Adeline Hotel – Whodunnit

Ruination Record Co.

“There’s always a strange combination of continuity and change within a new album from Adeline Hotel. Each record building upon what came before it while often in some respects also turning away to chart new ground. As though the project exists as a kind of world of its own, and the function of each release is to bring us a view of a different corner. Adeline Hotel as a vast space we’re discovering album by album, song by song, with Dan Knishkowy not so much engineering the experience as leading the way. This exploratory spirit is central to Whodunnit […] an album following a tradition which lists the likes of Gillian Welch, Neil Young and Van Morrison among its practitioners. Songs as a form of stream of consciousness, not only in terms of lyrics but the very sound itself. The sense of having tapped into some wellspring of movement or momentum and choosing to lean into the flow.” [Review]

Advance Base – Horrible Occurrences

Run For Cover / Orindal Records

“For while the setting is entirely imaginary, the narratives and characters owe much to real life. Indeed the killer [of ‘The Year I Lived in Richmond’] is inspired by an analogous figure who stalked a place Advance Base‘s Own Ashworth once called home, fictionalised to create some sense of distance and decency. If Horrible Occurrences can be distilled into one reductive image, then that is perhaps the most enlightening. A receptacle into which bad memories and old stories can be poured. A small town diorama in which they can play out again, change shapes, take on lives of their own. One we might approach and watch over along with Ashworth, feeling tall from that perspective, relatively safe in the top-down view.” [Review]

Anne Malin – Strange Power!

Dear Life Records

Released in tandem book-length poem What Floods under the name AM Ringwalt, Anne Malin‘s Strange Power! is an album which explores “how nature and its inherent motion might possess the key to the process of healing in the aftermath of trauma and loss,” as we wrote earlier in the year. Something which possesses a palpable momentum yet no clear conclusion. In other hands, this lack of answers or endings might be held up as the tragic farce of existence, but here is positioned more like an opportunity. To continue asking questions both of yourself and your surroundings, as though the act of interrogation is its own strange power. A sign of a faith in something human and sublime.

Being Dead – EELS

Bayonet Records

“If you thought [previous release] When Horses Would Run was inventive, then just wait until you hear what is coming next. Because the new Being Dead full-length EELS […] takes everything that made its predecessor special and pushes it further. Travelling to Los Angeles for a fortnight of writing and recording with John Congleton, the pair pushed themselves to embrace the singular spirit of their work. The result is a record that’s more intense, more raucous and decidedly darker than anything which has come before, without sacrificing that mischievous persona.” [Review]

Ben Seretan – Allora

Tiny Engines

Described by Ben Seretan as his “insane Italy record,” Allora represents a snapshot from a very specific time and place. Or rather it would, should ‘snapshot’ come anywhere close to describing the scale, heft and sheer abundance of moving parts on show. Seretan and his band were due to play a wedding at the tail end of “a wonderful but lightly disastrous tour” of Europe during the summer of 2019, only for rain to half play and leave them in the lurch. But rather than waste the curious mix of energy and exhaustion that sets in at the end of a tour, they decided to make an album instead. A three-day stint at a farmhouse in the hills overlooking Venice with renowned mixing engineer, producer, musician Matt Bordin was arranged. A brief moment where a plethora of emotions were processed and purged through joyful noise. The result is unashamedly maximalist, entirely heartfelt, and in possession of that lightning-in-a-bottle feel that suggests it could never have materialised anywhere else. Catharsis has long been a key thread of Ben Seretan’s work, but rarely has it gone quite so hard.

The Big Easy – (It’s No Secret) The Truth As Bad As the View

Trash Casual Records

“It’s notable that The Big Easy’s latest album, (It’s No Secret) The Truth As Bad As The View, is the first to feature Berthomieux’s image on the cover. The first symbol on a record that looks to grapple with exactly how and why a person of colour might be made to feel an interloper within certain artistic circles. Berthomieux cites a James Baldwin statement as a key to realigning his perspective. ‘To be a Negro in this country,’ Baldwin wrote, ‘and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost all of the time.’ Suddenly what had for so long seemed like a personal hang-up or imposter syndrome was revealed to be an intrinsic part of the Black experience, and to connect his own emotions with a historic struggle proved liberating. Thus the album became an exercise in owning his identity and finally voicing those things kept buried for so long. ‘It’s No Secret is kind of like a journal,’ as Berthomieux concludes, ‘a place where I can express the things that I haven’t been able to say out loud’.” [Review]

Brown Horse – Reservoir

Loose Music

“Call it distraction, call it despair / No matter what you call it you can feel it when it’s there.” These lines from the track ‘Bloodstain’ encapsulate the presiding mood of Brown Horse’s Reservoir. A sense of unease which permeates their alt-country style like something “drifted on the low tide,” as the song continues. Something that’s now “hell bent for to stay.” This disquiet is evoked not only in images of stark estuary mudflats and cold fields but also polycotton shirts and soulless expanses of megastores. In the nostalgic melancholy of opener ‘Stealing Horses’, or the Molina-esque lyricism of songs like ‘Sunfisher’ and ‘Outtakes’ with their burning houses, hummingbird hearts and singing birds. And like all the best Gothic atmosphere, it is not entirely clear whether the sensation is a haunting from some ancient thing or a dark harbinger of what is to come.

Cara Beth Satalino – Little Green

Worried Songs

“The success of Little Green is in no small part a result of the nuanced nature of Cara Beth Satalino’s approach. Early on you come to appreciate her uncanny ability to combine deep soul-searching with offhand observations and gentle humour, inventive imagery and smart turns of phrase creating something rich and full of life despite the surrounding turmoil. [A record] soft and fragile as a little green shoot but with a spark of energy too, a desire to keep on. It might be too dark to see what is in front of you, but the earth is still turning and the bright star is still burning. There is time yet to grow towards the light.” [Review]

Cassandra Jenkins – My Light, My Destroyer

Dead Oceans

Cassandra Jenkins intended to step away from music after her 2021 album An Overview on Phenomenal Nature, only for the album to resonant so deeply with audiences she found herself newly (and perhaps reluctantly) energised, pulled back towards the urge to create. My Light, My Destroyer is what emerged a few years later, a record which not so much builds upon its predecessor as explodes out in every direction. Sophistipop, jazz and New Age elements lift Jenkins’s indie rock sound to almost orchestral territory, while layers of found sounds and field recordings anchor the otherwise celestial style in the lived-in world. This duality between the grounded and the elevated is typical of the tone, where encroaching darkness is matched by a curiosity and attentiveness to wonder. The world is beautiful, the world is burning, and both of these facts are made more urgent by the other.

The Chairman Dances – Evening Song

Self-Released

“Originating as a narrative poem, The Chairman Dances‘ new album Evening Song traces the early days of a nascent relationship,” we wrote back in September. “A seminarian and a drummer mutually enamoured with one another, caught in the heady space of attraction and mystery, hungry to learn everything there is to know about the other.” Working from this point of intersection, Eric Krewson and co. bring the pair of characters to life, providing small glimpses into moments both special and seemingly mundane to achieve a strikingly intimate sense of humanity. As with much of The Chairman Dances’ catalogue, the beauty is in the detail. The hollow knock of shoes, the wail of an oven’s timer, the catch of a lock. Small confessions shared between two people daring to allow their lives to become enmeshed.

The Dead Tongues – Body of Light / I Am a Cloud

Psychic Hotline

Not content with releasing just one record this year, Ryan Gustafson’s The Dead Tongues put out two simultaneously. The albums, published as standalone digital releases but brought together in a double LP, display both aspects of the Asheville, North Carolina songwriter’s oeuvre. I Am A Cloud is an exercise is meandering cosmic Americana, what Gustafson calls “a fever dream of song and spoken-word about the toggle between identity and ephemerality,” while Body of Light sees things solidify into discrete folk rock songs. Joined by a stellar cast of collaborators and a sense of improvisational freedom, it’s the most expensive and ambitious Dead Tongues release to date.

Deerlady – Greatest Hits

Self-Released

Described as “a collection of songs about intimacy,” Greatest Hits sees Mali Obomsawin and Magdalena Abrego unite as Deerlady to conjure soundscapes simultaneously stark, tender and thunderous. Both Obomsawin and Abrego have backgrounds in jazz, and though some of the genre’s fluidity carries through, the Deerlady project exists outside of that sphere and the expectations it carries. Rather, Greatest Hits offers an indie rock style free to be more elemental and raw, one attuned to ideas of softness and hope within a hostile and violent world. As if in the face of colonial cruelty, sound might fill the gaps where words cannot suffice. “Brick and concrete / two hundred thousand years buried beneath / while the stars witnessed the unholy,” as Obomsawin, who is from the Abenaki First Nation at Odanak, sings on ‘Masterpieces’. “Well I take it in / I wrestle with the language to begin / I didn’t come to make a speech, I came to live.”

