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Emma Ruth Rundle's Engine of Hell is stark, intimate, and unflinching. For anyone that's endured trauma and grief, there's a beautiful solace in hearing Rundle articulate and humanize that particular type of pain not only with her words, but with her particular mysterious language of melody and timbre. The album captures a moment where a masterful songwriter strips away all flourishes and embellishments in order to make every note and word hit with maximum impact, leaving little to hide behind. "I really wanted to capture imperfection and the vulnerability of my humanity," Rundle says of the album's sonic approach. "Here are some very personal songs; here are my memories; here is me teetering on the very edge of sanity dipping my toe into the outer reaches of space and I'm taking you with me and it's very fucked up and imperfect.'" Emma Ruth Rundle has always been a multifaceted musician, equally capable of dreamy abstraction (as heard on her album Electric Guitar: One), maximalist textural explorations (see her work in Marriages, Red Sparowes, Nocturnes or collaborations with Chelsea Wolfe and Thou), and the classic singer-songwriter tradition (exemplified by Some Heavy Ocean). But on Engine of Hell, Rundle has opted to forego the full-band arrangements of her previous albums in favor of the austerity of a lone piano or guitar and her voice, which creates a kind of intimacy, as if we're sitting beside Rundle on a bench, or perhaps even playing the songs ourselves. It's an extremely up-close and personal confessional with a focus on the rich subtleties and timbre of Rundle's graceful performances. "For me this album is the end of an era to the end of a decade of making records. Things DO have to change and have changed for me since I finished recording it." In essence, Engine of Hell signifies a major turning point for Rundle as both an artist and as a person. The catharsis of this type of songwriting has effectively served its purpose, and to continue ruminating on the past going forward is less of a healing process and more like picking at a scab and refusing to let it heal. This may help explain why Rundle is less than enthusiastic about divulging the details about her muses, but it doesn't alter the fact that these songs served a purpose in their creation, and that they may continue to bring comfort to others. Limited numbers of copies of limited Silver Vinyl available - absolutely exclusively for Indie retail only! :)

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 members sing a song. It's never been more apparent that they are creative siblings, cut from the same belt. "We've been playing music with each other for over a decade," says Shapiro, "so it really does feel like we're all fluent in the same language, and a lot of it just happens naturally." "Laugh" seeks in the balm of friendship, aware of the anticipatory nostalgia that hits during a good time that you're already missing before it's gone; the heavier guitar tones on "Chemtrails" streak ominous chord progressions over Grimm's precision timekeeping, lamenting memories that won't fade easily. During a transitional time, Truscott came across a note in their phone that read, "it's not hard all day, just sometimes," which inspired a poignant line in the chorus of "Kool-Aid," their first song as lead vocalist on a Chastity Belt recording. Another standout, "1-90 Bridge" shines with a silvery melody that soars as Lund belts one of the most resounding moments on the album: "Tell your girlfriend she's got nothing to fear/I'm set in my head/My body's a different story." The track "Blue" saunters nonchalantly with a wink; you can almost hear Shapiro's smile as she sings "Faking it big time/So I can hit my stride/Man, it feels good to be alive," channeling early Chastity Belt channeling early '90s before channeling the late Elliott Smith in a spiral of distortion and insight: "Don't get upset about it/It's gonna pass/Tell all your friends about it/They're gonna laugh." "We have such a strong sense of each other's musical inclinations" says Lund. "I think this allows for a lot of playfulness...we can kinda surprise each other, like a good punchline would."

Exhausting Fire is the seventh full-length studio album by American sludge metal band Kylesa. Heavy rock luminaries Kylesa tap into the infinite with their epic new album 'Exhausting Fire'. 'Exhausting Fire' sees the acclaimed band weave a lush tapestry of their storied sound that exudes confidence, conviction and class. The colossal riffs, dreamy and hypnotic song-craft, and distinct call-and response vocals crush and caress in equal measure. 'Exhausting Fire' is as expressive and expansive as emotion itself and the definition of strength and elegance. This is Kylesa at their best.

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.”

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.

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."

