’s a pseudo-political song about power struggles that occur in a job situation, or a friend group. It’s an observational song.” ‘Toe The Line’ has an unkempt, rollicking sense of energy, the playful relationship analogy of the lyric pushed to the speed of light by Keith’s ultra-fast punk drumming. ‘When You Find Out’ meanwhile epitomises their unified, egalitarian way of making music – with The Umbrellas, each voice counts. “It sounds different from any song we’ve ever written together,” says Morgan. “It shows how much we’ve grown. Trust helps us to build the songs. It’s definitely a team effort.” It's also a record of ambition. ‘Say What You Mean’ stretches past the four-minute mark, the viola performance informed by Estonian minimalist composer Arvo Pärt. ‘Gone’ was the first song attempted for the new album, and the last they actually finished, endless re-writes transforming it into a manifesto of control and release. Taken as a whole ‘Fairweather Friend’ is a bold indie pop triumph, crafted with purpose and attention. Taking their time over each note, the four-piece have strengthened their songwriting, adding depth and assurance while unlocking their potential. Some bonds last a lifetime – The Umbrellas are ready to capture your heart.

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."

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."

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."

A great pop record is like a great friend: an intimate confidante, a shoulder to cry on, and a partner in crime when you're ready to get dolled up and dance the pain away under the disco ball (or in front of your bedroom mirror.) That's what you'll find on MARCI, the solo debut from Marta Cikojevic of Montreal soft-rock group TOPS, who steps out on her own in self-assured style with a guileless collection of synth pop songs that brim with unabashed sincerity. The confidence of this debut belies the fact that Cikojevic has never formally written songs before, though she's been a student of melody since her childhood in rural Ontario, when she would sing along to the radio pop divas du jour, perform in the church choir, and participate in piano recitals. The middle child of five sisters, Cikojevic describes herself as a shy singer at home, who would instead seek out secret spots_the forest behind her home or a broken down van on their property were favorites_to practice her singing and record the songs she would make up herself into a handheld recorder. She was encouraged to do so by her grandfather, a refugee from the former Yugoslavia, who would sing and record both original songs and traditional Croatian folk songs on a cassette dictation machine_she still has some of the tapes they made together. Eventually she would make her way to Toronto where she played in several groups before joining TOPS as a keyboardist in 2017 and moving to Montreal. When she decided to make a solo record, it was a given that she'd work with her TOPS bandmate David Carriere, describing him as "a great pop writer" who shared her vision for what she wanted to achieve with her music.Carrierre and Cikojevic approached MARCI with the idea that they wanted to craft hits_songs that were catchy and danceable while still being emotionally honest and down-to-earth. The record was put together over the course of a year in a Montreal apartment reminiscent of a 1993 pawnshop, full of synthesizers and obscure instruments dating back to the...

Most of the writing of Naima Bock's second album, Below A Massive Dark Land, was a solitary affair. It may not sound like it - it's made up of strong, purposeful arrangements with a huge host of musicians, filled with cradling space and warm light. This will also come as a surprise to anyone who has seen Naima perform in the time since the release of her 2022 debut Giant Palm, which was undoubtedly a communal experience. But there's power in the solitary, too. Giant Palm was arranged with collaborator Joel Burton, but going this one alone in search of something that was truly hers, Naima found she was capable of more. "After me and Joel stopped working together", she remembers, "it was an impossibility to even fathom doing arrangements myself but then I started learning violin and it was possible". Finding that she could go it alone was incredibly powerful for Naima: "I think I needed it, to be able to feel proud of something". Beyond the writing process, however, the record is not a stark, stripped back affair. Below_ still has the majesty that made Giant Palm so remarkable. Having tugged the first record down from the skies and spreading it across the earth, Naima finds a newfound vocal power and confidence born from hundreds of hours on stage, and the music sounds fuller, more tangible, and no less enveloping. This can be heard on the album's lead singles: "Kaley" feels fresh and surprising in its rug-pull choppiness but is distinctly Naima in its swinging, jubilant choruses. The accompanying "Further Away" takes a different tack, drawing you in with its simplicity. Finally, the hazy, luxurious beauty of "Feed My Release" draws on the sepia-toned traditions of The Roches, John Prine and Loudon Wainwright III and imbues them with the kind of stark confessional songwriting of Mount Eerie. These are ambitious, rich arrangements that reach deeper and darker lyrically than Giant Palm. Below a Massive Dark Land was predominantly produced by Jack Osborne (Bingo Fury) and Joe Jones, and recorded at The Crypt in north London, with additional production and arrangement by Oliver Hamilton (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective) and Naima herself. Six of the tracks on Below_ were mixed by Jason Agel, with the remainder done by Osborne and Jones. The album was mastered by Kevin Tuffy.

When Porridge Radio's Dana Margolin, one of the most vital new voices in rock, began to consider the themes of her new album, three vivid words began to emerge: joy, fear and endlessness. The artwork of the band's third full-length, Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky, is a surreal image that evokes the ducks and dives, slippery slopes and existential angst of life in recent times. "To me, the feelings of joy, fear and endlesses coexist together," says Dana. "You're never just happy or unhappy." Following Every Bad's release in 2020, Margolin was quickly becoming regarded as one of the most magnetic band leaders around. But if Every Bad established Dana's bravery in laying herself bare, her band's third record takes that to anthemic new heights. While there are moments of guttural release, she also finds soft power on songs. "I used to think I had to be loud to be heard," she admits, "but now I'm definitely less afraid of being gentle." The band's first new single, `Back To The Radio', sets out their stall, a lurching call to arms that contrasts Dana's lyrics of panic and closing herself off. This song is just one of example in Wdbltts that explores something that has long been an important part of Porridge Radio's process: playfulness. "I think the album needed to have that balance," Dana explains. Balance: that's the word the album seems to be eternally striving for - joy, fear and endlessness in harmony but also self-acceptance. Dana is more aware of how she's creating a persona as her star continues to rise, and how she's singing personal songs that now belong to other people which gives her purpose. She says, "I wrote these songs for myself, but I think everyone wants to feel like what they're doing is useful in some way. I'm ready to embrace it all now, whatever happens."

Philophobia, Arab Strap’s sophomore slam dunk released in the spring of 1998, begins with one of the most memorable opening lines in all of indie rock: “It was the biggest cock you’d ever seen, but you’ve no idea where that cock has been.” So begins an album that, while picking up thematically where the duo’s debut album The Week Never Starts Round Here left off, promises from its very first seconds a renewed sense of purpose: the narratives are more streamlined, the music more confident and mature. Gone are the sketches and doodles that unquestionably distinguished 1996’s The Week Never Starts Round Here as the work of first timers, replaced with a consistent, almost conceptual, musical framework. On Philophobia, singer and lyricist Aidan Moffat’s realism is more profane, gritty and poignant, while multi-instrumentalist Malcolm Middleton’s honeyed orchestrations increasingly provide clinics in subtlety and restraint.
Part of the appeal of Arab Strap’s post-everything music is the way the group’s songs make every listener feel like either a voyeur or a trusted confidante. The ever-present humanity in future sex advice columnist Moffat’s first person tales of debauchery and regret is a through-line running through each of these frank and vivid songs: the same narrator who confesses to sniffing his fingers after a sexual encounter and boasts about the size of his penis also yearns to “hug” a lover to death, finds himself crying on the bus, and wonders idly—but hopefully—whether or not he’s truly in love with the woman he’s just slept with. It is this duality, complemented by Middleton’s imaginative and deeply sensitive accompaniment, that makes Philophobia one of the most original and most enduring front-to-back albums in the canon of modern indie rock; over two decades later, it still sounds warm to the touch.

On Everything Harmony, the fourth full-length studio release from New York's The Lemon Twigs, the prodigiously talented brothers Brian and Michael D'Addario offer 13 original servings of beauty that showcase an emotional depth and musical sophistication far beyond their years as a band, let alone as young men. Everything Harmony successfully blends the brothers' distinct personalities while giving voice to their eclectic influences. Opening the album with the unassuming acoustic folk of plaintive "When Winter Comes Around," which echoes the sophisticated grandeur of classic Simon & Garfunkel recordings, they immediately switch things up to the sunny classic pop motif of "In MyHead." "Corner of My Eye" channels an Art Garfunkel-like vocal melody over a moody, vibraphone-tinged backing track suggesting the chamber pop of Brian Wilson. While they had no grand concept for Everything Harmony, both the D'Addarios felt a "palpable mood of defeat" prevailed while writing and recording it. "New To Me" was inspired by their shared experience with loved ones suffering from Alzheimer's, "What You Were Doing" is dressed in the tortured jangle of vintage Big Star, while "Born To Be Lonely," written after watching John Cassavetes' Opening Night, deals with what Brian calls "the fragility that often comes with age." Everything Harmony is a unified song cycle born of shared blood andcommon purpose. With two musical heads being better than one, there's no shortage of ideas to draw on. Their only impediments are time and the challenge of keeping up with their own prolific musical inspiration. "We share an intuition and tend to be influenced by one another," says Brian, "so the lyrical ideas on this record tend to complement each other. Writing has never been the issue for us. It's completing, editing and compiling that takes the time. We're trapped in a web of songs!"

When Porridge Radio's Dana Margolin, one of the most vital new voices in rock, began to consider the themes of her new album, three vivid words began to emerge: joy, fear and endlessness. The artwork of the band's third full-length, Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky, is a surreal image that evokes the ducks and dives, slippery slopes and existential angst of life in recent times. "To me, the feelings of joy, fear and endlesses coexist together," says Dana. "You're never just happy or unhappy." Following Every Bad's release in 2020, Margolin was quickly becoming regarded as one of the most magnetic band leaders around. But if Every Bad established Dana's bravery in laying herself bare, her band's third record takes that to anthemic new heights. While there are moments of guttural release, she also finds soft power on songs. "I used to think I had to be loud to be heard," she admits, "but now I'm definitely less afraid of being gentle." The band's first new single, `Back To The Radio', sets out their stall, a lurching call to arms that contrasts Dana's lyrics of panic and closing herself off. This song is just one of example in Wdbltts that explores something that has long been an important part of Porridge Radio's process: playfulness. "I think the album needed to have that balance," Dana explains. Balance: that's the word the album seems to be eternally striving for - joy, fear and endlessness in harmony but also self-acceptance. Dana is more aware of how she's creating a persona as her star continues to rise, and how she's singing personal songs that now belong to other people which gives her purpose. She says, "I wrote these songs for myself, but I think everyone wants to feel like what they're doing is useful in some way. I'm ready to embrace it all now, whatever happens."

When Porridge Radio's Dana Margolin, one of the most vital new voices in rock, began to consider the themes of her new album, three vivid words began to emerge: joy, fear and endlessness. The artwork of the band's third full-length, Waterslide, Diving Board, Ladder To The Sky, is a surreal image that evokes the ducks and dives, slippery slopes and existential angst of life in recent times. "To me, the feelings of joy, fear and endlesses coexist together," says Dana. "You're never just happy or unhappy." Following Every Bad's release in 2020, Margolin was quickly becoming regarded as one of the most magnetic band leaders around. But if Every Bad established Dana's bravery in laying herself bare, her band's third record takes that to anthemic new heights. While there are moments of guttural release, she also finds soft power on songs. "I used to think I had to be loud to be heard," she admits, "but now I'm definitely less afraid of being gentle." The band's first new single, `Back To The Radio', sets out their stall, a lurching call to arms that contrasts Dana's lyrics of panic and closing herself off. This song is just one of example in Wdbltts that explores something that has long been an important part of Porridge Radio's process: playfulness. "I think the album needed to have that balance," Dana explains. Balance: that's the word the album seems to be eternally striving for - joy, fear and endlessness in harmony but also self-acceptance. Dana is more aware of how she's creating a persona as her star continues to rise, and how she's singing personal songs that now belong to other people which gives her purpose. She says, "I wrote these songs for myself, but I think everyone wants to feel like what they're doing is useful in some way. I'm ready to embrace it all now, whatever happens."