Desert Liminal – Black Ocean

Whited Sepulchre Records

“Released in 2021, Desert Liminal‘s Glass Fate found the Chicago band “settling into a higher form,” as we put it at the time, with violinist and noise artist Mallory Linehan (AKA Chelsea Bridge) joining Sarah Jane Quillin and Rob Logan to elevate their trademark dreamy aesthetic. [Black Ocean] in many ways represents a continuation of this process. With the outfit now cemented as a trio, Linehan joins Quillin as a songwriter and vocalist, grounding the nascent sense of collaboration and connection which emerged on Glass Fate as a core facet of Desert Liminal. A development which is thematically resonant too, the record exploring ways in which death can be faced communally, and grief transmuted into something affirming and meaningful. Chicago’s DIY scene carried Quillin through the worst experiences, and Black Ocean looks to distil this experience into its purest form. The resulting songs often seem like love letters to the people in these communities. Those figures who stood next to you through the best and worst of times.” [Review]

Distant Reader – Place of Words Now Gone

Lily Tapes & Discs

“No news in weeks from outside town,” announces Emmerich Anklam at the beginning of the latest Distant Reader album, Place of Words Now Gone, thrusting the listener into a world suddenly quiet along with his bewildered characters. “Who left me in the center of this desolation?” one such person asks, “Who’s hearing me talk? Does it matter at all? Is anyone still out there? And who can tell the difference between the end and the beginning?” The record took seed in Anklam’s brain during long train rides through the fabled American landscape, and although a clear work of fiction, it’s hard not to see reality in the community it describes—abandoned by those beyond it’s boundaries, succumbing to helplessness as they lose what little agency were ever afforded them. A portrait of an isolated and dislocated America where those left behind are left to struggle and mourn as a deepening silence floods the places they call home. “And everybody she knows goes quiet trying to forget about the ways they could diminish still,” as Emmerich sings on ‘From High Remove’, “the spiral closing in around all of them. Words vanish fold in on themselves, questions halved quartered eighthed. Absence of sound infects all who feel it. Tones, phrases returning to the ether.”

Emily Hines – These Days

Self-Released

“I don’t know about you, but I’m holding out hope.” So sings Emily Hines on ‘UFO’, a single which embodies the tone of her full-length These Days. As warm and soft as a blanket to wrap around yourself in the cold winter months, but with a sharp pang of something else too, a bittersweet bite more potent than the frost at the window. The entire album is an understated gem, full of quiet and wistful songs about difficult relationships, questions unanswered or unanswerable, hoping for something more. On ‘UFO’ this ranges from a desire to know the truth about the Roswell landings to wishing for the sublime reckoning of the Second Coming. But for all of its outlandish subject matter, the song, like These Days as a whole, is entirely straight with its underlying sentiment. There is still hope that wrongs can be righted, Hines insists. Things can change for the better.

Enumclaw – Home in Another Life

Run For Cover Records

Ever wondered what might happen if you were to cross the beams of don’t-give-a-shit slacker rock and confessional, emotionally intense emo? Home in Another Life, the latest album from Tacoma’s Enumclaw, is here to provide an answer. The record is unafraid of the largest themes, lead Aramis Johnson wrestles with everything from God, illness and death to self-doubt, relationships and sex, but does so with a sense of energy and swagger. As though faced with the tangle of life’s difficulties, Enumclaw make the conscious decision to charge headlong forwards, conscious of every possible branch and thorn but moving too purposefully to become ensnared in any one spot. Whether it be the denial of a difficult diagnosis in ‘Not Just Yet’ or the internalised shame of ‘I Still Feel Bad About Masturbation’, Home in Another Life takes emotions and experiences which so often feel unspeakable and shouts them aloud in an act of agency.

The Felice Brothers – Valley of Abandoned Songs

Million Stars / 15 Passenger

Since their inception in 2006, The Felice Brothers have established themselves as one of the premier acts of contemporary US folk rock, building a catalogue of urgent narratives and strange visions with enough depth to stand alongside their literary influences. “Poems and short stories packed with clever references and wry turns of phrase” as we wrote of 2021’s From Dreams to Dust. “A confrontation of the grim realities of our moment that nevertheless celebrates the fact of being alive.” As the title suggests, Valley of Abandoned Songs is a collection of tracks written throughout the project which never quite made it onto a record, but were nevertheless strong enough to convince Conor Oberst, no less, to set up a brand new label just to release them into the world. Single ‘Flowers By The Roadside’ is the perfect example of their ability to conjure entire lives and histories in the shortest of spaces.

Are you
High as Mr Albert was
When he drove the cross town bus
Straight into the sky
I’m just sitting in these flowers by the roadside
I’m not trying to flag a ride
Just happy watching the wide world go by

The Fourth Wall – Return Forever

DevilDuck Records

Kickstarted by a family story of a relative who left a child behind when emigrating to the United States, Return Forever by The Fourth Wall is “an album which,” as we put it in our review, “combs through the contradictions of the immigrant experience in order to voice feelings otherwise impossible to convey.” Delivered via a weighty brand of indie rock, the mood ranges from anger and confusion to catharsis and joy, and the result, as we continued, is “a mixture of hope, denial and genuine love which not only subverts expectations but confounds any attempt to properly reassess. As though some decisions can be so complicated, their impacts so profound, that the very physics of emotions are bent beyond their own laws.”

Gabriel Birnbaum – Patron Saint of Tireless Losers

Western Vinyl

“Gabriel Birnbaum has become increasingly interested in music’s narrative potential, and Patron Saint [of Tireless Losers] finds him at his most confident to date,” we wrote in June. An album where Birnbaum again evolves his sound and writing to present “vignettes which occupy the knife-edge between specificity and ambiguity, rewarding the return listener with layers of wry humour and naked human emotion.” Birnbaum introduces a diverse array of characters—young and old, male and female, lonely and in the throes of love—all troubled by the gap between their own views of the world and the evitable dawning reality. As though every person, be they nervous concert-goer or overeager prepper ostensibly ready for the end times, is at some point destined to realise the true, unforgiving nature of mortal existence.

h. pruz – No Glory

Mtn Laurel Recording Co.

Many albums exists within the giddy period of new beginnings, their creators emerging from a tumultuous period of suffering or drastic change with an almost epiphanic perspective. The bad thing is in the past now, life can show its light. But while h. pruz‘s latest album No Glory focuses its gaze on a variety of pivotal moments from the life of Hannah Pruzinsky—moments they withstood, survived, emerged from—and goes as far as to imagine the perfect life ahead, it refuses the temptation to bask in the transient warmth of such possibility. As though to present the experience of a newly hopeful present as something unmarked by regret or doubt is to fail to fully inhabit its complexities. “I keep seeing change,” as Pruzunsky sings on ‘I Keep Changing’. “Peel away the borders / Of things with weight like copper / Thought it was gold / Til it turned green / In the rain.”

Haley Heynderickx – Seed of a Seed

Mama Bird Recording Co.

In 2018, Haley Heynderickx released I Need To Start a Garden, an album “all about growth and the hope of new beginnings” we wrote, yet one which refused to “shy away from the necessary hard work that makes such growth possible.” Follow-up Seed of a Seed emerges from this process of emotional cultivation, Heynderickx learning how to continue and improve upon the previous album’s progress while coming to understand such things are rarely linear and never complete. Opening tracks ‘Gemini’ and ‘Foxglove’ are marked by a sense of urgency, seized by the haste of new growth, though by the second half the tempo levels out into something slower and more complex. A host of musicians support the trademark finger-picked style, creating a layered thicket, the Haley Heynderickx sound now a rich polyculture diverse and hardy enough to face whatever life might throw at it next.

Hatis Noit – Aura (Rework Series)

Erased Tapes

In 2022, Hatis Noit released Aura, a full-length album “which draws from the vast array of Noit’s influences from Japanese classical music Gagaku and operatic performers to Bulgarian and Gregorian chanting,” we wrote previously, “not to mention avant-garde experimentalists and pop vocal styles.” Aura has had a new lease of life in subsequent years, with a series of reworkings made in collaboration with an equally diverse set of artists. After the likes of William Basinski and Matthew Herbert in 2023, this year saw Noit enlist the talents of Laraaji, Preservation and Armand Hammer to push the already kaleidoscopic sound even further.