Something a little different from Athens of the North, Crisrail (Chris Rael) is an almost-LP of mad out there funky post punk from Silver Spring, Maryland, USA. Rated and played this out for some time but it has remained mostly under the radar due to scarcity. I could compare it to The Cure but it's so much more. 500 Only

"Playing instruments didn't come naturally to me, but I loved it so much I kept doing it and got better. When I started composing seriously in my early twenties, I didn't have much confidence in my voice or instrumental abilities, but my imagination was on fire and I was determined to create music that sounded like nothing else. I would find my place in the constellation of sound by carving a niche that was so unique, musical virtuosity wouldn't be a factor. I was inspired by Tom Scott of the Muffins, Maryland's legendary progressive jazz quartet, and owner of Black Pond Studios in Rockville, where Game of Music was recorded. It was my first solo release; I played everything except Tom's horn and flute parts. Lacking confidence to perform, I was very much a studio rat and became facile at overdubbing solo tracks. New music reviewers praised it at the time, but its distribution was limited and it's been out of print for decades. Listening now, it's more musically muscular than it felt to me at the time. It's incredibly gratifying that more people can hear it again, thanks to Athens of the North." - Chris Rael

Running With The Hurricane finds Camp Cope on the other side of a storm. The third LP from Melbourne trio Georgia Maq, Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich and Sarah Thompson is about what happens after chaos hits; when you've walked through the fire and come out stronger, calmer and happier than ever before. The band's last album, 2018's How To Socialise And Make Friends, put Camp Cope under an intense spotlight. That release allowed the trio to say what they needed to but both professionally and in their personal lives, they're in a very different place this time around. On Running With The Hurricane, Maq (songwriter, vocals, piano, acoustic & electric guitar), Hellmrich (bass guitar) and Thompson (drums) are older, wiser and happier. It's an album that is gentler than what they have done before, more positive and more at peace with the universe. Because as Georgia Maq sings on the album's title track, sometimes "The only way out is up". While the Big Stuff of this album is all about growth, overcoming and pushing through the pain, the little details are still quintessentially Camp Cope. Running With The Hurricane reflects on faltered romances, secret crushes and vibrating with the confidence that makes you feel like you're on fire. It's about taking comfort in knowing who you are, feeling yourself and returning, always, to the city of Melbourne.

"'Ravens' is the fourth release by electronic live trio N/UM, released by Positive Elevation, the newly launched sublabel of 577 Records, a record company with a nearly two-decade-long history of releasing groundbreaking free improvisation and experimental recordings. The four-track release is a marvel of playful ingenuity, balancing, with unwavering confidence, on the outer limits of the minimal house and techno spectrum while remaining loaded with dance floor appeal and teeming with energetic groove. The thematic material is in rich supply with ethereal vocal loops, uniquely hypnotic guitar work, driving melodic bass lines and percussive hooks and twists that stretch the imagination and shine through with energy and spontaneity that can only really come about in a live setting. Ravens is not a gradually conceived production, pasted together piece by piece, but rather the immediate burst of energy of a band, experienced instrumentalists turning their collective creativity and craft onto the realm of electronic music. There is an almost Perlon-Esque flair to the sound, although 'Ravens' very much carries its distinct fingerprint and steers miles clear of tired clichés and predictable formulae."

I learned how to play music by ear, and just havent learned how to read music since, saysTallent. I would listen to the popular music of the day back then. My favorite was BuddyHolly. And I would mimic what he played on my cheap guitar.Step forward a few years later and Garry becomes a member of Bruce Springsteens The E Street BandIt wasnt until 2016 that Tallent decided to step out of his comfort zone and finally become hisown boss with the release of his first solo album, Break Time.He jokes that it took him 65 years to put the album together, and when asked about it, he seemsuneasy and looks away. When his gaze returns, so has his confidence and the realization thattheres no need to be anxious.Since Break Time, Garry has been working on his second solo release, More Like Me. More Like Me is Garrys homage to the sound of the mid-60s; the sounds he grew up and learned by ear on his cheap guitar. He hopes you like it.

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.

’Hot Thoughts’’ is the bravest, most sonically inventive work of Spoon’s career. With all due respect to earlier efforts that have made the quintet both critically acclaimed and a commercial contender, preconceptions about this band are about to be obliterated. That’s not to say ‘Hot Thoughts’ doesn’t have a requisite supply of infectious earworms but there’s a lyrical bent that’s as carnal as it’s crafty, and a newfound sense of sonic exploration that results in the genresmasher Spoon have flirted with in the past but not fully consummated.
Co-produced by Spoon and Dave Fridmann and reunited with Matador (third time’s the charm), let's acknowledge that Britt Daniel’s spot in the pantheon of rock’s genius songwriters was well established a ways back, but with the crackling, incandescent, multi-dimensional backdrop conjured on ‘Hot Thoughts’, the lines between accessible and experimental become non-factors for once and all. It’s pop as high art, delivered with total confidence and focus.