Due to that fuckin’ virus and the lockdown going with it, Hummus Records and Coilguns founder Jona Nido suddenly had some free time to kill. He also happens to be the guitar player in Closet Disco Queen. The band had not played or given any sort of news for almost two years. No one really knows if they are on a long hiatus or if the band actually broke up. To summarize this release in one sentence : Sorting out shit on hard drives during the lockdown can make people (especially those running a record label) want to release records that no one asked for. This live album features songs from two different shows. The first one was recorded in Krasnodar, Russia in 2016 during the band’s second Russian tour named “Draining Russia’s Vodka Reserve Tour 2016”. It was engineered, recorded and mixed by Evgeny Poluyantsev, friend of the band and back then also the official sound guy at this venue called Sgt. Peppers. There was no purpose to this live recording other than the sound guy being nice enough to offer and set it up. This is probably why Luc (drums) and Jona (guitar) had to add “Vodka Version” next to some songs. I mean, coffee and fruit juices weren’t exactly the official drink back (and on) stage… The second show was recorded at L’Aéronef in Lille, France, during the band’s last tour in June 2017. Closet Disco Queen was supporting Red Fang on a few shows. After the Lille show, the band’s sound guy – super hero Chris Edrich – gave them a USB stick and said : “Here’s a stereo recording of tonight’s mix.”. And that was it. “Drink the Minibar” was the name of the band’s 2017 tour of Poland. Credit goes to polish promoter and longtime friend “Boro” (he also plays in this awesome band called Lonker See)

In a world where being loud seems to be the only ticket for attention, Arve Henriksen has somewhat quietly and without much ado established himself as an important, major player on the European jazz scene. In his 20 years with Rune Grammofon we're counting 11 solo albums (including one for ECM) and 12 albums with Supersilent (including two for Smalltown Supersound), in addition to four albums with Food as well as numerous collaborations, far too many to mention here. During these years he has also performed quite extensively in Europe, in later years being more picky, often preferring more unique venues and locations. Consisting of unreleased material from around ten years back and up until 2019, "The Timeless Nowhere" is not a compilation in the traditional sense, but can still be seen as a career overview including many facets of his work, at the same time portraying an artist on an unstoppable quest for discovery through exploration. Indeed, these are also four individual albums that could easily have justified separate releases, but at this stage in Arve's artistic journey it also made perfect sense to assemble them as a box set. The common denominator is about inspiration drawn from composers, collaborators, new discoveries and more specifically; spontaneous interaction with other musicians without other purposes than the music itself. No talk, no demands, no intentions, no explaining; just music in a timeless nowhere. "Captured Under Mountainsides" points to the wild landscape scenery of the area where Arve grew up in the western part of Norway; overwhelming and often strikingly beautiful, but also isolated and with a sense of melancholy. "Acousmograph" is Arve on his own, inspired by compositions and musicians, more experimental in nature and partly based on sketch recordings in odd locations. "Cryosphere" is a co-production with long time collaborator Jan Bang re-modelling material from a series of evolving concert performances. "Towards Language - Live at Punkt" could be seen as a departure from Arve'...

Since his first offerings began making the Internet rounds in 2009, Toro y Moi has proven himself to be not just a prolific musician, but a diverse one as well, letting each successive release broaden the scope of his oeuvre. Amassing nearly 150,000 copies sold, Toro y Moi’s third full-length album, Anything in Return, sees Chaz Bear blending funk, psych-pop and colorful, glitchy electronic sampling, locking in his unique sound that would push him to the forefront of alternative and chillwave music in the 2010s. To celebrate its 10-year anniversary, Anything in Return will be released for the first time on picture disc.

But the product of a move he made almost a decade ago, from South Carolina to Berkeley, CA and the subsequent extended separation from loved ones, is what put Anything in Return right in the middle of the producer/songwriter dichotomy that his first two albums established. There’s a pervasive sense of peace with Bundick’s tendency to dabble in both sides of the modern music-making spectrum, and he sounds comfortable engaging in intuitive pop production and putting forth the impression of unmediated id. The producer’s hand is prominent — not least in the sampled “yeah”s and “uh”s that give the album a hip-hop-indebted confidence — and many of the songs feature the 4/4 beats and deftly employed effects usually associated with house music. Tracks like “High Living” and “Day One” show a considerably Californian influence, their languid funk redolent of a West Coast temperament, and elsewhere — not least on lead single, “So Many Details” — the record plays with darker atmospheres than we’re used to hearing from Toro y Moi. Sounding quite assured in what some may call this songwriter’s return to producerhood, Anything in Return is Bear uninhibited by issues of genre, an album that feels like the artist’s essence.

Since his earlier releases, Toro y Moi has continued to make big waves across the music landscape — headlining international tours in the US, Europe, and Asia, producing tracks for major artists like SZA, performing on national television shows like Jimmy Kimmel Live and The Ellen Show, joining festival lineups like Coachella and Fuji Rock, and much more.

Occupying the corners between fuzzed-out shoegaze bliss, troubadour poetry, and metallic catharsis, DIIV -- Zachary Cole Smith [lead vocals, guitar], Andrew Bailey [guitar], Colin Caulfield [vocals, bass], and Ben Newman [drums] __ personally inhabit the recesses of their third full-length album, Deceiver. A whirlwind brought DIIV here. On the heels of 2012's Oshin, the group delivered the critical and fan favorite Is the Is Are in 2016. Praise came from The Guardian, Spin, Rolling Stone and more. Pitchfork's audience voted Is the Is Are one of the Top 50 Albums of 2016, as the outlet dubbed it "gorgeous." Simultaneously, frontman Zachary Cole Smith faced down seemingly dormant demons, and the momentum stalled. Two years after embarking on a program of recovery, Smith has emerged with a clear head and renewed focus. For the first time, DIIV lived with songs on the road. During a 2018 tour with Deafheaven, they performed eight new compositions as the bulk of the set. The tunes progressed as the players did. By the time DIIV entered 64 Sound to record with producer Sonny Diperri, the band felt a certain confidence. It's evident on first single "Skin Game," which gallops forth on a clean guitar riff before unfolding into a hypnotic hook offset by an off-kilter rhythm and hummable solo. "Being a recovering addict myself," he says, "there are a lot of questions like, `Who are we? What is this disease?' `Skin Game' looks at where the pain comes from - the personal, physical, emotional, and broader political experiences feeding into the cycle of addiction for millions of us." A trudging groove and wailing guitar punctuate a lulling apology on the magnetically melancholic "Taker." For Smith, it's "about taking responsibility for your lies, their consequences, and the entire experience." Meanwhile, the ominous bass line and crawling beat of "Blankenship" devolve into schizophrenic string bends with the vitriolic lyrics. The seven-minute "Acheron" offers a dynamic denouement, flowing through a hulking beat guided under gusts of lyrical fretwork and a distorted heavy apotheosis. "We're proud of this, because we earned it as a band," Cole says. "I'm really happy and grateful just to do it in the first place. I can see the change. It's not a record full of solutions, but I'm living my life. I've examined the consequences of my lies; I've got something to say now."

Here we have the third LP by the excellent Guy Hamper Trio, featuring James Taylor on Hamond organ, and Guy Hamper on guitar (sometimes called Childish) and what a first-class LP this is! 'Instrument of Evil' in particular has a very eerie vibe. We asked the man himself what was the inspiration for it? G.H. The track is the sequel to '7% Solution', which featured on the last Guy Hamper Trio LP (with Thee Headcoats standing in as rhythm section). A 7% Solution being the amount of morphine Dr Watson administered to Sherlock Holmes. For 'Instrument of Evil' I took Sherlock Holmes' later designation of his syringe as "an Instrument of Evil". This is originally a quote from the bible- "Wicked men do at times reject God's purpose for the state, transforming the good of civil government into an instrument of evil." Point of interest: Morphine addiction happens to tie in with another aspect of the song. In the section that nods to Elmer Bernstein's main title theme to the film of the book The Man With the Golden Arm, in which the main character is also a morphine addict. Another ingredient - we added six-string bass to that section in tribute to Jet Harris - he formerly of top group The Shadows, who recorded a great version of Bernstein's classic. To top it all off the record sleeve references the fine graphics of the great Saul Bass. The track also features contributions from Tom Morley (trumpet) and Anna Jordanous (sax) . Both Were a pleasure to work with. My job at the wheel is to basically make a playground and let Jamie, Anna and Tom loose in it with very little direction, apart from pointing out the swings and location of the roundabout. I told Tom "you're a Spanish trumpeter stood on a hill in Spain." For Anna, I think we said "go low and nasty." Other titles are taken from early poetry chapbooks I made in my youth. 'The First Creature is Jealousy' and 'Dog Jaw Woman' being examples. The title 'Incense Rising From a Censer' comes fromDostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, a book I really recommend....

The Apotheosis Of Band Of Holy Joy's Bile Toward Today's Pathetic State Of Affairs Will Be Released Shortly - A Blistering Remix Of "The Devil Has A Hold On The Land" From Their Last Album, Neon Primitives. Remixed By Youth (Killing Joke Bassist, Paul Mccartney Collaborator, Producer Of Melanie C And U2!), Who Was So Taken By The Song As To Remix It Gratis, The Remix Will Be Part Of A Series Of 23 Discrete 7" 45s By Jon Langford Of The Mekons And An Assortment Fellow Travellers From Around The Globe. Dreams Take Flight Transitions From Political Discourse Into A Post-Virus Rebirth Of Human Relationship And The Inevitable Fumblings Of The Society's Psychological Reconstruction Over The Forthcoming Year. Have You Ever Wondered What Purpose Your Joy Or My Pain? All Those Moments Shared Together To Be Washed Away By The Rain . . . Have You Ever Doubted Our Super Hipster Being Love-In At All? Just A Pair Of Urbane Fools Passing Through Waiting For Our Call . . . Take A Leap Into The Great Unknown. Almost Perversely Heart-On-Sleeve, Johny Brown And Compatriots Have Never Fitted Well Within A Particular Scene - Nor Have They Ever Seem To Try. Although Recorded Under The Existence Of Quarantine And A Healthy Amount Of Paranoia, In Search Of The Joy Of Greatly Hindered Collaboration, The Band Has Opted To Turn Over Each Song To A Different Visionary Video Artist For An Exhibition Which Will Take Place For A Week At London's Gallery 46 Beginning At The End Of February And Open To The Public. The Video Exhibition Will Subsequently Be Available Online, Before The Album's Release.While Still Featuring Some Of The Band's Strongest Songs, Dreams Take Flight Has A Strange Film-Like Ambience In Parts, Almost As If Planned As A Soundtrack, A Thought Mirrored In Inga Tillere's Sublime, Dream-Like Sleeve, Best Seen In Real Life. "A Leap Into The Great Unknown" And "Notes From A Gallery" Will Likely Be Heard As Too Disarmingly Direct For Radio, And The Videos Will Likely Never See The Entry Door To Mtv, But Dreams Tak...