Holland Andrews – Answers

LEITER

“Back in 2021, Brooklyn-based composer, producer, vocalist, and clarinetist Holland Andrews released Wordless, the first of a series of EPs under their own name (having previously recorded as Like A Villain). Released with label LEITER, the record introduced a distinctively transportive sound. Led by voice and clarinet and processed through a variety of electronics, the compositions offered soundscapes in which the listener might lose themselves. Rich tapestries of colour and texture crafted with an almost cinematic attention to detail. Subsequent EPs Forgettings and Doubtless furthered the scope and intention of the style, exploring themes of healing and transcendence as Andrews’s genre-bending sensibilities solidified into a style of their own […] Now Holland Andrews has returned with Answers, the fourth and final EP of the series which feels like both the clearest realisation of their creative ideals and a continued, active resistance against genre conventions.” [Review]

Hour – Ease the Work

Dear Life Records

With a studio’s worth of equipment in tow, the ensemble Hour took a ferry to Peaks Island, Maine out of season, and spent a week holed up together in an old theatre to record their latest album, Ease the Work. The project boasts a diverse cast of musicians—lead Michael Cormier O’Leary (electric guitar, classical guitar, percussion) joined by Jason Calhoun (synth), Em Downing (violin), Matt Fox (viola), Elisabeth Fuchsia (violin) Peter Gill (bass), Lucas Knapp (radio effects, field recordings, piano), Evan McGonagill (cello), Peter McLaughlin (drums, percussion), Keith J. Nelson (bass clarinet, clarinet), Erika Nininger (piano, rhodes) and Abi Reimold (electric guitar)—each bringing their own instincts and sensibilities to the project’s lush instrumental arrangements. The intimacy of the recording process allowed each separate contribution to coalesce into harmony. “Challenging any clear distinction between composition and improvisation,” as we wrote earlier in the year, the resulting record “performs the same small miracle of the previous records, presenting the everyday in all its joy and melancholy, comfort and strangeness.”

I Saw the TV Glow soundtrack

A24 Music

“The danger of nostalgia is that it tends to confuse the actual home with the imaginary one,” Svetlana Boym wrote in her 2001 book, The Future of Nostalgia. “In extreme cases it can create a phantom homeland.” The warning is explored in Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow, a film with a decidedly complex relationship with nostalgia. It can be something to wrap yourself in, bond over, shelter beneath, yet with this retreat comes the risk of a detrimental stasis, where fondness for the past comes to eat up the present. The interrogation is furthered by the film’s soundtrack, where the likes of Caroline Polachek, Florist, Frances Quinlan, Sadurn and King Women tap into the unapologetically sentimental nineties aesthetic. But it is the very first track that is perhaps the most thematically resonant. Yeule‘s cover of ‘Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl’ is so distorted by glitchy imperfections it becomes something of a Baudrillardian simulacrum. A memory denatured by overhandling, unpegged from reality, a figment of the imagination which has come to replace the real.

Jahnah Camille – i tried to freeze light, but only remember a girl

Winspear

“The songs offer a picture of late adolescence in all of its bittersweet nuance, its introspective contemplation matched only by its bold confessional attitude.” That’s how we described i tried to freeze light, but only remember a girl, the debut EP of Birmingham, Alabama-based songwriter and musician  Jahnah Camille earlier this year. The release reaches for a number of genres with real confidence, be it the nineties alt-rock swagger of ‘flesh’ or the country twang of ‘roadkill’. “[But it is] the lyrics which really see the artist stand apart,” we continued. “Because Camille has a knack for combining emotion and self-awareness, offering songs entirely committed to the feelings being explored but never lacking a wry wrinkle to add that extra layer of personality.”

Jess Ribeiro – Summer of Love

Poison City Records

Written amid a period of intense instability, Summer of Love finds Jess Ribeiro negotiating the liminal space between hope and reality, confronting the past and possible futures alongside the present moment to find a way towards healing. Ribeiro chose to lean into the turmoil during the recording process, undeterred by the fact collaborators could only visit individually thanks to the pandemic restrictions, and many never made it to the studio at all. Yet together with Nick Huggins, she nonetheless enlisted the talents of Jim White (drums), Darcy McNulty (saxophone), Leah Senior (keys), James Seymour (bass), Davie Mudie (percussion) and Carrie Webster (violin and viola), guiding each musician according to the release’s spirit. The result is improvised and exploratory yet bound by the same sense of longing. That will to work through tumultuous times towards something more solid. The hope that chaos might resolve itself into a more hospitable state.

Josaleigh Pollett – In The Garden, By The Weeds

Self-Released

“An excavation of the present which inevitably tends pastward, tracing a presiding cynicism back to its roots in search of a cause.” That’s how we described Josaleigh Pollett‘s third album In The Garden, By The Weeds. At first, the imagery of the title resonates on a surface level, the Salt Lake City songwriter surveying the ecosystem of their life, assessing which parts to nurture, which to pluck or prune. But spend a minute with this collection of stark and glitchy songs and it becomes clear things are operating on a deeper level. For Pollett not only gives the weeds their due but the subterranean conditions too. Those places dark and elemental we so often pretend have no relation to us higher beings. Places perhaps inside of our lives or our selves we must reach down into if we are to make any real progress in cultivating the kind of environment we want to live in. Even if it means getting our hands dirty, scrunching our eyes and grasping blind.

Joy Guidry – AMEN

Whited Sepulchre Records

“In AMEN,” explained Joy Guidry of their most recent album, “there is a lot experimentation with different forms of Black American music. I wanted to lean heavily on my Texas, Louisiana and Creole roots in this project. There were many days spent with my ancestors during the writing of this album and I’m eternally grateful for the music they sang to me during our time together.” The record saw the basoonist and composer develop their sound with the newly prominent influence of gospel and spiritual jazz, combining the sensibilities of church music with jazz invention to create something fundamentally devotional. “The result is at once communal and singular,” as we put it in our review. “Joy Guidry as realised in their most complete form to date.”

K. Freund – Trash Can Lamb

Soda Gong

We’ve been following the work of Akron, Ohio’s Keith Freund for the better part of two decades, originally with Trouble Books, then as one half of the experimental/neoclassical duo Lejsovka & Freund, and more recently with Lemon Quartet and Aqueduct Ensemble. Following 2022’s Hunter on the Wing, Trash Can Lamb is Freund’s latest release under his own name, and offers another exercise in minimal piano, degraded samples and an array of tactile electronics. It’s the neoclassical equivalent of the folk art eccentric, spinning singular homebrew beauty from a treehouse studio filled with strange gadgets and devices, at far remove from the polish and pretension of the auditorium, yet somehow deeper for it. Trash Can Lamb walks it own path straight to the heart of things, small moments and sensations that you couldn’t describe with words if you tried.

Kali Malone – All Life Long

Ideologic Organ

“Manages to suggest both academic rigour and unburdened instinct, but ultimately transcends any focus on its intentions as the listener becomes immersed in the soundscape. Some hymn or lament, latent with the suggestion of the sublime, be it total dread or transcendence, silence or all-encompassing sound.” So we wrote of Living Torch by Kali Malone back in 2022, though the description could be extended to much of the Stockholm-based composer’s work. Written for pipe organ, choir and brass quintet, latest release All Life Long possesses all the same clarity and depth, breathing new life into classical techniques to create something at once intimate and exalted. Not holy music, per say, but music which operates according to the same ends. Aiming to evoke those sensations felt in the face of things far greater than us, more mysterious, yet surrounding us all the same.

Keanu Nelson – Wilurarrakutu

Mississippi Records

Primarily a poet in his home of Papunya, northwest of Alice Springs, Keanu Nelson was inspired to start singing his work after meeting producer Yuta Matsumura in the local arts centre. The result is Wilurarrakutu, an album first released on Altered States Tapes last year, but put out to a wider audience back in August by Mississippi Records. With Casio beats programmed by Matsumura as support, Nelson delivers deeply personal poetry on themes of loneliness and family, home and loss, in both Papunya Luritja and English. Nelson incorporates reggae and gospel influences into a sound which emerges from an electronic sonic lineage that trails back to the likes of Suicide and Francis Bebey but represents its own singular style. One which aches with a sense of longing, the relative simplicity of the arrangements allowing the emotional depth of Nelson’s poetry to sit front and centre, blurring the classic and the contemporary into something genuinely moving.