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.

Coming in hot for the final show of the crazy year of 2021 and with an impressive new line up, Howlin Rain hit Pappy & Harriet’s in Pioneertown California full of adrenalized confidence, deep grooves and their signature, expansive guitarmony-laden jams. Captured on multi-track, Live From Pioneertown is Howlin Rain’s highest fidelity live album since 2014’s Live Rain. This latest entry to the Under The Wheels live series showcases songs from The Dharma Wheel as well as two fan favorites from 2008’s Magnificent Fiend. Available in a vinyl one-time “handmade” edition of 500, all jackets screen-printed by Monolith Press and signed and numbered by Howlin Rain bandleader Ethan Miller.

"I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig" reasoned George Bernard Shaw. "You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it." True to form, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs have left the wiser of us aware that they are no band to be messed with. This is made manifest on 'Viscerals', their third proper, and an enormous leap forward in confidence, adventure and sheer intensity even from their 2018 breakthrough 'King Of Cowards'. Incisive in its riff-driven attack, infectiously catchy in its songcraft and more intrepid than ever in its experimental approach, 'Viscerals' is the sound of a leaner, more vicious Pigs, and one with their controls set way beyond the pulverising one-riff workouts of their early days. Yet Pigsx7 have effortlessly broadened their horizons and dealt with all these new avenues without sacrificing one iota of their trademark eccentricity, and the personality of this band has never been stronger, whether on the Sabbathian and philosophical warcry of 'Reducer', the debauched, Jane's Addiction-tinged swagger of 'Rubbernecker', the Melvins vs Sonic Youth demoltion derby of 'New Body' or even the demented MBV-meets-Twisted-Sister party-banger from hell that is 'Crazy In Blood'. "We're a peculiar bunch of people - a precarious balance of passion, intensity and the absurd" notes vocalist Matt Baty. Such is the unstoppable character of this unique and ever-porcine outfit; still the hungriest animals at the rock trough.

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.

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

Alex Cameron has always been a great storyteller, finding his ways into the depths of the places where not many others are looking, and Oxy Music continues on that trajectory. It's filled with stories of people who fall outside the system and exist in the grey areas of life. And much like 2017's Forced Witness, Oxy Music is a work of fiction. In its design - its music, lyrics and tracklist - lies the journey a person can take, if the circumstances present themselves - down the road of heavy drug and alcohol abuse. Initially inspired by Nico Walker's Cherry, Cameron was spurred into yet another commentary on American Life, this time about the opioid crisis that has taken over the country. Alex says about Oxy Music: "The album is a story, a work of fiction, mostly from the perspective of a man. Starved of meaningful purpose, confused about the state of the world, and in dire need of a reason to live - a person can, and according to the latest statistics, increasingly will, turn to opioids. This is one of those people." While Oxy Music could be dark, it's instead brighter and more buoyant than much of Cameron's previous work, a shift in mood first seen across 2019's Miami Memory. It's told from a place of optimism and through the lens of Cameron, in the way that only he can tell it.

‘The Last of the 20th Century Girls’ is the storied second album from London-based artist Findlay - a full-fledged offering born of a personal journey that sees her at her most open, transparent, and introspective yet, drawing upon her own personal experiences since the release of full-length 2017 debut ‘Forgotten Pleasures’. With complex, fully-realised themes ranging from grief and loss to the struggle of losing and re-building one’s confidence, through to the challenges and pitfalls of the past couple of years, all serve to inspire a range of tracks across the album.

Mastered by five-time Grammy award winning engineer Antoine ‘Chab’ Chabert (Daft Punk, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Sebastien Tellier) and self-described as a “late coming of age story”, drenched in nostalgia, melancholy and the kind of strange experiences only a misunderstood millennial could have; the album effortlessly blends a diverse melting pot of breezy alt-indie, psychedelic pop, dreamy lo-fi chill, indie-rock and expansive cinematic sounds. It’s Findlay at her genre-melting finest, and a sharp, tasteful insight into her unique artistic psyche; a perfect representation of her impeccable alternative sound.