Superb 45 featuring two Hammond-led instrumentals!We caught up with Mr Guy Hamper for an insightful Q&A_ Q: What a cracking single this is! 'Instrument of Evil' in particular has a very eerie vibe. What was the inspiration for it?A: The track is the sequel to '7% Solution', which featured on the last Guy Hamper Trio LP with Thee Headcoats standing in as rhythm section. A 7% Solution being the amount of morphine Dr Watson administered to Sherlock Holmes. For 'Instrument of Evil' I took Sherlock Holmes' later designation of his syringe as "an Instrument of Evil". This is originally a quote from the bible: "Wicked men do at times reject God's purpose for the state, transforming the good of civil government into an instrument of evil." Point of interest: Morphine addiction happens to tie in with another aspect of the song. In the section that nods to Elmer Bernstein's main title theme to the film of the book The Man With the Golden Arm, in which the main character is also a morphine addict. Another ingredient - we added six-string bass to that section in tribute to Jet Harris - he formerly of top group The Shadows, who recorded a great version of Bernstein's classic. To top it all off the record sleeve references the fine graphics of the great Saul Bass. Phew!Q: The track features contributions from Tom Morley (trumpet) and Anna Jordanous (sax). What's it like working with them?A: They are great and easy to work with. I basically make a playground and let them loose in it with very little direction, apart from pointing out the swings and location of the roundabout. I told Tom "You're a Spanish trumpeter stood on a hill in Spain." For Anna, I think we said "go low and nasty." Q: On the flip side you have 'Incense Rising From a Censer'. A very evocative title for an evocative track. Do you have lyrics in mind for this for a possible later release?A: No lyrics have sprung to mind as yet - but it's always possible. The title is from The Elders observation in Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, a b...

That ol" spirit and image of SF has meant a lot of things loved and lost over the past couple centuries - but the most recent golden age is still cooling in the hearts and minds of many nu music enthusiasts, god bless "em! In truth, it"s already hardened into fact and myth - or in the case of this fantabulous GOD? release, into retrospective compilation, with the far-flung fascinations of the Folding Cassettes label repping the time and place for our dew-eyed purposes.Folding Cassettes - yup, a cassette label - was pretty much done and sorted when the new era of peak cassette improbably broke wide in the early twenty-teens. Back in 2001, when founded by Mike Donovan, it was more representative of the exclusive confines of the urban underground, well represented as always around the Bay area. Mike had been jitterbugging through the scene for several years, playing with this group and that, starting a label and releasing some ACTUAL LPs and CDs (to no avail) - and with notoriety fronting Sic Alps still several years hence, he had the time and energy to reach out and tap the shoulder of his fave local talents, not to mention legends, resulting in a sequence of dozens of delightfully EFFED SF-ite releases on Folding Cassettes.The gambit? Run. The various musics curated included everything from lo-fi to free-form to metal (so far as rock was concerned), with further genre distinctions including abstract electronics, laptop noise, contempo-jazz-fusion, country-folk and even comedy, all of it delivered with a highly demanding, archly punk sensibility. The players? Hailing from names you might recognize today - members of O.C.S. (multiple ones!), Gang Gang Dance, Child Abuse, Krallice, Lightning Bolt and Comets on Fire, all of them getting down with the freedom and some truly head-cleaning sounds. Plus Kit Clayton (as himself)! Mikey Wild! A slice of (the now-defunct style of (now impossible)) anonymous crank call comedy! And even a little number from curator Mike D. himself! All burned into vinyl for the f...

After 20 years of living on the road in different places, Six Organs of Admittance had returned home to Humboldt County - a far country, to some, but still part of the world through which creatures of all kinds are moving through and contributing to. And some of them are human. Alone together - forming connection and exchange out of thought and expression - no different from the people on the other side of the Redwood Curtain. It was there, where Six Organs had long ago emerged, in the name of everything cycling, of circles that spiral concentrically and remain unbroken, the new music was conceived. In moments, it was as if the future had somehow wrapped around 360 degrees; elsewhere, the systems and patterns inside the writing and recording only became evident later - like a recognition that cumulus and nimbus clouds which passed through the sky the day before contained familiar shapes. Informing the songs accordingly as he went, Ben picked up on modes both musical and lyrical, threading backward through the time of Six Organs of Admittance. Almost marinating in it as a way of life. Working on the music and the vocals, then spending some time with them while stepping away from them. Walking the dog and coming back to them Time is Glass is made of that kind of time. Alone time. Recorded in the visceral environs of home, Time is Glass is sharply focused, even as misty impressionist mountains float through the background. Sweet and spiny, "The Mission" sings its purpose, before turning abruptly to the orchestral rumble of "Hephaestus": rural industrial psychedelia, ecosystem goth, synths arcing to lift a helplessly earthbound community into the firmament above. Winding almost imperceptibly back into song with "Slip Away", the time of the record becomes clear, moves fluidly, relaxed but aware, from event to event. People and things coming around again. The intuit, passing through wormholes and time, sounding deep then dissolving into the universal. The acoustic sounds ringing, layered suddenly, then clear again. Explosions of a new kind of distortion. Ecstatic melodies. Communing. The space of a day. The space of a season. Time is Glass, and Six Organs of Admittance is here and will be here, again.

Meg Duffy grew up in a small town in Upstate New York and they cut their teeth as a session guitarist and touring member of Kevin Morby’s band. The Hand Habits project emerged after Meg moved to Los Angeles; it started as a private songwriting outlet but soon evolved into a fully-fledged band with Meg at the helm. Hand Habits’ debut album, Wildly Idle (Humble Before The Void), was released by Woodsist Records in 2017. The LP was entirely self-produced and recorded in Meg’s home during spare moments when they weren’t touring. Wildly Idle (Humble Before The Void) is a lush, homespun collection of folk songs that found Meg in an exploratory state as an artist moving out on their own for the first time.

Two years later, Hand Habits has returned with their sophomore album, placeholder. To make this album, Meg chose to work in a studio and bring in collaborators, entrusting them with what had previously been a very personal creative process. Over the course of 12 tracks, Meg emerges with new confidence as both a bandleader and singer. This album is as tender and immediate as anything Meg’s ever written, but it’s also intensely focused and refined, the work of a meticulous musician ready to share their singular vision with the world.

The name placeholder stems from Meg’s fascination with the undefinable. Their songs serve as openings -- carved-out spaces waiting to be endowed with meaning. As a lyricist, Meg is drawn to the in-between, and the songs on this new album primarily confront the ways in which certain experiences can serve as a stepping stone on the road to self-discovery. “A big aspect of my songwriting and the way I move through the world depends on my relationships with people. The songs on placeholder are about accountability and forgiveness,” Meg says. “These are all real stories. I don’t fictionalize much.”

Meg describes these songs as their most direct to date, crafted with clear intention, and unlike Wildly Idle (Humble Before The Void), placeholder doesn’t meander. “It’s less of a submerged landscape and more a concise series of thoughts,” Meg explains. Instrumentally, placeholder can be situated alongside some of Meg’s folk-adjacent contemporaries like Angel Olsen or Big Thief, and the guitar work on this album proves that Meg continues to be one of the finest young musicians working today. placeholder is another entry in the Hand Habits songbook, but it’s also a valuable testament of our time. While placeholder inspires a sense of ease, simple questions rarely beget easy answers and Meg honors the indescribable joy and profound sorrow that comes with figuring things out, one step at a time.

Dear Reader, About a year or two ago, Naomi Yang (of Galaxie 500) reached out to me after she rediscovered a video that we had made together in 2011, during the making of Tramp, just before the album's release. It was for the song Serpents. The timing was uncanny, approaching the anniversary of Tramp. Thinking about my time in New York while in the bubble of Los Angeles and my home. Thinking about how restless I was, and now settled down and stable. Thinking about how Aaron Dessner took a chance on me after I messaged him with a fury of demos. He could see through the hiss and crappy vocals on my GarageBand demos, and that I had something to say. He gave me the confidence to be loud and to scream my rage and feel founded and justified in my own pain. He gave me more tools to find catharsis in my work. I have carried that with me ever since. Being on the west coast the last two years, I look back on my community in New York and am forever grateful. I had so many friends and peers step up and help me unfold these demos. The album that it became. Doug Keith and Ben Lord from my original touring band, Logan Cole, Peter Silberman from The Antlers, Jessica Larrabee from She Keeps Bees, Thomas Bartlett of Doveman, Rob Moose of yMusic, Jenn Wasner of Wye Oak, Julianna Barwick, Zach Condon of Beirut, Matt Barrick (of the Walkmen), Clarice Jensen, Ben Lanz, Bryce Dessner, and Bryan Devendorf (of The National). I had almost forgotten about a song titled This Is Too Right that didn't make it onto the record. It was one of the first guitar "riffs" I had ever written and Jenn Wasner sang on it with me. A song about not believing how good I had it, like the other shoe was about to drop. I hope everyone that helped make this record and supported it, feel the love and admiration that I continue to hold for all of you. I hope that in sharing this record again, with a new video and this forgotten track, that new listeners are brought into this album and find meaning and relevance in it today. All of the musicians on this album helped me come to life and perform in ways I never had before. May these songs find you well. Sending all my love, Sharon.

After decades on the road and the never-ending hustle of life as an artist, Lou Barlow has tapped into a new confidence in the chaos. In 2021, the concept of balance feels particularly intimidating. Now more than ever, it's clear life isn't just leveling out a pair of responsibilities. Instead, we're chasing after a flock of different ideals with a butterfly net. On Barlow's new solo album, Reason to Live, he has come to an understanding of that swirl rather than trying to contain it. As a long-time indie legend, Barlow has found a life akin to a middle-class musician. In recent years, he's moved from Los Angeles back to Massachusetts, where he lives with his wife and three kids. And yet rather than settle into a comfortable malaise or yearn for the open road, Barlow's strengthened urgency finds a way to merge the two instincts. Reason to Live is shambolic and grand yet intimate and doting, warmly acoustic and crackling with grit. "I had been struggling for a way to connect both my home life and my recorded life, but this record is the first time I've integrated that," Barlow says. By folding the many facets of his life into one package, Reason to Live radiates with a renewed balance and calm. That comfort in complexity shines through even in the recording process, with select songs having origins in decades past and others written in the early stages of 2020. The multitude of whirring messages of Reason to Live are united by Barlow's roiling multilayered arrangements and the understanding that change is inevitable - and that it can bring you a new reason to live in the darkest times. "This album is me really opening up, and the album follows that through its many different themes," he says. "Some of my other work could be almost claustrophobic in its insistence on being all tied together but there's space for people to live inside these songs." After albums with Sebadoh, Dinosaur Jr., Folk Implosion, and under his own name, listeners may have felt they knew the construction of a Barlow song, even that they knew Barlow himself. "People have this vision of me as this heartbroken, depressed guy, but this record feels so true to who I am, to this rich life I now have full of people I love," he says. "The songs culminated over the last five years to show that music has returned to its central comforting role in my life. Now I'm home."

After decades on the road and the never-ending hustle of life as an artist, Lou Barlow has tapped into a new confidence in the chaos. In 2021, the concept of balance feels particularly intimidating. Now more than ever, it's clear life isn't just leveling out a pair of responsibilities. Instead, we're chasing after a flock of different ideals with a butterfly net. On Barlow's new solo album, Reason to Live, he has come to an understanding of that swirl rather than trying to contain it. As a long-time indie legend, Barlow has found a life akin to a middle-class musician. In recent years, he's moved from Los Angeles back to Massachusetts, where he lives with his wife and three kids. And yet rather than settle into a comfortable malaise or yearn for the open road, Barlow's strengthened urgency finds a way to merge the two instincts. Reason to Live is shambolic and grand yet intimate and doting, warmly acoustic and crackling with grit. "I had been struggling for a way to connect both my home life and my recorded life, but this record is the first time I've integrated that," Barlow says. By folding the many facets of his life into one package, Reason to Live radiates with a renewed balance and calm. That comfort in complexity shines through even in the recording process, with select songs having origins in decades past and others written in the early stages of 2020. The multitude of whirring messages of Reason to Live are united by Barlow's roiling multilayered arrangements and the understanding that change is inevitable - and that it can bring you a new reason to live in the darkest times. "This album is me really opening up, and the album follows that through its many different themes," he says. "Some of my other work could be almost claustrophobic in its insistence on being all tied together but there's space for people to live inside these songs." After albums with Sebadoh, Dinosaur Jr., Folk Implosion, and under his own name, listeners may have felt they knew the construction of a Barlow song, even that they knew Barlow himself. "People have this vision of me as this heartbroken, depressed guy, but this record feels so true to who I am, to this rich life I now have full of people I love," he says. "The songs culminated over the last five years to show that music has returned to its central comforting role in my life. Now I'm home."