Lia Kohl – Normal Sounds

Moon Glyph

“Able to evoke existence in all of its magic and mundanity.” That’s how we described the work of Chicago-based cellist, composer and multidisciplinary artist Lia Kohl back in July, describing her album Normal Sounds as “at once normal and very much not, or else it is extraordinarily normal—with Kohl turning her attention to the acoustics of everyday living and presenting them back to the listener as something as something new.” Existing somewhere between music and sound art, the record uses synths and cello (as well as occasional flute and electronics from Ka Baird and sax from Patrick Shiroishi) to accentuate field recordings of human-made sounds, reflecting our own world back to us in a new light. Here the incidental is elevated, each song a cacophony crafted from the sounds we so often ignore or phase out. Kohl isn’t so much crafting a soundscape for us to hear as rewiring our brains so that our attention might be heightened. What we encounter in such a state is sometimes playful, sometimes strange, occasionally unnerving and melancholic in the way the slow passage of life always is. The human world in granular detail. What it sounds like to live here and now.

Lindsay Reamer – Natural Science

Dear Life Records

“[Songs which] not only represent a study of a specific time and place—capturing a snapshot of environments both natural and human and the porous border between the two—but also a report on how it feels to exist within that period. As though Lindsay Reamer serves as our guide through contemporary America as she knows it. A squeezed no-man’s land between the past and the future. A place where great beauty and banality sit side by side, where old choices drag unforeseen consequences towards us and yet the smallest details still seem to hold life in all of its inscrutable charm.” [Review]

Little Kid – A Million Easy Payments

Orindal Records

“[The] ability to vary the focal length of its perspective so gracefully is a signature of A Million Easy Payments. “The urgency in Kenny Boothby’s voice matches the stakes of his lyrics,” writes Dan Wriggins in the liner notes [of Little Kid‘s latest album], “epic ballads and reveries that come at life from all angles and exposures, driving at and a little over the limits of self-reflection.” The sense of an artist never quite satisfied with the scene they have captured, always looking to widen the lens to better represent the truth before them, or else zoom in closer in search of the missing detail which might click everything else into place. Call it a search for meaning, or even God Himself. In other hands, songs reaching for such things with the expansive style of Dylan and Welch at their most ambitious might feel like novelty or pastiche. But in this context it seems the only logical outcome for Little Kid’s specific way of working.” [Review]

Lollise – i hit the water

Switch Hit Records

“Hailing from Francistown in Botswana and now based in New York, Lollise is an artist who draws from the entirety of her musical history when crafting her songs. Hence the sound of her debut full-length I hit the water owes a debt to the styles which soundtracked her childhood and early years—including Setswana and Kalanga folk songs, South African electronic bubblegum and kwaito from the eighties and nineties, Congolese soukous and Zimbabwean sungura—as well as genres like Afrobeat, art-pop and new wave which she immersed herself in after moving to the US. What results is a sound capable of evoking the future and past simultaneously, where traditional styles are repurposed to open new directions, and the line between history and imagination blurs into something entirely new.” [Review]

Mary Ocher – Your Guide to Revolution

Underground Institute

“To say Mary Ocher’s latest album Your Guide to Revolution is ambitious in its intentions is to risk understatement. A kaleidoscopic and politically charged collection of songs which draws on Ocher’s childhood (born in Moscow to Jewish-Ukrainian parents before emigrating to Tel Aviv during the Gulf War) as a way into wider themes of resistance and civil disobedience. A huge array of styles and influences are utilised across the record, both to evoke the gamut of emotions triggered within the contemporary struggle and to ground the release within a wider history of such subversive art. A central part of the album is a series of three tracks which rework pieces by harpist Dorothy Ashby based on the Rubaiyat of Omar Khyyam, a triptych of songs which Ocher has collected into a short film which echoes The Color of Pomegranates by Sergei Parajanov.” [Review]

Merce Lemon – Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wilds

Darling Recordings

“A collection of nine songs with dirt under their fingernails, equal parts wild and vulnerable as they reckon with the changing tides of love in all its guises […] Merce Lemon’s songwriting is often gentle, careful and sincere ruminations on love and solitude, but this underlying ferality is perhaps the record’s biggest strength, and the most obvious step forward from Moonth. A reminder the soft animal can still bear its teeth, a kind of wildness that turns heartfelt, mid-tempo folk rock songs into blown-out anthems, building towards crescendos of wailing guitar and pure feeling.” [Review]

Minor Moon – The Light Up Waltz

Ruination Record Co.

Minor Moon‘s latest album The Light-Up Waltz is set within “speculative world, where civilisation has collapsed and the characters are made to exist in the aftermath,” as we wrote earlier in the year. “But far from some desolate landscape of grim suffering, this post-civilisation society is one coloured by the invention and playfulness of its inhabitants. As though steely determination can only be maintained with a suitable accompaniment of joy.” This is a collection of songs working under such a logic, finding its characters proactive in their search for meaning, and perhaps finding it through that very mindset. “To me,” as lead Sam Cantor puts it, “the antidote to fatalistic disillusionment is a kind of complicated dance with dread, hope and joy.”

MJ Lenderman – Manning Fireworks

Anti- Records

It’s fair to say MJ Lenderman has come a long way since we shared ‘Gentleman Jack’ from his 2021 album, Ghost of Your Guitar Solo. Through his what we’ve described previously as “masterful knack for combining details small and absurd into something which feels like life as it’s lived on the ground,” the last coulpe of years has seen Lenderman take the leap into the indie stratosphere, and latest album Manning Fireworks makes good on this acclaim without sacrificing the sensibilities which got him there in the first place. Often wacky yet always unabashedly earnest, these are songs of a different sort of American mythology. Colourful, chintzy, most likely temporary. A place of waterparks and McDonalds lots. Pocket Bibles, drunk drivers, Disney Pixar deleted scenes. A place inhabited by people who were once babies and now jerks. People like you and me.

Mol Sullivan – GOOSE

Self-Released

A self-described “long exposure photograph” charting growth both artistic and personal, Mol Sullivan‘s GOOSE serves as a portrait of a person within the arc of great change. With songs written in the aftermath of a relationship and during a nascent sobriety, the album opens with Sullivan “set deep in those early days of a new beginning,” as we wrote, “where everything feels possible yet tenuous and a little too vivid to bear,” but does not stay constrained to the present moment. Instead, we find an artist moving forwards and looking back, reflecting on who they were and who they want to be, reaching beyond stories of love and addiction for a more nuanced picture of life. An artist in dialogue with themselves, teasing out those fundamental things which exist beyond what happens to us within any given moment, and thus repositioning change as a positive force we might harness to become ourselves more fully.

mui zyu – nothing or something to die for / cantonese tasting menu EP

Father/Daughter Records

Last year’s Rotten Bun for an Eggless Century saw Hong Kong British artist mui zyu delve deep within themselves in search of a better understanding of their own identity. The songs mapped a vast labyrinth of history and personal experience and located the elusive truth not locked in some remote central chamber but rather via the process itself. But if the introspective survey of Rotten Bun charted the complex contours of its own small world, follow up nothing or something to die for flips its gaze outwards to take on a far bigger challenge—the chaotic, conflicted place we call home. Here human society is painted as an overwhelming and fundamentally lonely place, where an omnipresent technological connection belies the isolation at its core. Floating over this absurd space, mui zyu looks for the points where the veil between us is the thinnest, hoping a better existence might be possible while refusing to ignore evidence to the contrary. There might be nothing, there might be something to die for, or perhaps both of these things can be true at once.

Nap Eyes – The Neon Gate

Paradise of Bachelors

Through a string of ambitious, philosophical and playful albums, Halifax outfit Nap Eyes have established themselves as one of the most inventive, thematically interesting bands in contemporary indie rock. Even by their standards, The Neon Gate pushes the envelope on what songs can be and explore. Fans will recognise Nigel Chapman’s distinctively deadpan vocals, but the Nap Eyes sound has expanded in various directions, shapeshifting between tracks and unafraid of the abstract and improvised. Weird tangents are followed, eldritch stories are told, what rules there were are broken. The result is to witness something familiar transmogrify, metastasise, expand and contract before your eyes, the recognisable slowly twisted strange into a new, surreal landscape. A style inspired, at least in part, by the William Butler Yeats poem ‘I See Phantoms of Hatred and of the Heart’s Fullness and of the Coming Emptiness’. A poem which is adapted as a song near the end of the album:

I climb to the tower-top and lean upon broken stone,
A mist that is like blown snow is sweeping over all,
Valley, river, and elms, under the light of a moon
That seems unlike itself, that seems unchangeable,
A glittering sword out of the east. A puff of wind
And those white glimmering fragments of the mist sweep by.
Frenzies bewilder, reveries perturb the mind;
Monstrous familiar images swim to the mind’s eye.