“The plan was to make twenty 90-second tracks designed as TV themes,” says Arab Strap’s Aidan Moffat, of the initial thought behind his new instrumental album as Nyx Nótt “But it wasn't a satisfying listen, it was too gimmicky and silly.”

So instead, Moffat decided to stretch the idea out, plunge deeper, and expand the music into full tracks, “making some of them quite long and dramatic, with the odd swift turn here and there.” In fleshing these tracks out into more fully realised songs he began sourcing samples from professional TV and film music libraries. “The focus then turned to making a proper album out of these modern library sounds,” he says. “I decided to stick with the Themes From title and named the tracks after the sorts of shows they made me think of when I listened back.”

The result is a record that explores genre themes such as: ‘Thriller, ‘Porno’, ‘Caper’ and‘Swashbuckler’, and acts as an audio equivalent of channel hopping through a unique TV station programmed by Moffat. “I still wasn't sure about all this until I did the album cover, which brought it all together,” he says, of the artwork that places an old smashed TV unit front and centre with a woman perched on top. “It has echoes of old TV compilations but is pretty cheeky and slightly sexy in that old 70s compilation style. I wanted this one to look a bit more fun than the last one, as well as hopefully sound a bit more fun too.”

Aside from being a fun experience, it is also a stirring and immersive listen, one that allows the listener to imagine their own accompanying visual scenarios to each musical theme. The opening ‘Docudrama’ marries a gently creeping beat with strings that glide from tense to sweeping, while ‘Porno’ is all seedy smoky jazz that feels plucked right out of Travis Bickle’s late night trips to porn cinemas in Taxi Driver.

Touches of jazz pop up in other places too, on ‘Hardboiled’ this merges with subtle pulses and gargles of electronics that build to a rousing crescendo of horns and bleeps, and on ‘Caper’ there’s a vivacious full jazz band skip to the lively swinging rhythms. “There's a few more jazzy elements here,” Moffat says. “Although I'm not quite sure where that came from. Although, like everyone else, I've had plenty of time to be introspective recently, so I decided the next Nyx Nótt album should be more upbeat and encourage some occasional foot-tapping.”

However, what becomes apparent, the longer you spend in the world of Themes From, is how singular and unique the tone of each composition is. “Each track has its own individual feel,” says Moffat. “The idea was to sound like a different composer and band throughout.” It’s a stylistic leap that continues Nyx Nótt’s trajectory as one that shares no direct link to Moffat’s other projects. “I approach them in completely different ways and with a different purpose in mind,” says Moffat. “I don't think Nyx has ever heard of Arab Strap, and certainly doesn't own any of their albums.” It’s also a notable shift from the debut album under this moniker, and suitably given the theme, Moffat has created a visual comparison between these two sonic worlds. “If the first Nyx Nótt album was like looking out on dark prairies before dawn, this is more like a walk through a neon Soho after a few cocktails.”

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.

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.

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."

Exhausting Fire is the seventh full-length studio album by American sludge metal band Kylesa. Heavy rock luminaries Kylesa tap into the infinite with their epic new album 'Exhausting Fire'. 'Exhausting Fire' sees the acclaimed band weave a lush tapestry of their storied sound that exudes confidence, conviction and class. The colossal riffs, dreamy and hypnotic song-craft, and distinct call-and response vocals crush and caress in equal measure. 'Exhausting Fire' is as expressive and expansive as emotion itself and the definition of strength and elegance. This is Kylesa at their best.

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."

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."

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.

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."