If you could recreate a time before you experienced the most extreme grief of your life, would you do it? For Rituals of Mine’s Terra Lopez, she did just that. With her latest album Hype Nostalgia – her first as a solo artist – Lopez wanted to create a soundscape from a pre-loss perspective, revealing how the darkness she experienced was just microcosms of her being. Hype Nostalgia reckons with the emotional rollercoaster Lopez has been riding the past few years, and reimagines it. In 2015, Lopez lost her father to suicide and six months later her best friend passed away in a water accident. “Those two events within that six month-period, forever changed me, and I'm only now starting to feel like I've processed it after all these years,” Lopez says. The same week her father died, she went on tour, and the same week that her friend died, Lopez signed to a major label, immediately working on new music. She never slowed down and neither did her emotions. Lopez went from being a high-functioning depressed person to encountering the most crippling mental health experience of her life. Art had always been her outlet, but it was no longer a coping mechanism that worked. Trauma had taken away her voice, leaving Lopez unable to sing for a year. It wasn’t until 2018 when she decided to go to therapy and began taking medication for the first time that she could process the trauma she had experienced, not only in the recent years, but intergenerational trauma she discovered in eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (emdr). Sure, there are heavy elements to the record: dark synths, future R&B undertones, propulsive bass and moody lyrics, but the softness of Lopez’s vocals elicits a quiet confidence. On the self-assured lead single “Come Around Me,” the most straightforward song Lopez has ever written, she confronts being taken advantage of as a gay woman of color in the music industry. “None of this fake shit when you come around me,” she sings breathlessly. Lopez enlists musician Kristina Esfandiari (King Woman, Nghtcrwlr), to tackle the same subject on the anthemic “Free Throw,” meditating on the fake support that comes from their male counterparts in the music industry.

As Patois Counselors close in on a decade of existence, they are back to confirm their standing as one of America’s most consistently forward-thinking rock units. Although it’s been an entire presidential term since the Counselors acclaimed sophomore album The Optimal Seat came out, Bo White’s group hasn’t been lying fallow. Over the last few years, the seven-person line-up has been busy writing, recording and gigging, resulting in Enough: One Night at the Daisy Chain, a live-in-the-studio document captured in Brooklyn while on tour. Released at the beginning of 2024, Daisy Chain works splendidly as both a greatest hits primer and a forthcoming album teaser. Alas, the teasing is over with the arrival of Limited Sphere, the third album from Charlotte, NC’s Patois Counselors. Once again, Ever/Never steps up to the plate to demonstrate their confidence in this hard-working crew. In most contexts, a septet band configuration signals either a jazz ensemble or a mishmash of madcap noise. Beholden to no rules, Patois Counselors pluck from a selection of tactics as needed. Even augmented by extra players, each member reinforces their specific role, performing exactly what is needed for the track at hand. White’s post-modern muse needs plenty of room to stretch out and breathe and the big band spreads out the tent as far as it will go. White’s songs are rife with earned skepticism, sly asides and deft twists of tongues and licks. The manner in which the little details accumulate into the structure of the whole keeps the listener engaged. In other words, this is pop music for benevolent, discerning brainiacs, but regular people can dig it too. For Limited Sphere, Patois Counselors relax their grip on the tense post-punk that they mastered long ago. Songs like “Fountain Of UHF,” “Serious Rider” and “Ranking Set” still touch on this style, but now White’s voice shares the air with woodwind instruments that add even more depth and texture to his songs. The effortlessly groovy, vaguely loungey “Marge Attack” conjures fond memories of early Stereolab, while “Return To Sensitivity” evokes the magic hour of twilight, insects buzzing and zipping through dusky sky. Foregrounding the haze and mist in these songs, you can detect traces of Eno’s Another Green World in Limited’s atmoSphere, particularly on the closing “Cathy Music.” For their third proper album, Patois Counselors have crafted another seamless set of songs for practical fantasists and head-in-the-clouds cynics. The sphere outlined here may be limited, but the boundaries have been expanded significantly. —Erick Bradshaw

Nick Llobet (they/them) was ready to throw in the towel. Llobet, who grew up in South Florida, learned to play guitar at a very young age, dabbling in everything from classical, blues, classic rock, and flamenco. They'd spent much of their early 20s searching for their voice as an artist and as an individual, as well as for a musical community Llobet would eventually move to Brooklyn, but after three years of looking for a hopeful artistic breakthrough, they spent much of their time in seclusion, consumed by social anxiety and imposter syndrome-and they were considering abandoning songwriting completely. One day, while commuting through Penn Station en route to their partner's family home in Virginia (that would also lead to the crucial purchase of a secondhand Tascam cassette recorder), they noticed Patti Smith sitting alone, waiting for a train. The typically shy Llobet decided to approach the icon, who was, in turn, delighted to see that Llobet was carrying a guitar. At the end of their interaction, Smith offered some parting wisdom: "She wished me luck and said, 'Practice hard, Nick.'" Llobet took her advice to heart, and this chance encounter kicked off a personal and artistic rebirth. They started performing as youbet, a play on their last name, and began "changing [their] vision for what a song could be." youbet's debut, Compare & Despair, a delightful gem of a record that showcases Llobet's propensity for freewheeling whimsy and emotional intensity. In May 2019, inspired by a song-a-week writing group that produced Compare & Despair, Llobet started a second club in which contributors would upload that week's song to a private Bandcamp. Invigorated by this small musical collaboration, the feedback, and the accountability, Llobet wrote 18 songs throughout the duration of the club, twelve of which became Way To Be. After this songwriting marathon, Llobet spent 2020 focusing on instrumental guitar work and political engagement. By the summer of 2021, they were ready to revisit the Way To Be tracks. Over the next year-and-a-half, Llobet worked on the record relentlessly, refining the lyrics, recording, and arrangements from their apartment. Llobet self-produced Way To Be and describes the process as an enormous, labor-intensive undertaking that felt akin to "making a whole film." Along the way, Llobet was joined by collaborators, including Julian Fader (Ava Luna), Adam Brisbin (Buck Meek), and Daniel Siles. Across Way To Be's 12 delightfully off-kilter tunes, Llobet uses wordplay and tongue-in-cheek humor to obliquely explore dysfunctional relationships, regret, self-confidence or the lack thereof, queerness, and self-discovery. Fuzzy at the edges and filled with playful, kinetic arrangements, Way To Be is a bridge into the entrancing world of youbet. You won't want to leave.

This is the second time out for the Wormholes on AllChival following on from their You Never See the Stars When it Rains anthology release. This one is a previously unreleased album recorded in a concise burst of seven nights in Dublin’s Sun Studios in the spring of 1996. It was originally envisaged as being The Wormholes’ second album, the follow up to their 1994 debut Chicks Dig Scars. Unfortunately the end result of the sessions - Parijuana - would not only be ignored by their label of the time (Roadrunner Records) - but would also just as quickly be dismissed by the band themselves.

Eamonn Crudden, the manager of the band, had manged to extract some money from Roadrunner to record demos of new tracks as soon as the release cycle for their debut was over. The budget was so tight that it covered studio time but was not even enough to buy the master tapes. With things going south with the label – a classic 90’s tale of the A&R man who championed their cause heading off elsewhere the minute they signed - the intention was to go in and aim to record an album rather than demos - with the intention of releasing it on another independent label to keep the momentum around the band going.

However by this stage the Wormholes were totally wrapped up in listening to Can, Faust and generally exploring music based on casual recording, improvisations and extemporization. For them the album was too ‘rock’ and – having been dropped by Roadrunner - they no longer felt under any obligation to release it. To them it was time for a fresh start. Their next recordings would not be ‘for’ anyone but themselves. Today bassist Anto Carroll admits that “at times we were our own worst enemies” and with the benefit of hindsight both he and guitarist Graham Blackmore wish they had gone ahead and released this album at the time. However, back then, they thought they could do better and they did go on to make inventive and unique sounding versions of some of these songs with Stan Erraught producing just a short time later. These recordings were eventually released by Dead Elvis in 1999 - along with a couple of ‘adjusted’ tracks from the Sun Studios sessions - on Parijuana: 4 Years in Captivity.

It’s highly unlikely that listeners today will share the band’s view that the abum was too ‘clean’. This version of Parijuana is dirty, raw, messy with plenty of experimentation and extemporisation. The songwriting is as strong as that on their Chicks Dig Scars debut. The music is played with a new confidence and swagger, very much the sound of a band rooted in a wave of US ‘lo-fi’ finding their own sound. It’s the missing link between their conventional Pavement/Sebadoh influenced debut to the more drawn out, free roaming and extemporised second album proper Scorpio The Album.

Born on Staten Island to an Italian/Puerto Rican family with strict religious beliefs, Becca Mancari spent much of her childhood wrestling with issues of identity and belonging. When she set out on her own, Mancari followed the wind from Appalachia to Arizona, from south Florida to India, drifting in search of purpose and community. She eventually found both in East Nashville, where she garnered widespread acclaim for her strikingly honest songwriting and moving performances. Her debut Good Woman was a critical smash, praised by NPR and hailed as one of 2017's best by Rolling Stone. Her songs racked up millions of streams, which helped land Mancari dates with the likes of Margo Price, Natalie Prass, and Julien Baker, among others. On top of her solo work, Mancari also teamed up with Alabama Shakes frontwoman Brittany Howard and songwriter Jesse Lafser to form Bermuda Triangle, which earned similarly glowing reviews as they performed sold-out headline shows across the country.Despite all her success, the relentless pace of life on the road left Mancari little time to grapple with the trauma of her past, nor absorb any new challenges arising in her present. So, in 2019, Mancari decamped to friend and producer Zac Farro's home studio to set about constructing her sophomore album, a record that would balance unflinching self-examination with intoxicating grooves and infectious instrumental hooks. The two worked to capture the vast majority of the album themselves in Nashville before relocating to Los Angeles for finishing touches with GRAMMY-winning engineer/producer/mixer Carlos de la Garza (Paramore, Tegan and Sara).The result is The Greatest Part. Propelled by an airtight drum groove and lacerating guitar line, hypnotic opener "Hunter" finds Mancari singing to a ghost from her past, promising, "You're never gonna track me down / You're never gonna find me out," her crystalline voice floating effortlessly above the distorted maelstrom brewing below it. Like much of the album, it's a song of defiance and self...

Welsh post-punk unit Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London. Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.”

Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra). Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.” A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued.

The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again. The song’s refrain captures the elision of time, spilling through the haze of days, from chaos to acceptance: “I can’t see the clock through the shrouds of smoke / Does it matter? / Common ground / In a never ending space.”

Welsh post-punk unit Chain Of Flowers return with their lofty and long-simmering sophomore full-length, rich with reckonings, reverb, and redemption: Never Ending Space. Despite some of the songs dating back a few years, the record first began materialising in earnest during the pandemic, by which point most of the band had relocated from Cardiff to London. Reunited and rejuvenated, they picked up where they left off, booking two multi-day sessions at Hackney hub Total Refreshment Centre with producer Jonah Falco. In this time they successfully channelled their kinetic chemistry into 10 full-blooded anthems of torn dreams, poetic delirium, and “hope stretched too far.”