Prostitute – Attempted Martyr

Self-Released

The past year has been desperate, dizzying and ferociously cruel for many, and no release captured this reality better than Attempted Martyr by Prostitute. Described as being “written and recorded under duress of a world in turmoil” and “dedicated to Lebanon, from Dearborn with love,” the album sits somewhere between noise rock, post-punk and jazz. A collection of songs twisted tight with intensity, always threatening to spin out of control, fired by the depthless fury of grief and somehow managing an air of plaintive sorrow too. Beneath the delivery’s bark and bite lies a deceptively diverse range of moods and emotions—from the mournful opening title track and spittle-flecked defiance of ‘Judge’ to poetic meditations on justice and resistance and even a certain wry humour (Prostitute one-up fellow Michigan punks Protomartyr by devoting an entire song to celebrity attorney Joumana Kayrouz). A timely reminder of the fertile relationship between anger and compassion, and a scream into the face of a world gone numb.

Rosali – Bite Down

Merge Records

“Help me, darling, I can’t seem to bite down on it / I can’t seem to feel what’s real anymore.” So opens the title track of Rosali‘s Bite Down, giving voice to a sentiment which underpins the entire album. But this is not a record of desperate pleas and drifting disconnection, rather the antidote to such things. As though having been touched by these emotions, Rosali chose to be proactive, confronting life’s ups and downs with a newfound defiance, determined to feel reality in all its forms. The title refers to “something more extreme than leaning in,” as Rosali told Mariana Timony for Bandcamp. “I’m taking a bite. I’m accepting it. I’m chewing it.” Again recorded with the David Nance Band to blur the line between solo and group effort, the resulting album effortlessly straddles folk and classic rock styles and builds upon everything which made 2021’s No Medium so special.

Roswit – Eternal Living

Mono Tapes

The debut album from self-described “olde punks” Roswit has one foot in classic Pacific Northwest indie pop and another across the ocean in a Flying Nun Records style jangle, with some wiry, stripped-back punk thrown in for good measure. From infectious opener ‘Grape’s Song’, which calls to mind fellow Vancouverites The Courtney’s, to the sleeves-rolled-up scrappiness of ‘King’s Song’, every song is packed with a sense of DIY fun. And to top it all there’s a throwback vibe, not to bygone decades but right back to the Middle Ages, a candy-coloured fantasy land of knights and dragons and damsels in distress. This is sometimes achieved with subtle lyrical nods, and others musically, such as ‘Princess’s Song’ which sounds like a lo-fi punk take on a Medieval ballad. Eternal Loving is perhaps best summed up by ‘Dreamer’s Song’, which has it all—supremely catchy hooks, galloping percussion, oohing and aahing harmonies, flutters of flute and daydreams of ye olden days.

Shovel Dance Collective – The Shovel Dance

American Dreams

“We want to play and experiment, layer and move between different spaces in recording, and extend the limits of our instruments to sing and break in new ways,” explained Shovel Dance Collective of their experimental folk sound. “Improvising, textural playing, and moving as one free organic organism are all part of the experiments we try and make in form. It’s all towards this one goal: constructing the Shovel Dance world and saying what we feel needs saying.” Latest album The Shovel Dance saw the outfit “position themselves within an exciting contemporary movement,” as we wrote in our review, “and The Shovel Dance is sure to join the likes of Lankum’s False Lankum and Shane Parish’s Liverpool in their mission to push old sounds and stories into new dimensions.”

S. Raekwon – Steven

Father/Daughter Records

A moniker can offer many things for an artist, not least a sense of separation between their ‘real’ and performing selves, but while Steven Raekwon Reynolds released his latest record Steven under the name S. Raekwon, the album’s title is suggestive of the manner in which the songs work to close this gap in search of authenticity. Because this is a personal album in the most practical sense. Reynolds did all the writing, production, engineering and mixing, not to mention played every instrument with the exception of the drums. What emerged is a collection of songs which serves to illuminate the different parts of their curator, as though the record is a prism through which he shines himself, each track a different wavelength of his personality stratified according to mood. “Maybe subliminally or unconsciously, the songs kind of grouped together in a certain way to explore different areas of myself,” he explains. “The beginning is rage and angriness in a certain way. The middle is this uncertainty of questioning yourself, who you are, and if you’re a good person. And then at the end, I think it comes to a place of resolution. I’m just examining myself and trying to come to a better understanding of who I am.”

Sinai Vessel – I SING

Keeled Scales

In October, Caleb Cordes announced that Sinai Vessel, his moniker for the past fifteen years, had come to an end. “You have taught me everything and I’m taking it all with me,” he wrote in a statement of social media, looking forward to new, healthier future without the constant striving for further success and recognition in the cockfight that is the music industry. Released back in the summer before this news broke, the fourth Sinai Vessel album I SING represents both a parting gift from a project that has meant so much to so many, and a frank examination of the factors which grind artists down to the point of submission, taking on themes so often absent from art with a sincere yet unromantic air. “I sing for a reason,” Cordes sings on the title track. “My reason’s the same // as the nurses buying rentals
/ and rides to broadway
/ who fill up big bars on buses
/ and fall off shit-faced / and the trained men who clock in / coming back from smoke breaks
/ who zoom in from satellites
/ to bomb palisades.” Because I SING is an album about the rarest of things: money, or the lack thereof. How contemporary society seems built to punish anyone who dares attempt a living through art, and the ways in which the compulsion to create persists in ways both magical and mundane. “I sing ‘cos I wake up
/ again and again,” as the title track continues. “It never stops coming
/ it doesn’t make sense.” Sinai Vessel is dead, long live Caleb Cordes.

Slippers – So You Like Slippers

Lame-O Records

“It was childhood residence Atlanta that lit Madeleine BB’s creative fire. The city is home to the headquarters of Cartoon Network, which inspired not only her interest in animation, but indie rock too. ‘Cartoon Network… was a big part of my life growing up,’ she says. ‘They always had a lot of indie bands in the fold there—I remember there was this Powerpuff Girls music compilation that had Devo and Apples in Stereo and Shonen Knife on it. My dad bought that for me and I just became obsessed with it.’ Many of the tracks on [Slippers‘] So You Like Slippers? are a product of this kind of cross pollination, either inspired by or written specifically for BB’s animations. ‘I was trying to make these jokey kid’s songs, sort of like They Might Be Giants, to go along with my animations,’ she describes, and it’s clear this visual starting point provided a sense of creative freedom. License to write quickly and without inhibition, and the ability to explore themes and feelings that could be painstakingly overwrought with charming ease.” [Review]

Tasha – All This and So Much More

Bayonet Records

“Finds an artist embracing the pace and breadth of their new life. Confronting each day with a sense of defiance rather than looking for somewhere to hide.” So we wrote of Tasha‘s All This and So Much More in a preview back in the summer, an album written amid a flurry of experiences that ran the gamut between agonising (unexpected grief, an abrupt separation) and amazing (a role in the Tony-nominated Broadway musical Illinoise). Where many might have sought some form of retreat from life’s constant barrage of change, the Chicago artist instead decided to lean into the momentum to embrace the potential of forward motion. “I’m overcome at the wonder around me,” she sings on the quasi-title track ‘So Much More’. “I fill my lungs, feel the air rush inside me / Could this be fun? Could I be happy?” The album works through the doubt of such questions with decisiveness, choosing to believe that the impossible might be true, life a joyous experience after all. “What if my hope didn’t have a ceiling? / What I want most, all I imagined / What if I chose to settle for nothing less than magic?”

Trace Mountains – Into the Burning Blue

Lame-O Records

Glance at the title of Trace Mountains‘ latest album Into the Burning Blue and you’d be forgiven for expecting a descent into something deep and dark, an assumption only strengthened by opener ‘In a Dream’. “A dispatch from whatever stage of capitalism we’re calling contemporary America as delivered from a breathless nighttime bike ride,” as we wrote of the track back in the summer. “The effect is passing through a dark passage full of eerie shadow without quite knowing if there’s an exit at the other end.” Yet rather than barrelling down towards some nadir, the track’s glittering eighties rock sensibilities manage to invert the arc, the climax instead finding Dave Benton breaching the surface into a wider world. Which isn’t to say the rest of Into the Burning Blue is bright and affirming, it is after all a record concerning the end and aftermath of a long-term relationship, rather that the shades of blue on offer are far more nuanced and diverse than you might at first expect. A picture of person moving through conflict and loss attuned to all the accompanying tones that come with it, and one delivered with all the widescreen confidence of Petty or Springsteen to boot.

villagerrr – Tear Your Heart Out

Darling Recordings

Zeroing in on life’s small, ostensibly ordinary moments to find the meaning within, villagerrr‘s latest album Tear Your Heart Out sees Mark Allen Scott embrace his Midwestern roots for a country-inflected brand of indie rock. Chillicothe, Ohio might have felt constrictive growing up, but home is home and soon a sense of fondness began to blossom, and with it came a desire to acknowledge the fact. “I want to wear where I’m from and my family on my sleeve,” Scott explains. “I’m proud of the twangy influence in my music from corny country songs I’d hear on the bus rides to school. I feel like I’m reclaiming where I come from and making it my own.” The result is a decidedly empathetic collection of songs able to zoom close to the smallest details of small town life, be it light through a sunroof, the smell of cut grass or pencil drawings made in an effort to preserve memories. Some of the tracks are tortured in their own quiet way (“Falling in and out of trust / With the ones you loved before,” as he sings on ‘Cry On’, “It’s not the way I hoped it would be / Oh, no”), some wryly funny (“I see you wearing your Carhartt jeans / Talking ’bout how you don’t got money,” is a refrain in ‘Car Heat’), but all are wrapped in a sense of understanding, as though villagerrr attempts to see through the tangle of emotions to see the fallible humans struggling underneath.