“When new projects are discussed, I sometimes hear a disclaimer along the lines of, ‘this band isn’t reinventing the wheel,’ to which I want to know what’s everyone’s so apologetic about. The wheel was a pretty good invention—good luck getting anywhere without one. So let’s consider a redefinition, instead. Los Angeles based quintet Richard Rose may or may not feature prominent players from bands including but not limited to Ex-Cult, Gøggs, OBN III’s, Snooty Garbagemen, Bad Sports, Hooveriii and Stress Group…but as much as said bands were amongst the best and brightest on offer in Memphis, Houston and Austin, this new amalgamation is a bolder proposition. “Without question, there’s echoes of their past work—the malevolent vocal presence of Laurence Richard and guitar virtuosity of Thomas Rose in particular—but Richard Rose’s first full-length thoroughly ups the ante on the band’s 2019 debut In The Red EP. The wheels in question have plowed thtough the respective discographies of Michigan / Australian bands you know and love, sure, but these guys have found their own voice in a shockingly brief matter of time. Simply put, they’ve fashioned an instant rock classic…there might be a handful of bands in America with this kind of confidence, but in most other instances it’s unwarranted. They don’t possess Richard Rose’s intellect, instrumental prowess, musical range or sense of purpose. “Finally, I will not insult your intelligence by claiming Richard Rose scale these lofty heights without artifice. That they insist on performing under dubious pseudonyms (Laurence and Thomas are joined by bassist Bag Mantrellis, drummer Jerry Leymar and saxophonist Gravy McKay) might give traditionalists pause, but it’s worth remembering our legal system would not function properly without a witness protection program. The modern histories of music and art would also not have unfolded so spectacularly if practioners weren’t brave enough to redefine themselves, and we’re beyond fortune to bear witness to this furious five making the music of their lives.” – Gerard Cosloy

Spirit is the second album by Danish-French Emile, otherwise known from the acid rock band The Sonic Dawn. On this new solo effort, Emile unfolds a new and exciting side of his songwriting. Each song ebbs and flows effortlessly with a great sense of purpose, always centered around Emile’s voice and masterful, mainly acoustic guitar playing. He is backed by a small ensemble of selected musicians and blackbirds singing the sun down. The lyrics reflect an unpretentious cosmic consciousness, simply marveling at existence as it is. Spirit about connection with our surroundings, with nature and the universe. There is beauty in transformation too, Emile reminds us. Spirit is a different album from a different singer-songwriter. It is both surrealistic and easy to understand, accomplished and untamed, light and heavy — like the passing of time.

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.

Spirit is the second album by Danish-French Emile, otherwise known from the acid rock band The Sonic Dawn. On this new solo effort, Emile unfolds a new and exciting side of his songwriting. Each song ebbs and flows effortlessly with a great sense of purpose, always centered around Emile’s voice and masterful, mainly acoustic guitar playing. He is backed by a small ensemble of selected musicians and blackbirds singing the sun down. The lyrics reflect an unpretentious cosmic consciousness, simply marveling at existence as it is. Spirit about connection with our surroundings, with nature and the universe. There is beauty in transformation too, Emile reminds us. Spirit is a different album from a different singer-songwriter. It is both surrealistic and easy to understand, accomplished and untamed, light and heavy — like the passing of time.

Spirit is the second album by Danish-French Emile, otherwise known from the acid rock band The Sonic Dawn. On this new solo effort, Emile unfolds a new and exciting side of his songwriting. Each song ebbs and flows effortlessly with a great sense of purpose, always centered around Emile’s voice and masterful, mainly acoustic guitar playing. He is backed by a small ensemble of selected musicians and blackbirds singing the sun down. The lyrics reflect an unpretentious cosmic consciousness, simply marveling at existence as it is. Spirit about connection with our surroundings, with nature and the universe. There is beauty in transformation too, Emile reminds us. Spirit is a different album from a different singer-songwriter. It is both surrealistic and easy to understand, accomplished and untamed, light and heavy — like the passing of time.

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.

'I'm told to go it alone and just forget / you can love the song but you just can't love the man' 'I was alone, unpacking boxes in the strange old craftsman I rented a room in during my divorce. Out of nowhere my computer turned on and started playing Townes Van Zandt's 'For the Sake of the Song'. I shivered. I melted. I picked up my guitar and wrote 'If Not The Man'' Years later, in an "about damn time" kind of moment, Seattle based singer-songwriter Caitlin Sherman is stepping out solo. She's had her fair share of collaborations over the years, most notably the cosmic psych rock of Evening Bell and the hazy noir of Slow Skate. As a songwriter and arranger in both projects, she also held the role of girlfriend and wife. Now she is neither. Her debut self-titled album is a meditation on love lost and carving out a new independent path. Dark contemplative songwriting explored through fresh unpredictable pop sensibility, dripping with art and purpose. And while past projects incorporated vast soundscapes and string arrangements written by Sherman herself, she made the decision to stick to a set band sound making sure the song itself was the centerpiece.

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.

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...

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.

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."

Returning with the second and final installment in the doom-laden The Exuviae Of Gods EP series, Part II once again contains two never-heard brand new Mournful Congregation tracks and a re-recording of an old classic from the band’s ’90s demo era.