Musically, Never Ending Space skews notably more maximal than the group’s previous work, fleshed out with trumpets, saxophone, synth, percussion boxes, and spoken word. (Smith jokingly calls them The Chain Of Flowers Orchestra). Yet the songs still swing and soar with a charged heart, ripe with hooks, drama and ragged melody. Opener “Fire (In The Heart Of Hearts)” stirs to life on a tide of wiry guitar and defiant horns, facing down the embers of love that still glow in the wake of pain: “Peace came tumbling like a shower of bricks / The mind twists slowly till everything fits.” A tense energy ripples throughout – from the nocturnal rush of “Serving Purpose” and “Amphetamine Luck” to the bruised battle cries of “Torcalon” and “Old Human Material.” Outliers like “Praying Hands, Turtle Doves” hint at proggy possible futures, while instrumental vignette “Anomia” offers an intriguing glimpse at a lesser heard facet of the band: swaying, shadowy, subdued.

The album’s title track is also its closing cut, a stomping, sparkling ode to “the wrong side of the night, where time goes to die.” Smith describes the scene: “Everyone’s talking, screaming, trauma bonding, but no one’s listening. Broken dialogue. Shouting over each other. You want to switch off, but everyone’s too fucked.” The guitars spiral and slide towards the oblivion of dawn, the chance to crash and do it all again. The song’s refrain captures the elision of time, spilling through the haze of days, from chaos to acceptance: “I can’t see the clock through the shrouds of smoke / Does it matter? / Common ground / In a never ending space.”

A sense of destiny hangs over Sentir Que No Sabes, Mabe Fratti’s fourth solo-credited album released in a five year span. Her work has always possessed a finely tuned sense of drama capable of expressing a range of emotional states, and across this new album, she conveys the struggle to process various relationships or situations–and the actions that come next. Sentir Que No Sabes is urgent and clear, poppy, generous and approachable, while showcasing a considerable emotional hinterland. It is also, as Fratti is quick to mention, “groovy.”

Written and recorded with her partner, multi-instrumentalist, and co-composer Héctor Tosta (I.La Católica, Titanic), Sentir Que No Sabes is the result of an intense, detail-oriented process. Fueled by a new confidence gained in their collaborative project, Titanic, and its critically acclaimed 2023 LP, Vidrio, the two hunkered down in the familiarity of their studio (aka Tinho Studios) to bash out the initial sonic coordinates of her new record. “We talked and talked, and discussed ways of playing and recording, until things became inevitable,” Fratti explains. “We recorded a bunch of demos at our home studio and that meant we had a lot of time to re-edit and experiment. We really dug in. We were super focused on detail.” Tosta also took up the controls as producer and arranger-in-chief for all additional instruments. The album was later completed at Willem Twee Studios in Den Bosch in the Netherlands, and Pedro y el Lobo Studios and Soy Sauce Studios, in Mexico City.

For the final studio recordings, the pair were joined by drummer Gibran Andrade and trumpetist Jacob Wick to fill out and expand on Tosta’s percussion and brass arrangements. This small group of friends were able to work quickly and openly, and without fear: a testament to the exhaustive groundwork put in at Tinho Studios.

Sentir Que No Sabes is a record full to the brim with a modern pop sensibility, invoked by the sort of magpie spirit that ensnares anything it can find, repositioning sounds for the here and now. The keys and melody on the melancholy “Pantalla azul” (“Blue screen error”) transport us back to the glossy mid-1980s.

The lyrics, for their part, have a stop-start quality to them, and hint at the small, incremental emotional taxes we pay through just living our lives. They circle around the music like birds waiting to swoop. There is something of the spiritual in all of Fratti’s work that expresses itself in a form of yearning: she looks to new horizons while personal dramas find themselves internalized, contextualized, and then dealt with through metaphor.

So what to make of Sentir Que No Sabes? High gloss Pastoralism? The sound of a city-bound, post-post modern soulscape? No matter the emotions evoked, it's the work of an artist coming into their own, and creating a benchmark record.

Named after one of the basic rhythms of Cuban folk music and drawing on influences from across the globe, Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin are quite simply a world unto itself. Comprised of three childhood friends, Daido, Yuta and So, who reconnected during the coronavirus pandemic, Cho Co Pa initially emerged as a playful way for the three 23-year-olds to pass the time. Tapping into their youthful connection, they created a sound that exudes confidence and curiosity, a homage to the masterful world of YMO’s and Happy End’s Haruomi Hosono, rooted in the trio’s own idiosyncratic experience of the present. Recorded at home and promoted on hugely popular DIY TikTok videos, their debut album Tradition is a technicolour exercise in armchair travelling – a kind of lockdown exotica for the housebound whose nostalgic flights of fancy are laced with a sense of whimsical melancholy for the lost freedoms of youth. Referencing everything from Afro-Cuban percussion to lo-fi beats, Buddhist spirituality to trap, each member of the band brings different musical inspirations to the table. Latin American and Middle Eastern styles sit adjacent to a fascination for the electronic music of Aphex Twin, Dorian Concept, Underworld and Daft Punk. At times, the music verges on acid pop bliss, at others, it grooves with the instrumental funk sensibility of Badbadnotgood. “In the first place, when I create a song, my goal is to transport the listener to a mysterious place,” vocalist Daido explained in a recent magazine interview. Using lyrics as another sonic texture in the composition of ideas, Cho Co Pa paint beguiling sonic postcards of far-flung moods across 12 highly original tracks. Marrying the organic and the electronic on rhythmically sophisticated compositions like ‘Chichibu’ and ‘Watatsumi’, it is on the album’s standout track ‘Gandhara’ that the experimental sound of Cho Co Pa comes to the fore. Referencing the ancient city of Gandhara through which Buddhism made its way from India to China, the track is a vocoder-trap-inspired, Udu drum-driven pop jam that lilts with unmistakable Balearic flair. If that’s difficult to imagine, then know simply that ‘Gandhara’ sounds like nothing else on this side of Saturn. Even Daido seemed surprised by the outcome: “I feel like we were able to create something that exceeded our abilities. That was huge!” Hugely popular in Japan, with festival appearances lined up alongside Badbadnotgood at Asagiri Jam in October, it's safe to say the success of Tradition has taken Cho Co Pa by surprise. Released digitally in July 2023, Tradition will get a full international vinyl release in January 2024. You won’t have heard anything like it.

A sense of destiny hangs over Sentir Que No Sabes, Mabe Fratti’s fourth solo-credited album released in a five year span. Her work has always possessed a finely tuned sense of drama capable of expressing a range of emotional states, and across this new album, she conveys the struggle to process various relationships or situations–and the actions that come next. Sentir Que No Sabes is urgent and clear, poppy, generous and approachable, while showcasing a considerable emotional hinterland. It is also, as Fratti is quick to mention, “groovy.”

Written and recorded with her partner, multi-instrumentalist, and co-composer Héctor Tosta (I.La Católica, Titanic), Sentir Que No Sabes is the result of an intense, detail-oriented process. Fueled by a new confidence gained in their collaborative project, Titanic, and its critically acclaimed 2023 LP, Vidrio, the two hunkered down in the familiarity of their studio (aka Tinho Studios) to bash out the initial sonic coordinates of her new record. “We talked and talked, and discussed ways of playing and recording, until things became inevitable,” Fratti explains. “We recorded a bunch of demos at our home studio and that meant we had a lot of time to re-edit and experiment. We really dug in. We were super focused on detail.” Tosta also took up the controls as producer and arranger-in-chief for all additional instruments. The album was later completed at Willem Twee Studios in Den Bosch in the Netherlands, and Pedro y el Lobo Studios and Soy Sauce Studios, in Mexico City.

For the final studio recordings, the pair were joined by drummer Gibran Andrade and trumpetist Jacob Wick to fill out and expand on Tosta’s percussion and brass arrangements. This small group of friends were able to work quickly and openly, and without fear: a testament to the exhaustive groundwork put in at Tinho Studios.

Sentir Que No Sabes is a record full to the brim with a modern pop sensibility, invoked by the sort of magpie spirit that ensnares anything it can find, repositioning sounds for the here and now. The keys and melody on the melancholy “Pantalla azul” (“Blue screen error”) transport us back to the glossy mid-1980s.

The lyrics, for their part, have a stop-start quality to them, and hint at the small, incremental emotional taxes we pay through just living our lives. They circle around the music like birds waiting to swoop. There is something of the spiritual in all of Fratti’s work that expresses itself in a form of yearning: she looks to new horizons while personal dramas find themselves internalized, contextualized, and then dealt with through metaphor.

So what to make of Sentir Que No Sabes? High gloss Pastoralism? The sound of a city-bound, post-post modern soulscape? No matter the emotions evoked, it's the work of an artist coming into their own, and creating a benchmark record.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk. A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion. The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one. Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants. Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings. The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’. Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind. Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

If 2022’s The Children Of Scorpio was the debut album that turned people onto the world of Project Gemini aka Paul Osborne, Colours & Light is the body of work that will be buried deep into their hearts. It is a majestic album, bringing together the worlds of folk rock, psych soundtracks and hazy cinematic funk. A growing confidence and ease emanate from the writing and production of this sophomore LP, bolstered by the reception to his standout debut. “It’s a more layered and diverse record” Paul mentions, “with a more outward-looking, global sound, born out of the records I was listening to and the musicians I was lucky enough to collaborate with”. It feels relaxed yet self-assured, with a kaleidoscope of sounds that twist together in a mesmerising fashion. The theme of the album developed naturally through the lyrics Paul began writing. A creative process both plagued and fed by insomnia, nourished by relationships, entwined in emotions, nights out, nights in and the after-effects on the human condition. Relatable themes yet seen through the prism of a soundscape that takes in many a different culture and scene. From acid folk to psych-funk, Francophile elements to Anatolian and Eastern inspirations, all interlocking and rotating as one. Drawing inspiration from those he admires, Colours & Light radiates with collaborations. The title track, which tips its hat to a live 1973 TV version of Pentangle’s ‘Wedding Dress’, features the folk rock, guitar brilliance of Jack Sharp from Wolf People/Large Plants. Elsewhere, two tracks are blessed by the sultry, smokey French vocals of Gloria’s Wendy Martinez, ‘Extra Nuit’ and ‘Entre chien et loup’. The former echoes Paul's love of classic French psych-pop from the late ’60s and early ’70s and artists such as Laurance Vanay, Calcium, Leonie, and Serge Gainsbourg. Martinez's sublime vocal work nestles perfectly within Paul's psych-folk-funk productions, as her Gloria partner, Alexis Morel (aka Kid Victrola) sprinkles a dose of entrancing guitar line magic on proceedings. The list of collaborations extends further with Raz and Markey Funk, drummer Tony Coote and percussionist Paul Elliott all featuring. Regular collaborator and underground icon Barrie Cadogan (Little Barrie) returns along with Bert Page from The Cromagnon Band, who between them provide a hit of whacked-out, fuzzed-up country guitar and Moog madness respectively on ‘Lost In The Woods (Bacchanal)’. Rounding off the record Paul’s daughter, Olivia Osborne, supplies the keyboard intro on the penultimate track ‘Twilight’. Dorian Conway from The Soundcarriers (whose bandmate Paul Isherwood returns on mixing duties) then layers echoing heavy flute parts to magically capture the psychedelic sunrise images brought to mind. Balancing light and shade on this record, there is beauty and tension all wrapped up in Paul’s vivid and visceral, storytelling gift.