Waxahatchee – Tigers Blood

Anti- Records

When released in 2020, Waxahatchee‘s fifth full-length Saint Cloud felt like the pinnacle of the project, Katie Crutchfield pivots towards an alt-country aesthetic so seamless and fitting it appeared to be some form of completion. Only for Tigers Blood to roll around a few years later, an album which sees the Waxahatchee star rise even further. Unfazed by recent popularity, Crutchfield and co. resisted all the trappings of success and temptations to transcend into the mainstream to instead focus on the present. There are no synths on Tigers Blood. No cinematic pop flourishes. No indication of burning through a newly weighty budget. Which is to say, the album finds Crutchfield not so much dreaming of what Waxahatchee could become, but instead concentrating on exactly what it is. The result is full of heart, romance and hard-won authenticity that could only stem from a place of confidence. Waxahatchee might have found its final form, but you sense this is only its beginning.

Wendy Eisenberg – Viewfinder

American Dreams

“When Wendy Eisenberg finally got Lasik surgery after a lifelong struggle against an assortment of ocular and vision-based afflictions, the resulting impact went far deeper than they perhaps expected […] Viewfinder emerges from within this new experience of the world, reckoning with exactly what it means to see and not to see, and how beauty and meaning are inherent within both experiences […] How does our understanding of the physical world change according to our ability to visually perceive it? And what about other planes—the emotional, spiritual and metaphysical?” [Review]

West of Roan – Queen of Eyes

Spinster

“A god of doorways and portals, a god of seeing in the dark and in dreams, a saint of weeping in sorrow or in joy.” That’s how Laurel Premo, writing in the album notes, describes the titular figure of West of Roan‘s latest record Queen of Eyes. The guide which leads Annie Schermer and Channing Showalter deep into a realm of myth, archetype and imagery, some otherworld beneath our own which bears the load of all that has been before and will surely arrive in time. A place where both personal, historical and cultural trauma unwinds itself as story. When we say West of Roan is a project steeped in the folk tradition, we mean it in a fundamental sense beyond any musical style. That urge to communicate, console, explain or contextualise. To take on the largest of themes in the ways humans always have. The result isn’t so much ambiguous as multifaceted. Stark, beguiling, full of glory and grief. As mysterious as the Queen herself, demanding you submit to its forces to discover the transcendence within.

Why Bonnie – Wish On The Bone

Fire Talk

“How do we live authentically within a world which demands we perform and pretend? Is it possible to confront the true dismal nature of things and still retain a sense of hope? Such questions have weighed on [Blair] Howerton since previous Why Bonnie album 90 in November, not least because she felt she had evolved beyond the wistful country-inflected style those songs presented. “I’ve changed since that album, and I trust that I’ll probably continue to change,” as Howerton explains. Wish On The Bone looks to pinpoint who she is at this point in time without committing to any lasting identity. To possess the confidence to work beyond the expectations of preconception and present however feels right within the current moment. Hence an album which foregoes easy pigeonholing in terms of style, unified instead by the defiant new self-confidence which underpins it. “You owe it to the people who are experiencing the worst to just keep pushing,” as Howerton concludes. “These songs were written out of hope for a better future. I’m not naïve, the world is fucked up, but I think you can radically accept that while still believing it’s possible to change things.” [Review]

Wild Pink – Dulling the Horns

Fire Talk

If recent years have seen Wild Pink’s star rise, then Dulling the Horns could be said to see it begin its arc back earthward, returning not to obscurity but a gravity-saddled weight and heft, the loud rush of the atmosphere roaring in its ears. Recorded live with all the grit and raw energy of the band’s live show left intact, it feels like both a throwback to their early work and a new chapter entirely, losing the wide-screen scope and sparkling electronics in favour of something with a little less polish.  “I didn’t want to clean up anymore,” says lead John Ross. “In doing so we’ve arrived at a new place.” Thematically it leaps around, touching on everything from Dracula and Michael Jordan to the Waco siege and Lefty Ruggiero, and this willingness to reach wide and chase tangents only furthers the sense of immediacy, resulting in the most urgent Wild Pink album to date.

Wishy – Triple Seven

Winspear

Released hot on the heels of December 2023’s successful EP Paradise, Wishy‘s debut full-length Triple Seven seemed to confirm suspicions the Indiana outfit possess the magic Midas touch, a spontaneous jackpot on first pull of the lever which included an NME cover among other such acclaim. And though the journey to that recognition was far more convoluted in reality, something about this iteration, led by songwriters Kevin Krauter and Nina Pitchkites, possesses an undeniable lightning-in-a-bottle charm. A sound which “pays homage to forebears […] while fashioning the nineties-nostalgic sound into something entirely their own,” as we put it, combining dream pop, shoegaze and indie rock influences into something as polished as it is fun.

Young Jesus – The Fool

Saddle Creek

“The pressures of touring had seen the original Young Jesus band slowly disintegrate, and the mosaic pop of Shepherd Head demanded hours spent alone in front of a computer. Exhausted and disillusioned by the process, Rossiter pined for something less abstract. A way to express his creativity rooted in the real world. So he turned to gardening, studying permaculture and the slow process of nurturing it demands. Only then came a chance encounter with Shahzad Ismaily, originating in a shared interest in the work of Milford Graves, and a slow process of coaxing. Rossiter would work on music then tend Ismaily’s New York garden between sessions. At home in LA, he did the reverse, planting trees and laying paths with Alex Babbitt and Alex Lappin before gathering around the piano to play and sing. Slowly the compulsion to make music returned, though now informed by the lessons learnt whilst working on the natural world. The resulting album The Fool feels like another milestone for Young Jesus. A continuation of the searching style which has so long marked the project, but one armed with a new array of tools and techniques to perhaps arrive closer to a satisfying end.” [Review]

The post Year in Review: 2024 appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Latest single ‘I Could See It Coming’ pulls the audience into the heart of the album’s speculative world, where civilisation has collapsed and the characters are made to exist in the aftermath. But far from some desolate landscape of grim suffering, this post-civilisation society is one coloured by the invention and playfulness of its inhabitants. As though steely determination can only be maintained with a suitable accompaniment of joy. “This song—and this whole record, really—is about someone attempting to make a meaningful life in a treacherous, broken world that won’t stop shifting and unfolding,” Cantor explains. “To me, the antidote to fatalistic disillusionment is a kind of complicated dance with dread, hope and joy.”

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Perhaps best known as a founding member of legendary left-field hip hop act Anti-Pop Consortium, Beans has been making abstract and poetic rap music since the mid nineties. His latest release is ZWAARD comes out next month, a collaboration with Finnish producer Sasu Ripatti (aka Vladislav Delay and Luomo) that sees a fusion of the pair’s singular and uncompromising styles. Latest single ‘ZWAARD 2’ is a great introduction, Beans hitting his formidable flow over Ripatti’s plinky and ramshackle backdrop which has all the homebrew complexity of a Rube Goldberg machine.

ZWAARD will be released on 13th March and is available to order via the Beans Bandcamp page.

Casters – Lines In The Sand

We last wrote about Casters back in 2023, describing how single ‘Memory’ saw Andrew Strader and a rotating cast of musicians create “a dreamy drift that marbles fondness and regret into sound so rich you could suspend yourself within it.” Latest single ‘Lines in the Sand’, again released via  Like You Mean It Records, sees Casters invoke a trip from Santa Fe to Great Sand Dunes National Park to weave another rich soundscape, this time coupled with a sweeping wistfulness fit for the vast environment in which the first seeds of the track took hold.

‘Lines In The Sand’ is out now via Like You Mean It Records.