The EP opens with “Heads Bowed,” which the most fanatical Mournful Congregation fans will recognize from their An Epic Dream Of Desire demo from 1995, now given new life through the eyes and ears of decades of extreme doom songcraft and studio-work. After that look back, “The Forbidden Abysm” and the side-long “The Paling Crest” remind one how far Mournful Congregation have come, and yet remain as true to their original purpose as ever. Like the previous EP, artwork is once again handled by Karmazid, bringing the monadic into the dyadic. Thus perfecting the natural order of primordial principles…

And so concludes the dual-pillar compendium of devouring gloom and exaltation that is The Exuviae Of Gods. A balm to quiet the restless spirit as the world awaits the inevitable birth of the years-in-the-making sixth Mournful Congregation album.

Dedicated 21st Century polymath KAY Logan continues to expand her soundworld in every direction at once with her Helena Celle alias. A maximalist internal landscape of broken Jungle patterns, distorted synths and heavily warped instrumentation bent out of cognizance, If You Can’t Handle You At Your Worst, Then I Don’t Deserve Me At My Best is Logan’s most danceable, most fun and most gloriously congealed record to date. Conceived in part as a response to her 2016 debut release If I Can’t Handle Me At My Best, You Don’t Deserve You At Your Worst, 2023’s update employs similar principles (degrading technology, the joy of chance, an outsider’s gaze onto the dance floor, an embracing of the occult) to delirious effect. If I Can’t Handle was lo-fi and fragile in its technoid recasting of dance music, here Logan’s confidence allows a frantic playfulness that retains the spontaneity of all her output. It’s the work of a creative spirit reveling in the possibilities of sound, rhythm, texture and pattern. Helena Celle’s music opens up psychic space in front of the listener and invites them in. In this world, sounds and tropes once recognisable are rendered fractal, spectral and continually melting in and out of recognition. Simply put, Helena Celle might be detouring Drum & Bass, Techno and Breakbeat with a prankster’s grin but the result is pure ecstasy crushed into a part of the listener’s consciousness hitherto untroubled

A download code is included. ‘Neka Neka’ (on General Purpose) is the first solo release by multi-disciplinary artist, Ex Ponto (Ivan Mašic). Coming of age during the mid-90s Melbourne rave scene, Ivan was infected with music by the legendary Kate Bathgate on 3RRR community radio. Hearing music by the likes of Oliver Lieb, Will E Tell, HMC & and other producers of the time, an infection quickly turned into a music obsession that lives on today. In the following years Ivan would go on to manage one of Melbourne’s longest running record stores (Dixons Records) and in 2005 built a recording studio, aptly named The Womb. From 2005-15, he produced and played on over 20 albums for improvisation collective, Council of Elders and experimental, no-wave band, Wunderlust. ‘Neka Neka’ is a nod to ex-Yugoslavian experimentalists of the 80s (Rex Ilusivii, Kozmetika, Miha Kralj etc) and the thriving, late-night hedonism of Belgrade’s Club 20/44.

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.”

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.

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

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.

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.

The descent into darkness is a trope we find time again across history, literature and film. But there’s also an abyss above. There’s a winding white staircase that goes ever upward into the great unknown — each step, each turn, requiring a greater boldness and confidence than the one before. This is the journey on which we find Angel Olsen.

Olsen's artistic beginnings as a collaborator shifted seamlessly to her magnificent, cryptic-to-cosmic solo work, and then she formed bands to play her songs, and her stages and audiences grew exponentially. But all along, Olsen was more concerned with a different kind of path, and on her vulnerable, Big Mood new album, 'All Mirrors,' we can see her taking an introspective deep dive towards internal destinations and revelations. In the process of making this album, she found a new sound and voice, a blast of fury mixed with hard won self-acceptance.

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...

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...