Shortly after Jacob Diamond unassumingly self-released his first record, he found himself touring the world - first with art-pop outfit Methyl Ethel, then with singer-songwriter Stella Donnelly. Upon returning, the sharp, avant-pop songwriter moved from Perth, where he had started out at open mics on school nights, to Melbourne where he found a burgeoning scene of like-minded artists to collaborate and build confidence with. He would go on to join Camp Cope, Julia Jacklin, Courtney Barnett, Phoebe Go and Angie McMahonon stages around the country.

Now signed to Dalliance Recordings (Francis of Delirium, Gia Margaret, Highschool, lilo),Jacob is re-leasing his stunning new album Yes Angel this August. With contributions from Julia Jacklin and Stella Mozgawa (Warpaint), he’s refined his expression into nine remarkable songs through three years of painstaking assembly.

A study in space, each song on Yes Angel is also a setting. Themes of self-love and discovery settle like dust over simple, beautiful performances. Of the album, Jacob says, “I set out to make something confident, intimate, beautiful and alive. I wasn’t confident I could do what I set out to do, so Yes Angel will always be meaningful to me because I did it. Making it taught me to trust my instincts. Recording the album’s most challenging song ‘icuicry’ with producer and Fremantle icon Brod Madden-Scott epitomised this change in me: the song meanders and has a poem in the middle (or a ‘Ted Talk’, as Brod called it) so it needed a delicate touch, but I did what I have the tendency to do and went big. It had a big finish that was almost insecure - as if the song wasn’t enough without a show-stopping finale. But after version 38 or whatever, Brod sent through a mix with a note attached: ‘I just stripped it all back’. It was perfect. Nothing fussy. I immediately knew it was right because I trusted the relief and joy I felt. The song was enough exactly as it was and, as its author, I too was enough. This trust guided the rest of the process.

”Reminiscent of Arthur Russell and Vini Reilly, Jacob’s singular voice and sparse guitar stylings give ache, shape and atmosphere to his songs, allowing tinges of synth and drum machine to push through like flecks of light at their edges. Yes Angel excitingly feels both intimate and alien, perhaps due to being recorded as close to home as Fremantle and as faraway as Joshua Tree. Either way, it stands as a testament to the value of continuing to search for your own voice. Featuring singles ‘New Museum’, ‘Bay of Fleas’ and ‘That Meant The World To Me’, Yes Angel is a revelation. When you allow this music to take you with it, it settles into the heart.

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

Rising from the underground river of primordial goo that runs between New York City and Philadelphia and ascending toward some unknown ethereal plane beyond our comprehension, comes to us the revelatory debut of music and mythos from Godcaster, Long Haired Locusts.

The venerated and shining troupe of David Mcfaul (keys), Von Lee (flute, vox), Lindsay Dobbs (trombone, vox), Bruce Ebersole (bass guitar), Sam Pickard (drums), and Judson Kolk (vox, guitar) transmit a brand of devout, sassy rock and pop that thrashes through stages of blissful, comforting highs and devastating lows, preaching the convergence of the holy and the heretical. This is best displayed on songs like 'Apparation of Mother Mary in My Neighborhood,' where the anxious exertion of sharp, jittery guitars and cutting drums follow the increasingly quickening pace of Kolk's narrative of trepidation before the tension grows too tight and snaps into violent, cathartic outbursts. Similar nerves are addressed and released throughout Long Haired Locusts'the navigation of celestial beauty and corporeal rot is omnipresent and important. 'Serpentine Carcus Crux Birth' and 'Christ in Capsule Form' are both bouncing and vibrant, while 'Blister Intercom' is lush with rejoicing choruses that accompany the marching guitars and drums, and songs like 'All the Feral Girls in the Universe' naturally builds upon an undeniably danceable composition until it reaches, like the album as a whole reaches, a phenomenally euphoric peak.

Long Haired Locusts, recorded live to tape by pop-mysticist Ryan Power in a Philadelphia basement, is a no-frills showcase of Godcaster's essence and best consumed at high volume with as few breakable objects as possible within a flailing extremities reach. And as well as Long Haired Locusts captures the exultant frenzy of Godcaster, it is best to see for yourself the type of magic that bubbles even further beneath the surface that no physical recording could possibly capture. The visceral intensity of any of Godcaster's public ceremonies of performance, small or large, further highlights the immediacy and impact of their guttural, primal expression and unveils more of their enigmatic presence. The thunderous crash of symbols, the slicing guitars, the driving bass, and the angelic cacophony of keys, flute, and voice'especially that of Von Lee, whose crystalline falsetto has a particularly paralyzing magnificence live'leave very few non-believers in their wake. Godcaster creates their own kind of protean piety based on the exaltation of movement and sound and Long Haired Locusts is the first of their sacred texts. It is a statement of purpose and acknowledgment of future growth beyond the limits of these sounds or any others. Whether you praise be or shutter in fear, we must all bear witness to the mythic rise of the music and the movement that is Godcaster.

Archive Series Volume No. 5: Tallahassee is the lost-in-time debut album from Iron & Wine. A collection of songs recorded three years prior to his official Sub Pop debut, The Creek Drank the Cradle (2002). A period before the concept of Iron & Wine existed and principal songwriter Sam Beam was studying at Florida State University with the intent of pursuing a career in film. Tallahassee documents the very first steps on a journey that would lead to a career as one of America's most original and distinctive singer-songwriters. Creek arrived like a thief in the night with its lo-fi, hushed vocals and intimate nature, while almost inversely Tallahassee comes with a strange sense of confidence. Perhaps an almost youthful discretion that likely comes from being too young to know better and too naïve to give a shit. The recordings themselves are more polished than Creek and give a peak into what a studio version of that record might have offered up. Tallahassee was recorded over the course of 1998-1999 when Beam and future bandmate EJ Holowicki moved into a house together. Beam had not been performing publicly, however he was known for playing an original song or two in the early morning glow of a long night. Holowicki also in the film program and who would go onto a career as a sound designer at Skywalker Sound, had a mobile recording device and after some prodding convinced his friend to record these late-night meditations. Together they would record close to twenty-four songs, ideas and sketches, with EJ on bass and Sam on vocals, guitar, harmonica and drums. The recordings - all captured in the house where they lived - have a "live in the room" feel akin to say Neil Young's Harvest or Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left, rather than the homespun lo-fi 4-track home recording experiment taking place at the time. These recordings, minus one track, have never been made available and were instead left preserved on a hard drive for the last twenty years. The one track that floated out there, called "In Your Own Time" was shared without a title to childhood friend Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses) at some point. The song became known as the "Fuck Like A Dog" song and Ben shared it with more than a few folks during the golden era of mix cd's. Two of those folks were Jonathan Poneman from Sub Pop and journalist Mike McGonigal, who included it on his best songs of 2001 mix cd, passed out to friends and acquaintances. And for many that is where the Iron & Wine story begins, until now_ Tallahassee is the foreword to your favorite book that you've somehow skipped over time and time again. It's an alternative history mixed with some revisionist history told over the course of eleven songs. It's also the debut record by Iron & Wine some twenty years after the fact.

Archive Series Volume No. 5: Tallahassee is the lost-in-time debut album from Iron & Wine. A collection of songs recorded three years prior to his official Sub Pop debut, The Creek Drank the Cradle (2002). A period before the concept of Iron & Wine existed and principal songwriter Sam Beam was studying at Florida State University with the intent of pursuing a career in film. Tallahassee documents the very first steps on a journey that would lead to a career as one of America's most original and distinctive singer-songwriters. Creek arrived like a thief in the night with its lo-fi, hushed vocals and intimate nature, while almost inversely Tallahassee comes with a strange sense of confidence. Perhaps an almost youthful discretion that likely comes from being too young to know better and too naïve to give a shit. The recordings themselves are more polished than Creek and give a peak into what a studio version of that record might have offered up. Tallahassee was recorded over the course of 1998-1999 when Beam and future bandmate EJ Holowicki moved into a house together. Beam had not been performing publicly, however he was known for playing an original song or two in the early morning glow of a long night. Holowicki also in the film program and who would go onto a career as a sound designer at Skywalker Sound, had a mobile recording device and after some prodding convinced his friend to record these late-night meditations. Together they would record close to twenty-four songs, ideas and sketches, with EJ on bass and Sam on vocals, guitar, harmonica and drums. The recordings - all captured in the house where they lived - have a "live in the room" feel akin to say Neil Young's Harvest or Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left, rather than the homespun lo-fi 4-track home recording experiment taking place at the time. These recordings, minus one track, have never been made available and were instead left preserved on a hard drive for the last twenty years. The one track that floated out there, called "In Your Own Time" was shared without a title to childhood friend Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses) at some point. The song became known as the "Fuck Like A Dog" song and Ben shared it with more than a few folks during the golden era of mix cd's. Two of those folks were Jonathan Poneman from Sub Pop and journalist Mike McGonigal, who included it on his best songs of 2001 mix cd, passed out to friends and acquaintances. And for many that is where the Iron & Wine story begins, until now_ Tallahassee is the foreword to your favorite book that you've somehow skipped over time and time again. It's an alternative history mixed with some revisionist history told over the course of eleven songs. It's also the debut record by Iron & Wine some twenty years after the fact.

Archive Series Volume No. 5: Tallahassee is the lost-in-time debut album from Iron & Wine. A collection of songs recorded three years prior to his official Sub Pop debut, The Creek Drank the Cradle (2002). A period before the concept of Iron & Wine existed and principal songwriter Sam Beam was studying at Florida State University with the intent of pursuing a career in film. Tallahassee documents the very first steps on a journey that would lead to a career as one of America's most original and distinctive singer-songwriters. Creek arrived like a thief in the night with its lo-fi, hushed vocals and intimate nature, while almost inversely Tallahassee comes with a strange sense of confidence. Perhaps an almost youthful discretion that likely comes from being too young to know better and too naïve to give a shit. The recordings themselves are more polished than Creek and give a peak into what a studio version of that record might have offered up. Tallahassee was recorded over the course of 1998-1999 when Beam and future bandmate EJ Holowicki moved into a house together. Beam had not been performing publicly, however he was known for playing an original song or two in the early morning glow of a long night. Holowicki also in the film program and who would go onto a career as a sound designer at Skywalker Sound, had a mobile recording device and after some prodding convinced his friend to record these late-night meditations. Together they would record close to twenty-four songs, ideas and sketches, with EJ on bass and Sam on vocals, guitar, harmonica and drums. The recordings - all captured in the house where they lived - have a "live in the room" feel akin to say Neil Young's Harvest or Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left, rather than the homespun lo-fi 4-track home recording experiment taking place at the time. These recordings, minus one track, have never been made available and were instead left preserved on a hard drive for the last twenty years. The one track that floated out there, called "In Your Own Time" was shared without a title to childhood friend Ben Bridwell (Band of Horses) at some point. The song became known as the "Fuck Like A Dog" song and Ben shared it with more than a few folks during the golden era of mix cd's. Two of those folks were Jonathan Poneman from Sub Pop and journalist Mike McGonigal, who included it on his best songs of 2001 mix cd, passed out to friends and acquaintances. And for many that is where the Iron & Wine story begins, until now_ Tallahassee is the foreword to your favorite book that you've somehow skipped over time and time again. It's an alternative history mixed with some revisionist history told over the course of eleven songs. It's also the debut record by Iron & Wine some twenty years after the fact.