 Dinah – Winter Black Lake (Stripped)

Released at the end of last week, Dinah! is the almost self-titled sixth album from Toronto‘s Dinah (FKA Dinah Thorpe). It’s comprised of 17 short sharp jabs of raw emotion, possessing a tactility that you can almost feel sock you around the head. This is thanks in no small part to Dinah’s distinctive voice, full of smoky feeling and tender physicality. Much of the album is made up of restrained electronic pop songs, but my favourite is ‘Winter Black Lake (Stripped)’, a reworking of an early track that comes towards the end. Here, the staccato, mechanical rhythms of the original give way to clear air, allowing the vulnerable side of Dinah’s music to flow in and fill the space.

Dinah! is out now and available from the Dinah Bandcamp page.

Kaycie Satterfield – Jetsam

Following debut EP Sweet Tooth and last year’s single ‘Dog Year’, LA-based songwriter Kaycie Satterfield is back with a new single, ‘Jetsam’. Released via Earth Libraries, the song is at once dreamy and punchy, shifting from bendy elastic guitar and peppy percussion to a soaring, shimmering chorus. Satterfield says it’s a track “for the girls. Specifically, the girls who always stay a little messy, who could never quite get their hair to fall neat.” A duality which shows up in the very sound itself as it shifts from attitude to sweetness and back again, refusing to settle into any tidy box.

I hope somebody on this airplane’s talking to God because
I lost touch, it would be impolite
to show up asking favors after all this time

Minor Moon – Under Beyond

“Well they found us / We were fresh off the bridge / With strange new lives / Oh! and in strangers tongues / They sang a new sound into our minds.” So sings Sam Cantor of Minor Moon on ‘Under Beyond’, the latest single from upcoming album The Light Up Waltz on Ruination Record Co. The title refers to a fictional band who tour the bleak landscape at the end of the world, and the song paints the act in a mythic light as a wider comment on the strange magic of being on tour. “Most of the time, for me at least, traveling around playing music tends to be comically unglamorous and humbling,” Cantor explains, “but within that experience there can be a feeling of intense, private freedom, like you’ve tapped into some collective secret that allows you to transcend the mundane. There’s something endlessly romantic about all of that to me, even if it’s kind of untethered to reality.”

Rose Brokenshire – Habit To Help

Canadian songwriter Rose Brokenshire makes warm and gentle music that is suffused with kindness and patience. Drawing on folk and dream pop, her songs convey powerful messages of healing and self-belief in a whisper rather than a shout. Latest single ‘Habit To Help’ is no different. “This song is about learning to be there for yourself in difficult times,” Brokenshire describes, “the way it is easy to be there for your friends.” The track unfurls with a hushed intimacy, though beneath the hazy croon lies something firmer and fierce. As though under the surface sits an unyielding conviction in the value of empathy, even if we sometimes need to run our hands over it in order to remind ourselves of its presence.

Could you tell me again
what you felt when I said
it would get easier
I know I said it myself
It’s just a habit to help
a friend feel better

Rose Hotel – Not Like That

A Pawn Surrender, the forthcoming album by Rose Hotel (Atlanta songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Jordan Reynolds) on Strolling Bones Records, is an album concerned with relationships in all of their guises. Across the ten tracks which combine folk and indie rock with psych sensibilities, Reynolds considers romantic, platonic and even environmental relations, not to mention the relationship one holds with their own internal self. Single ‘Not Like That’ explores the dissolution of a friendship in a way which attempts to make personal opinions clear while acknowledging the other person’s feelings too. “I’m calling them on their bullshit, but also trying to have empathy for how hard it is for them to see it themselves,” Reynolds explains. “Wishing they could be honest with themselves and the people who love them about who they really are, but knowing that they don’t have the capacity to do so.”

 Scott Lippitt X Josaleigh Pollett – Is This a Good Time?

Across a series of albums and EPs, Salt Lake City‘s Scott Lippitt has made a name with a bittersweet brand indie pop, combining bright sincerity with pensive reflection to produce songs which possess tangible feeling. Upcoming album Me, You, and the Avenues sees Lippitt evolve this style with the help of a whole host of other musicians, with each of the twelve songs a collaboration with a Utah-based artist. The likes of Rachael Jenkins, Yuccas and Maren Gayle are involved, but single ‘Is This a Good Time?’ is the turn of Josaleigh Pollett, whose stellar album In the Garden, By The Weeds won our attention last year with what we described as “an excavation of the present which inevitably tends pastward, tracing a presiding cynicism back to its roots in search of a cause.” The combination is a strong one, with Pollett’s talent for nuanced emotion the perfect foil for Lippitt’s own heartfelt style.

Shaina Hayes – Kindergarten Heart

Following advance singles ‘New Favorite’ and ‘Sun and Time’, which we said “combine whimsy and serious emotion,”  Montreal songwriter Shaina Hayes has released her second album, Kindergarten Heart via Bonsound. As its title suggests, the record explores life’s ups and downs with childlike wonder, its fresh and vibrant sound a reminder that one need not grow cynical and world-weary with age. This message is delivered most directly on the title track, a song of soft piano and bubbling acoustic guitar which captures childhood’s fizzy sense of curiosity and excitement. Its message is clear, these feelings and ways of approaching the world can and should be preserved into adulthood, and in fact are one of the few true paths to meaning and joy.

Sparkle. Sunny days. I get older
In every way that won’t matter
Kindergarten heart in me
Magic. Green and blue. I am wilder
In every way that I choose

Kindergarten Heart is out now via Bonsound. Get it from the Shaina Hayes Bandcamp page.

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With a new full-length on the horizon, Minor Moon has this month returned with a new single ‘Miriam Underwater’ on Ruination Records, and the song is a further development of this intention. A song fleet-footed and fluid, living up to its title in the manner in which its liquid rhythm ripples and flows. Jason Ashworth (bass, percussion), Max Subar (pedal steel), Chet Zenor (guitar), Sam Subar (drum kit, percussion),  V.V. Lightbody (vocals), Dustin Laurenzi (tenor saxophone) and Hunter Diamond (clarinet) help bring the sound to life, landing on an infectious psych-inflected style which seems informed by the halfway fantastical lyrics it holds. The tale of a narrator cut off from his shapeshifting lover by the alluring depths of the sea.

Miriam, Miriam
Miriam underwater
Rippling, shimmering
Miriam underwater
I know you love me and you know I cannot follow
There’s something nothing but the water can give
Missing you, Miriam
Miriam underwater

Miriam Underwater b​/​w Ice Fishing is out now and available from the Minor Moon Bandcamp page.

Original cover artwork by Jordan Martins

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The latest Minor Moon record, Tethers, expands this idea to the length of an album. A joint release between Ruination Record Co. and Whatever’s Clever, it tones down some of the ambition within each song, instead favouring a larger interconnected narrative that unfolds across the entire record. This involves a version of the classic quest that’s based within a psych-tinged science fiction setting which blurs the boundary between fantastic, mythic and realist worlds, Cantor’s way to explore the meaning and consequence of personal turmoil he faced while working on the album. “Minor Moon songs have always had this arc of discovery and I’ve always used them as a way to dive into really personal, philosophical, or emotional problems,” says Cantor. “It’s about finding some truth looking inward.”

But unlike the traditional quest, the narrator of Tethers does not find some magical object, nor return home with answers. Rather, the journey’s discovery is that sometimes questions are themselves the answer, that this kind of journey never really ends. The lasting impression of the record is the sense of epiphany suspended. Deferred until some undesignated future. There’s a sense of dawning realisation that the journey is not some line from A to B, but rather one segment of a more perpetual motion. A constant progression that is always unfolding. “I said I’m feeling caught in a loop at the end,” Cantor sings on ‘The First Time You Left Home’. “But it’s just the beginning / Well, how about that?”

We took the opportunity to speak with Cantor to delve a little deeper into Tethers, and the Minor Moon project as a whole.

Tethers seems like an album of two worlds. On the one hand, there’s the down to earth ‘realism’ present in earnest vocals, the Midwestern twang, but then this far stranger, almost science fiction dimension that phases in and out of the songs. Is this setting unique to this record, a kind of rule or constraint that marks Tethers out from your other work? Or just a further step more generally into a free-flowing, explorative style?

Tethers has a much more cohesive album-length concept than anything I’ve written before. The songs on previous records were often referencing each other and diving into common themes, but each track really stood on its own. I would often write these big songs that contained their own complete arc with thematic tension and resolution. I discovered that trying to do so much within the span of a single song wasn’t working for me when I was writing for this record. I don’t think that kind of tension-resolution blueprint resonated with me, and neither did a head-on, more confessional approach to writing about difficult experiences. So it had to come from storytelling. I was reading a lot of fiction with fantasy or sci-fi elements, and I read this book by Italo Calvino called Invisible Cities that just blew my mind open. I started to play around with this interdimensional adventure narrative structure for Tethers that anchored the writing and allowed me to dive further into each portion of the narrator’s journey, and that pushed me to deepen the meaning of the story itself.