Terreno Baldio is hailed as one of the leading progressive rock bands from the seventies in Brazil, from its surrealistic album art to its equally interesting music, translates the feeling of wasteland to an alternative world of beauty and complexity, achieving worldwide popularity over several essential albums lists. The homonymous work Terreno Baldio, released in 1976, was an active part of a whole scenario of youth suffering from strong political repression, representing in the song Grite (Scream) the desire of all Brazilian society that yearned to express its voice with freedom, being an impressive moment of collective catharsis in their live performances. Originating in Sao Paulo in the early 1970s, it released its debut album in 1976, recorded on 4 channels. Formed by Mozart Mello on guitars, Roberto Lazzarini on keys, Joao Ascençao on bass, Jô on drums and Joao Kurk (Fusa) on vocals and percussion. The band Terreno Baldio was born in 1974, when they got together in a group with the purpose of making progressive rock. Roberto Lazzarini was already playing with Joao Kurk and Joaquim in the Ilanders group, a dance band; Mozart Mello and Joao Ascensao joined there, having met on the recordings of Pete Dunaway's album. Everyone knew and liked King Crimson, Gentle Giant and Yes, wanting to make a more worked sound as a group, thus creating Terreno Baldio.

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."

All the rage and fear and uncertainty of recent times has been poured into the album's 11 tracks, resulting the rarest of rock'n'roll albums: one with a sense of purpose. But where the title song and anthemic first single Storm – which questions whether people are prepared for the aftershocks of both the pandemic and the government's high-level malfeasance – are both fuelled by a righteous sense of injustice, other bolder, emotions also shine through.

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.

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?

A creeping unpleasantness elevated by confidence... the clanging wallop of the Birthday Party, and the tongue-in-cheek swagger of Lubricated Goat.Party's over. Madison, Wisconsin's Sinking Suns have returned with Dark Days, their second album for Reptilian and third overall. The album title is an absolute indicator of what's to be found within: a creeping unpleasantness elevated by confidence and strut. This is not the spastic, bookish end of the noise rock spectrum, nor an over-distorted wallow in 90's kitsch, but an album of broad strokes and mature songwriting that cuts across genres - post-punk, post-hardcore, gritty rock, the clanging banging wallop of the Birthday Party and the tongue in cheek swagger of Lubricated Goat. It's a nod to something more enduring. There's a controlled swing to these nine songs. There's breathing space in the maelstrom. The drums aren't driving the songs off cliffs but cattle-prodding them forward. The bass isn't saturating every song with discolored thud but pushes a groove. Dark Days is not a sprint through fire, it's a long march to bloody victory chaperoned by Dennis Ponozzo's irreverent vocal snarl over haunting chord progressions and exquisite guitar figures. Sinking Suns really nailed it with this one. Their finest yet. This is the sound of men who've received the news of social collapse and are steeling themselves to tell the rest of us about the dark days ahead.

Recorded in three purpose-built private home studios - in Norway, Greece and Los Angeles - "Medicine" rubs Pop's obsession with Prince up against his love of Bolan, throws in a little Paul McCartney, some early Stooges, a chunk of Lindsey Buckingham and even a dash of Peter Gabriel for a record which channels bubblegum pop through Satanic ritual and classic rock for one of the oddest, funniest, most compellingly unique records you're likely to hear in 2012.

The dark and dreamy halftoned realism of Green/Blue comes into near-perfect focus across 'Paper Thin'. Ever the prolific recording duo, Jim Blaha and Annie Sparrows are back with their third album in as many years, following previous releases on HoZac and Slovenly. Their Minneapolis basement studio has yet again translated to tape what many in the post-punk realm often fail to realize - a certain icy-cool confidence. Chilling vocal harmonies resonate atop melodic guitar leads and a razor-sharp rhythm section as the album stretches to just under twenty-five minutes. Green/Blue evoke a certain somber and honest set of sonics, distilling the now and pondering the future as these ten tracks spin vibrantly at 45 RPM.

Inspired by the sparse and confessional qualities of Liz Phair’s early portastudio recordings, Corrinne James aka Naomi Alligator decided to create her own musical journal to share and process personal anecdotes. Her modern folk production and poetic songwriting links the sounds of artists like Joan Baez and Steeleye Span to a 21st century context. James wrestles with guilt, purpose, and jealousy through vivid narratives in the songs that make up her vast self-releases. This fall, five years since her first upload and over a dozen releases later, James will share her new four-track EP, Concession Stand Girl, while making her debut on Carpark.

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.

A thrillingly expansive synth-pop opus. Themes centre around the value of creative identity in an automated age, the increasingly disposable nature of art and where that leaves its creators. The group’s three-way vocal delivery and blurring of textures takes on new structure and purpose. Initially grouped in with the guitar psych crowd, thanks to their fledgling repeato-rock, Team Center were quick to disassociate themselves from that on 2018's mini-album Recital. With The Menace of Mechanical Music, they expand their sound further still, pirouetting from the likes of Sleeptype Auction – which glimmers like a late 80’s 4AD artefact – through various FX-laden dreamscapes, to squelchy post-punk.