This Sub Pop Loser Edition is light blue Colored Vinyl! Moaning is a band defined by its duality. The abrasive post-punk trio comprised of LA DIY veterans, Sean Solomon, Pascal Stevenson, and Andrew MacKelvie, began nearly a decade after the three started playing music together. Their impassioned debut album comes born out of the member's experiences with love and distress, creating a sound uniquely dark and sincere. Although the band is just breaking out of their infancy, Moaning's sleek and cavernous tone emphasizes the turmoil of the era they were born into. One where the endless possibility for art and creation is met with the fear and doubt of an uncertain future. Solomon, Stevenson, and MacKelvie initially met as teenagers while growing up in the San Fernando Valley, and immediately developed a kinship through Los Angeles's local music scene. The three began regularly frequenting DIY institutions like The Smell and Pehrspace, eventually selling out dozens of their own shows at both venues with their first few bands. Moaning's conception came when Solomon sent Stevenson and MacKelvie the first demo for "Don't Go," setting the tone for the impulsive songwriting that would follow. The three fleshed out Solomon's primitive recordings, adding in MacKelvie's heavy syncopated drumming, and Stevenson's melodic driving bass and synth parts, capturing each member's personality in their sparse and fuzzed out tracks. Like many of their previous collaborative projects, Moaning forces pain up against pleasure, using the complexity of personal heart break to inform the band's conflicted sound. The band chose the moniker Moaning, admiring the ambiguity the name held, and hoping to reference both an intimate wail and an anguished scream. The band's homemade video for an early, home-recorded version of "The Same" caught the attention of Alex Newport, a seasoned engineer and producer who had previously worked with At The Drive-In, Bloc Party, and the Melvins. With Newport, Moaning began working on the tracks that would make up their self-titled release, employing a lush, open ended production quality that had never been at the band's disposal. Tracks like "Artificial" stand out among the recordings, where Moaning used the studio's recourses to take their frantic live arrangement and give it the intensity merited by Solomon's lyrics. As a whole, Moaning drifts from sentimental to catastrophic, hiding meek and introspective lyrics within powerful droning dance songs, giving sonic nods to some of the band's musical heroes like, New Order, Broadcast, and Slowdive. The band's youthful attitude is met with the weight of topics like loss, routine, and mental health, reflecting the anxiety towards the status quo that much of their generation faces today. Where many young bands take years to find their footing as writers and performers, Moaning has built up a confidence in sound and vision from the ten years of playing basements, bars, and ballrooms together in their previous projects. Yet, even with their polished exterior, Moaning continues to make the sacrifice of deeply personal anecdotes and emotions to their audience for the benefit of their craft.

In 2018, Low will turn twenty-five. Since 1993, Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker_the married couple whose heaven-and-earth harmonies have always held the band's center_have pioneered a subgenre, shrugged off its strictures, recorded a Christmas classic, become a magnetic onstage force, and emerged as one of music's most steadfast and vital vehicles for pulling light from our darkest emotional recesses. But Low will not commemorate its first quarter-century with mawkish nostalgia or safe runs through songbook favorites. Instead, in faithfully defiant fashion, Low will release its most brazen, abrasive (and, paradoxically, most empowering) album ever: Double Negative, an unflinching eleven-song quest through snarling static and shattering beats that somehow culminates in the brightest pop song of Low's career. To make Double Negative, Low reenlisted B.J. Burton, the quietly energetic and adventurous producer who has made records with James Blake, Sylvan Esso, and The Tallest Man on Earth in recent years while working as one of the go-to figures at Bon Iver's home studio, April Base. Burton recorded Low's last album, 2015's Ones and Sixes, at April Base, adding might to many of its beats and squelch and frisson beneath many of its melodies. This time, though, Sparhawk, Parker, and bassist Steve Garrington knew they wanted to go further with Burton and his palette of sounds, to see what someone who is, as Sparhawk puts it, "a hip-hop guy" could truly do to their music. Rather than obsessively write and rehearse at home in Duluth, Minnesota, they would often head southeast to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, arriving with sketches and ideas that they would work on for days with Burton. Band and producer became collaborative cowriters, building the pieces up and breaking them down and building them again until their purpose and force felt clear. As the world outside seemed to slide deeper into instability, Low repeated this process for the better part of two years, pondering the results during tours and breaks at home. They considered not only how the fragments fit together but also how, in the United States of 2018, they functioned as statements and salves. Double Negative is, indeed, a record perfectly and painfully suited for our time. Loud and contentious and commanding, Low fights for the world by fighting against it. It begins in pure bedlam, with a beat built from a loop of ruptured noise waging war against the paired voices of Sparhawk and Parker the moment they begin to sing during the massive "Quorum." For forty minutes, they indulge the battle, trying to be heard amid the noisy grain, sometimes winning and sometimes being tossed toward oblivion. In spite of the mounting noise, Sparhawk and Parker still sing. Or maybe they sing because of the noise. For Low, has there ever really been a difference?

The music of drummer John Colpitts as Man Forever is explorative, innovative and fearless. A musician and composer equally versed in the disparate musical languages of DIY rock, improvisation, and contemporary classical, Colpitts (aka Kid Millions) has made an album that defes genre classifcation. Propulsive, elaborate drum arrangements (created with TIGUE Percussion) remain essential to Man Forever - on the songs of Play What They Want, they are augmented by voice and melody with contributions from Laurie Anderson, Yo La Tengo, and Mary Lattimore to name a few. Play What They Want represents the culmination of 25 years of musical engagement by one of New York’s most acclaimed percussionists. The collaborative process, essential to Man Forever, requires the relinquishing of one’s ego for a greater purpose. In Play What They Want Colpitts leverages a vast and talented stable of diverse collaborators to create a work that transcends the sum of its parts.
“You Were Never Here” kicks off the album with a gorgeous vocal performance by all members of Yo La Tengo and, like the transition from the black and white to technicolor, the piece becomes a driving, wild marriage of Max Roach’s “Garvey’s Ghost,” McCoy Tyner, Alice Coltrane and Steve Reich. World-class harpists Brandee Younger and Mary Lattimore join bassist Brandon Lopez, pianist Sam Yulsman and the Quince Contemporary Vocal Ensemble to create an experimental jazz and classical “dream team.” “Ten Thousand Things” resonates with TIGUE’s tense, virtuosic compound meters, a Moondog-esque vocal by Colpitts and singer Nick Hallett, and another intuitive performance by harpist Mary Lattimore. Finishing the side, “Debt and Greed” is a surprisingly wry pop tune that combines Colpitts’ Jaki Liebezeit-esque drum groove with CSN-style harmonies, guitar by Trans Am’s Phil Manley, and horn playing by Ben Lanz (Beiruit, The National, Sufjan Stevens).
The second side leads with the evocative album centerpiece “Twin Torches.” Here Colpitts worked with the legendary multi-media artist and musician Laurie Anderson, who provided spoken vocals and violin on the nearly 10-minute tour de force. This composition also features arresting vocal atmospherics by Quince, which precede some of the most complex drumming Colpitts has ever recorded. The album closes with “Catenary Smile,” a prickly ballad featuring Nick Hallett’s cascading background vocals which buoy the lyrics: a contemplation of humanity’s problematic tendency to anthropomorphize inanimate things.
While Colpitts’ previous albums have expanded on the possibilities and limitations of drums and percussion, this new album redefnes the project in myriad ways. Building on a complex rhythmic foundation, Man Forever created an album that is innovative, imaginative and joyous. Play What They Want is a rare record of untamed ambition that hits all its marks.

The Trip is the first solo album by N'Zeng, better known as Sébastien Blanchon. It has to be said that he hid behind his (hollow) nose to sniff out the right projects (ex Le Peuple de l'Herbe, member of Entourloop). His nose is hollow, but not for the trumpet, and yet it's with this instrument that he started out. And he reinvents it, giving it a subtle place on this musical road trip we call The Trip. A journey open to all, with no tolls and no filters, apart from the cinematic filter of this lover of original soundtracks and trip hop. Beautiful images flash before our eyes, and in our ears, the smooth voice of Charlotte Savary (Wax Tailor). An album, a very good trip for lovers of Portishead, Gorillaz, and well-felt scratches in the form of controlled skids. He's making a name for himself as N'Zeng, with his smooth arrangements.

N'Zeng's father played trumpet with his grandfather in the Feurs brass band in the Loire department. When he arrived in Saint Etienne, young Sébastien started out with a cornet à pistons at the Conservatoire. His teacher at the time, Marcel Heyte, had won a prize in Paris at the same time as a certain Maurice André.

His father took lessons in orchestral conducting, accompanying the offspring's budding musical career, which included a course at the Festival de Cuivre in Monastier-sur-Gazeille, where he met the soloists of the Radio France orchestra. A new awareness, a new confidence: off to Lyon, not for a soccer derby, but to "beef up his game". In 1997, he was awarded a gold medal for trumpet by a unanimous jury at the Conservatoire National de Lyon.

Lyon, capital of the Gauls, was the starting point for N'Zeng, who went on to become a member of the group Le Peuple de l'Herbe. 15 years later, with several successful records to his credit, a concert in 2003 at the Transmusicales with Beth Gibbons (Portishead), and a Victoire de la Musique award, it was time for N'Zeng to move on to other things.

Arrival in the City of Light, the place where dreams come true. Nzeng's dreams are not only sonic, but also visual, for Sébastien is not only a friendly presence and a talented musician, but also a cinephile. His knowledge of music theory, acquired during his years at the conservatory, enables him to tackle music for pictures.

He created a soundtrack for the cult film Alien - The 8th Passenger, and worked with musician Rone (collaborating with Baxter Dury) and his bandmates from Le Peuple de l'Herbe, composing 2 tracks for the soundtrack of Virginie Despentes's hard-hitting film "Baise-moi". On the album "Hollywood Hustlers", with the group "Mustang Force", he pays tribute to the soundtracks of Lalo Shiffrin, Ennio Morricone... The album is also well received by the critics. He conducts the arrangements and orchestrations for the Degiheuga Orchestra, and composes the original music for the Hôtel Bellevue dance show, another success!

2019 sees the birth of "The Trip" project. On this record, no masks, but a female voice, that of Charlotte Savary (Wax Taylor), laid on a carpet of strings. With this musical voyage, trip hop takes pride of place, with a balance between the body of the instruments and the mechanics of beatmaking.

There's no getting off track on this well-balanced record, with its silky orchestrations. N'Zeng accompanies us elegantly, with his trusty trumpet as GPS, here used subtly. The album cover is a photograph taken by Sébastien Blanchon's mother, in 1973, a year when Saint Etienne was about to become French champion for the 7th time.

If you can't trust yourself, who can you trust? This is the crucial question at the core of Julia, Julia, the moniker for Julia Kugel, founding member of garage punk icons The Coathangers and the dream pop duo Soft Palms. On her first solo full-length album Derealization, Kugel shifts her focus from collaboration and band dynamics towards a singular artistic vision and private self-discovery. Steeped in the beguiling pop elements of her past work, Derealization is a meditative deep dive into the mind of a person struggling to understand a crumbling internal and external world. The album traverses a landscape of ethereal folk, atmospheric deconstructed pop, and dubbed-out country ballads, all centered around straight forward and direct lyrics. This juxtaposition of nebulousness and lucidity gives the album a sense of clarity emerging from the haze, an apt reflection of Kugel's personal growth and journey toward self-acceptance. Derealization is based on weaving the unreal, unsaid, and unknown into an undulating sonic fabric. Vocal layering and abstract instrumentation convey a blurred desperation to connect to an emotional and psychological focal point. Moody, dark, and sumptuous, the record is a flow chart of Julia Kugel coming into herself as an artist and songwriter. The album finds Julia playing almost all the instruments and taking her first stab at engineering at Coma, her and her husband's home recording studio in Long Beach, CA. "You know how touring musicians often speak of whether home is real or tour is real? Well, it can lead you to lose grasp on `reality,' especially when touring is taken away and you are left to wonder if anything was ever real, including yourself. Like you we're just playing a character," Kugel says of her headspace leading up to the creation of Derealization. "Honestly, I kinda lost it, and through making this record I made peace with it and reconciled myself as a real person. I forgave myself and in turn forgave those around me. The song `Forgive Me' is the apology I wanted to say and to hear. I wrote every song from that place and gained the confidence I was pretending to possess." This raw and personal approach to the lyrics is present throughout Derealization. On the opening track "I Want You," Kugel creates a woozy sense of space with reverb-soaked drums and spaghetti western guitars while she lists off her desires for a mysterious "you." Is she actually listing off her desires for herself? For the people around her? As she repeats "do you feel it?" in the song's chorus, it feels as if she's conjuring a magical thread by which we are all connected, showing us how our desires are all the same. On "Fever In My Heart" the listener is treated to a lush, acoustic techno track detailing the exhilarating madness of an emotional breakdown. Simple truths percolate to the surface on "Words Don't Mean Much," as if clearing away the murk of platitudes and empty gestures. The journey continues on the detached and conflicted "Do It Or Don't," an alluring walk through the winding road of lonely choices. The name for the project_Julia, Julia_is a look in the mirror, a reflection of what is hidden and unanswered, of what is real and what is transient. The experience of living life not as you planned it but as it unfolded, and the mysterious, magical pain that creates meaning. Suicide Squeeze Record is proud to offer up Julia, Julia's Derealization to the world on September 30, 2022.

In a long and emotionally exhausting year of being inside (alone, in my case,) I have found myself thinking about mirrors. How to avoid spending too much time in them, most days. Taking inventory of the real, physical self is difficult work, work that I'm not entirely opposed to but work that became immediately more treacherous for me when I had to witness the very real toll that time, modern anxieties, isolation, and boredom were taking on me. It was easier, it seemed, to spiral into a not-so-distant glorious past, to use memory as a tool of both excitement and healing. But, speaking of excitement, I like to stumble towards a band with no agenda, no purpose, uncovering sound almost on accident. This is how I first heard Wednesday. The band came to me and I don't remember how, or why. They simply arrived, as if we'd been traveling toward each other our whole lives. I Was Trying To Describe You To Someone soaked into my summer of 2020, and in sound, in spirit, in central concerns and the execution of them, it took me back to an era before the current era, which I'd needed at the time. The past can feel less hellish than the present if we are, sometimes, not fully honest with ourselves. There is the trick of nostalgia that I spend a lot of time playing with in my own writing, and somewhat tormented by in my own living. The very real idea that nostalgia is both a useful tool and also a weapon if it isn't paired with something that approaches a type of rigorous honesty. But if I may go back to all of these ideas of nostalgia and our old, tricky, past selves that are, indeed, a part of the house of bricks that make up our present self, what I also hope you, listener, might adore about this album is the exact moment at the start of "The Burned Down Dairy Queen" when Karly sings I was hiding in a room in my mind / and I made me take a look at myself. Because if you, like me, have been avoiding mirrors - both metaphorical and real - this is where the album becomes a lighthouse, echoing bright across the darkness of my otherwise dark and empty chambers. So much of these songs meditate on the past in far less romantic ways than I have found myself meditating on the past, and I was desperate for the recalibration that this album provided. So, yes, the songs are good. You will maybe roll down your windows on a comfortable day on the right stretch of road in a warm season and turn the volume up when "Birthday Song" gets good and loud and singalong- able. You might sit atop a rooftop at night, closer to the moon than you were on the ground, and let "Ghost Of A Dog" churn and rattle you to some nighttime realization that you couldn't have had in silence. But, even on top of all of this, on top of all the pleasures and the mercies that the sounds on this album might afford. I hope and think, too, that it will remind anyone who listens that we are a collection of many reflections. All of them deserving patience. _Hanif Abdurraqib

On her second full-length record, Head of Roses, Jenn Wasner follows a winding thread of intuition into the unknown and into healing, led by gut feelings and the near-spiritual experience of visceral songwriting. The result is a combination of Wasner's ability to embrace new levels of vulnerability, honesty and openness, with the self-assuredness that comes with a decade-plus career as a songwriter, producer, multi-instrumentalist and prolific collaborator. Simply put, Head of Roses is a record about heartbreak, but from a dualistic perspective. It's about the experience of having one's heart broken and breaking someone else's heart at the same time. But beyond that, it's about having to reconcile the experience of one's own pain with the understanding that it's impossible to go through life without being the source of great pain for someone else. "Part of the journey for me has been learning to take responsibility for the parts of things that are mine, even when I'm in a lot of pain through some behavior or action of someone else. If I'm expecting to be forgiven for the things I've done and the choices I've made and the mistakes that I've made, it would be incredibly cowardly and hypocritical to not also do the work that's required to forgive others the pain they caused me." Showcasing the depth of Wasner's songwriting capabilities and the complexity of her vision, Head of Roses calls upon her singular ability to create a fully-formed sonic universe via genre-bending amalgamation of songs and her poetic and gut punch lyrics. It's the soundtrack of Wasner letting go - of control, of heartbreak, and of hiding who she is: "I think I've finally reached a point in my career where I feel comfortable enough with myself and what I do, that I'm able to relax into a certain simplicity or straight forwardness that I wasn't comfortable with before." Head of Roses puts Wasner's seismically powerful voice front and center. Those vocals help thread it all together -- it's a textured musicality, quilted together by intentionality and intuition. Wasner and producer Nick Sanborn (Sylvan Esso, Made of Oak) assembled Head of Roses in the same way you'd put together a mixtape, painstakingly and carefully melding disparate parts into a whole, transcending genre to weave a story of heartache and healing together. And in the same way a homemade, painstakingly-crafted mixtape plays out, with the maker's fingerprints left all over its songs - so goes Head of Roses. Carefully curated and culled from the depths of Wasner's heartbreak and healing, it's deeply, intensely personal. But just as we change ourselves by embracing the pain of loss and uncertainty, so too are the purpose of these songs changed through the act of creating them. Having succeeded in healing the person who made them, they now exist for those who find them in their own moments of need. Always in motion, the original spirit of creation has already flown from this place-but it's left behind a blueprint, a tool for you, to lean on, too.

Assassins did what many bands do: they grabbed a moment out of the air and slammed it onto tape machines and hard drives with relentlessness, cunning, and an attitude.

It was in Chicago, mid 2000’s, and though there was energy in the music scene, it wasn’t coalescing into anything you could use as a heading in the musical encyclopedia. Drag City, Thrill Jockey, Bloodshot, Tortoise, Andrew Bird, 90 Day Men – amazing labels and bands, but discrete and siloed and separated by boundaries that weren’t very real.

In the midst of that complicated morass, Assassins generated a collection of songs that became the album YOU Will Changed US. And it did.

There was confidence built into the fabric of the project: 5 members, 2 singers, massive synced video walls and samples streaming from laptops swirling in three dimensions around the stage. They could go from subtle atmospheric moments to a gargantuan wall of sound instantly. It was hard to do- months in cold practice rooms troubleshooting sections of songs or reworking synthesizer patches put the band through a self-imposed boot camp. And it brought them together as a sort of hive-mind focused on one thing: that these songs could connect. They could cut through the noise and share a state of mind with other human beings.

And it worked. Those early shows were mind bending. It was fun, loud, drunken, and rewarding- that time together, before the record deal, before the tragic let down of being traded and gobbled up by the major label system. The years after that got more difficult, more complicated, more human.

Leading us here: the musical journey of the Assassins has ended. With the up-coming release of their second and final album THE Year That Never Came, we finally get to hear, and feel, the final statements of their inspiring chemistry.

In July of 2021, founding member, songwriter and singer Joe Cassidy unexpectedly passed away. THE Year That Never Came is the culmination and end point of a collaboration that started in the early 2000’s with a chance meeting and excited conversation with Aaron Miller at a gig in Chicago. Quickly joined by David Golitko on keyboards, Merritt Lear on vocals and guitar, and Alex Kemp on bass.

It was Miller who saw Joe Cassidy’s song writing in a new context. Cassidy had been known for his beautiful, post- pop inflected Butterfly Child, a thoughtful, regal project where Joe’s emotions could soar. Miller saw a different context for that voice- not dreamy, but immediate, not just hopeful, but demanding. He took Joe’s open hand and suggested that it could be a fist, raised in the air, with a crowd of other people doing the same.

At the time of his death legendary composer and songwriter Jimmy Webb (who wrote such hits as ‘Wichita Lineman and MacArthur Park) said Joe ‘was a creative and generous producer but, more importantly, he was a creative and generous friend.’

With the release of THE Year That Never Came, this band, this relentless creative force, has to finally relent. No one in the band could see a future Assassins that doesn’t include Cassidy. So in one last act of will, for the love of their friend, they did the rigorous work of finishing the songs that they had started together for the second album.

Assassin’s obsession with the notion of time, from YOU Will Changed US to THE Year That Never Came, flows from the most natural question we all have to ask ourselves: what do I do now? Because: how we react today to life’s unpredictability - that is the tomorrow we build for ourselves.

Nowadays, voice memos, videos, and pictures chronicle our lives in real-time. We trace where we've been and reveal where we're going. However, Suki Waterhouse catalogs the most intimate, formative, and significant moments of her life through songs. You might recognize her name or her work as singer, songwriter, actress but you'll really get to know the multi-faceted artist through her music. Memories of unrequited love, fits of longing, instances of anxiety, and unfiltered snapshots interlock like puzzle pieces into a mosaic of well-worn country, '90s-style alternative, and unassuming pop. She writes the kind of tunes meant to be grafted onto dusty old vinyl from your favorite vintage record store, yet perfect for a sun-soaked festival stage. Her first album for Sub Pop, I Can't Let Go, is a testament to her powers as a singer and songwriter. In Suki's words: "The album is called I Can't Let Go because for years it felt like I was wearing heavy moments on my sleeve and it just didn't make sense to do so anymore. There's so much that I've never spoken about. Writing music has always been where it felt safe to do so. Every song for the record was a necessity. In many ways, I've been observing my life as an outsider, even when I've been on the inside. It's like I was a visitor watching things happen." Growing up in London, Suki gravitated towards music's magnetic pull. She listened to the likes of Alanis Morissette and Fiona Apple, and Oasis held a special place in her heart. She initially teased out this facet of her creativity with a series of singles, generating nearly 20 million total streams independently. Nylon hailed her debut track, "Brutally," as "what a Lana Del Rey deep cut mixed with Joni Mitchell's 'Both Sides, Now' would sound like." In addition to raves from Garage, Vice and Lemonade Magazine, Dujor put it best: "Suki Waterhouse's music has swagger." Suki is constantly consuming artists of all stripes, and, in the lead-up to making I Can't Let Go, she was particularly drawn to the work of Sharon Van Etten, Valerie June, Garbage, Frazey Ford, Lou Doillon, and Lucinda Williams. After falling in love with Hiss Golden Messenger's Terms of Surrender, she reached out to its producer Brad Cook (Bon Iver, War On Drugs, Snail Mail, Waxahatchee) to help define the sound of I Can't Let Go. On I Can't Let Go, Suki not only catalogs her life up to this point, but she also fulfills a lifelong ambition. "When I've been stuck or feel out of touch with a sense of inner meaning and outer purpose, I've found both through searching my memories and finding those events buried in the shadowy areas of the psyche where they were ignored," she says. "So many times of change in my life have required return visits-especially at the transitions through to the next stages. The album is an exploration of those moments when there is nothing left to lose. What is left and can't be thrown away is the self."