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)

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.

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.

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.

In an era of music during which the urge to define and dissect new genres competes only with the desire to ruthlessly consolidate old ones, Gentle Heat is refreshing in their purpose and consistency. Too lush to be relegated to post-punk or indie rock, and more sonically visceral than contemporary shoegaze, the Chicago quintet defies easy categorization in a way that makes their evolution as exciting to watch as it is to hear. By pure force of volume, Gentle Heat creates a sound all their own driven by propulsive rhythms and dissonant melodies.



With their newest release Sheer, Gentle Heat reaffirms this commitment with surgical efficiency. Even the most formless sounds have purpose; ethereal soundscapes give way to humming, knotted feedback. The addition of vocalist/ keyboardist Sarah Clausen has enabled the project to dive deeper into the ambient aspects of their sound, blending the record into a knotted cohesive piece.



On Sheer, Gentle Heat pares down their formula to the point that every piece becomes essential and immediate even as they are weaving together layers of sound. According to guitarist/ vocalist David Algrim, “The idea for this project has always been to create sonically dense music viewed through the lens of pop structure. With Sheer, the goal was to refine that concept to its most concise form.” The result is a dynamic sound as likely to excite seasoned shoegaze listeners as it is to turn new heads in the back of the venue bar.



While the lineup has changed since the band’s inception, Gentle Heat has maintained a musical coherence through their four releases that affords the germination of new ideas and fresh sounds while remaining reverent to their past. The synthesis of experience and influences offered up on Sheer marks a big step forward for the group, and with it, a momentum that is proportional to the energy of their sound.

‘The Last of the 20th Century Girls’ is the storied second album from London-based artist Findlay - a full-fledged offering born of a personal journey that sees her at her most open, transparent, and introspective yet, drawing upon her own personal experiences since the release of full-length 2017 debut ‘Forgotten Pleasures’. With complex, fully-realised themes ranging from grief and loss to the struggle of losing and re-building one’s confidence, through to the challenges and pitfalls of the past couple of years, all serve to inspire a range of tracks across the album.

Mastered by five-time Grammy award winning engineer Antoine ‘Chab’ Chabert (Daft Punk, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Sebastien Tellier) and self-described as a “late coming of age story”, drenched in nostalgia, melancholy and the kind of strange experiences only a misunderstood millennial could have; the album effortlessly blends a diverse melting pot of breezy alt-indie, psychedelic pop, dreamy lo-fi chill, indie-rock and expansive cinematic sounds. It’s Findlay at her genre-melting finest, and a sharp, tasteful insight into her unique artistic psyche; a perfect representation of her impeccable alternative sound.

Today, London Born And Raised Artist Parris Announces His Much Anticipated Debut Album, Soaked In Indigo Moonlight. The Full Length Release Is Due Out On 19 November Via Can You Feel The Sun, The Label He Co-Founded With Berlin Based Producer And DJ, Call Super. Regarded In The Scene As A Slow-Burning Unique Talent, Parris' Discography Includes Releases Via The Trilogy Tapes, Wisdom Teeth, Idle Hands And Hemlock All Of Which Helped Him Carve Out His Own Distinctive Place Within The Contemporary Electronic Music Landscape. The Album Is A Sharp Piece Of Storytelling That Weaves Together Stripped-Down, Club Rooted Pop, Expansive Experiments In Rhythm And A Sense Of Air And Space That Allows Collaborations To Flourish. In A Eulogy To Friendship And Skateboarding, Eden Samara Turns Skater's World Into A Carefree Anthem. James K's Vocals Breathe A Frayed Hopefulness To Closer Falling In The Waves. Alongside These Two Rising Talents, Carmen Villian And Call Super Contribute With Symbiotic Visions That Underpin The Ideas And Spontaneity At The Heart Of The Record. It Is An Album That Is Difficult To Imagine Ever Coming From Anywhere But London Steeped, As It Is, In The Wilful Desire For Idiosyncrasy That Lies At The Heart Of The Best Of Uk Culture. As The Fog From Over A Year Of Lockdowns Lifts, This Talented Producer Is Stepping Out With His Most Impressive Body Of Work To Date And A Whole New Sense Of Direction And Purpose.