Meanwhile, with all of that layered storytelling going on in the lyrics, I really wanted to make this record inviting to anyone listening for the first time. I think the music I love the most has both an immediate and layered quality. It was a big area of growth for me as a songwriter and producer to work harder to actively invite the listener in rather than just say what I had to say. And I learned how to do this better mostly by playing lots of live shows. When we started introducing these songs into our set in 2019, people were responding with a lot of excitement, and we wanted to make sure to capture that vibrancy and energy on the record.

‘No Lightning Fix’ is said to be something of a thesis statement for the record, so could you expand a little on that? There’s the sense of an almost classic quest unfolding, moving on from the chaos of opener ‘Ground’, only the exact aim or destination is left unclear. There is no neat conclusion, and much of the imagery and symbols remain opaque. But if your previous record felt conflicted and disorientated within such conditions, the mindset seems to have shifted here.

Well, the narrator finds themselves in a landscape of endless flatness (“the tiled plane”), and in the verses, travels to and then down into a fountain that is a gateway to an abyss, towards a “silvery door” that inexplicably holds some kind of secret they are searching for. Meanwhile, the chorus moves to a more general tone, describing how memory and past experience are constantly shaping us, “rattling” within us, and making it difficult to understand who we are. The chorus hints that perhaps there is some kind of deeper answer among all of that chaotic debris, something that you’ve known all along (“a cloud of smoke you’ve seen before”). This lyric is actually a reference to a Yom Kippur sermon I heard last year describing The Ark in the Hebrew bible. It’s said to have been filled with incense, clouded in smoke in order to protect the high priest from direct exposure to the sacred.

From a literary and spiritual perspective, I was taken with that image, and how it correlates to the limits of self-knowledge. In the record, the narrator will eventually reach beyond the “silvery door,” and encounter that cloud of smoke (see: Obvious Blessing) and be cast back out into the mundane world (see: So Quiet / Was There Anything Else) with everything the same and no great clarifying epiphany (The First Time You Left Home). In other words, there is “no lightning fix,” even when you’ve seen the center.

I think that accepting this lack of any great epiphany is crucial to experiencing life as it is. We can better access beauty, pain, love, loss more clearly and honestly when we shed the anxiety that we are missing the big secret or that it’s within our power to really know “The Way” forward. Instead we feel, we learn, we change and become, we try to be good to each other and hopefully we grow; we will never really know what we’re doing but we try anyway and there’s meaning and beauty in that very act of affirmation.

Could we drill a little deeper into some individual lines? From ‘No Lightning Fix’: “I dipped my feet inside / Like Rome back in ’45 / Violence and history / Have no boundary / In this light.” This caught my eye, because until this point I’d been thinking of the record as representation of a personal present, but this throws us backwards, and widens the scope considerably beyond the personal relationship underpinning the record.

Well… this one is a little hard for me to explain in a coherent way but I’ll try. The line was inspired by this big WWII monument in DC we walked through while on tour in summer of 2018. It’s a big fountain / pool and invites visitors to literally dip their feet in. It was apparently inspired by this moment right at the end of the war when Allied soldiers were partying and celebrating by bathing in the fountains across the city.

Later on I kept writing about this imaginary fountain (not the one in DC), I’m honestly not exactly sure why but the image kept popping into my head when I’d write—and the fountain ended up becoming this portal between various dimensions in my weird story. And I imagined this place, this tiled plane, outside of space and time. That tiled plane is a very personal place, but there is a philosophical element to it. The idea is inspired by this concept from Walter Benjamin of messianic time—which I’ll do a bad job of explaining in a sentence, but essentially it’s his notion that revolutionary possibility can be thought of as this timeless potential, it can exist both within and somehow irrespective of a given historical moment. On the record I’m not directly referencing messianic time per se, but in this story the narrator is inhabiting a space that has that flavor. And so you have the narrator in this tiled plane desert, dipping their feet into a fountain, stating that there is no boundary between this fountain dip in the weird cosmic desert and the fountain dip in some other completely foreign historical moment on earth (“Rome back in ’45”)—this is a part of what it means to live in history. Everything is connected, sometimes in surprisingly immediate ways, and there’s the potential for danger or for peace all of the time. So this song is in a personal world, but the conclusions aren’t confined to that world. And it’s no coincidence that the narrator, upon making that uneasy and confusing statement, gets sucked away from that contemplative space and into this other chapter in the journey—I think that kind of 10,000 ft view awareness is really hard to maintain. It’s certainly hard for me to explain, and I’ve done a mediocre and incomplete job here, but I do think it’s a really important moment on the record and I’m glad you asked about it.

Those lines are followed by the idea of “a thick, unending ocean / A million holes,” and such subterranean imagery continues into the next tracks. From the first lines there’s this danger of the ground cracking, of falling somewhere dark and deep. Could you talk a little about this idea of being underground?

All of this underground imagery on Tethers has two main qualities, and they kind of contradict each other. The first is depressive, nihilistic, hopeless; the second is excavation, exploration, searching for truth. I experienced this intense period of my life when these forces were really battling each other, and what both of them had in common was an inward pull. ‘The underground’ is that inward pull—towards liberatory self-knowledge but also potentially towards destructive isolation. There’s danger and darkness there, but also a really necessary and powerful journey going on.

There’s a line right at the end of the penultimate track which resonated. “What do we talk about / When we talk about freedom?” This seems like a good time to discuss the title too, and how the idea of being tethered is juxtaposed against the linear narrative of the protagonist’s experiences.

Well, I think freedom is something I’ve continually reshaped my understanding of over the years. That’s still ongoing. One of the implicit conclusions of Tethers (for me) is that we can and should seek freedom, but that it will never be some cosmically clean break from what we feel is binding us. As long as we are alive, we are always going to be constrained and influenced by our past, our attachments, love, loss, joy, culture, language, history etc. We’re tethered creatures and we’re all stuck in a big web, but we can still find freedom in the way we inhabit the tangled mess. With all of that in mind, I think one form of freedom is simply being willing and able to ask the question knowing that there may not be a final answer.

Tethers is out now via Ruination Record Co. and Whatever’s Clever and you can get it from the Minor Moon Bandcamp page.

Art and design by Benedict Kupstas

The post Minor Moon – Tethers appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Tracklist:

Field Medic – henna tattoo
Leggy – Taffy
Myshiuno – Turf War In Chinatown, SF
Press Club – Suburbia
Shady Bug – Make it Up
Calicoco – Anchor Park
LUNCH – Forget Everything
krissanthemum – Honesty Hour
Wy – Pavements
UV Rays – Flowerhead
Fanclub – Stranger
Jeffrey Silverstein – Easy Rider
Ryan Dugré – Tonight
Okay Embrace – Phantom Text
Samia – Lasting Friend
community college – karaoke
runnner – eggshell
Fields of Heaven – Song of Loss
Minor Moon – Hold Me Up (Liar)
Lampland – You Little Liar
Westkust – Swebeach
kate can wait – licantropía
Bleeder – Rusted and Raw
Laveda – Dream Sleep
Pass/Ages – As It Rises
Yuri Tománek – In the end, we all fade away
Tender Glue – Dear Peri
Red Wedding – Bones
Women Tied to Railroad Tracks – Endless Carpet
Eyesore & the Jinx – On An Island
Bellows – What Can I Tell You About the World?
Merival – Sinner
Vassals – Lil Anvil
The This – The Strangest Ritual
Breakup Films – You Said You Hate Not Seeing Me
The Phone Booth – Healthcare
Seamstress – Everything
Zelma Stone – Light Bulb Boy
Charlotte Cornfield – Andrew
Wicketkeeper – Night Night (Whatever)
a. harlana – faces
Lady Dan – What Sanity
Tesha – Funeral

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The Minor Moon signature is their ability to take these influences and bend them into unexpected forms, swerving from the path well-trodden to create something very much their own. “I have always been a sucker for songs with big dynamic shifts and weird, unexpected structures,” Cantor tells Glide Magazine. “It can be easy for me to want to push and twist every Minor Moon tune into an epic journey, but that can sometimes get in the way of what’s best for the song.”

The record begins with a perfect example of this. ‘Hold Me Up (Liar)’ sees a languid, loungey atmosphere give way to graceful harmonies and sincere lyrics, punctuated with sudden stops and shifts, periods of just stark guitar and near silence. The band say that the song “paints a series of impressionistic images that explore how a person experiences their sense of self as time passes,” and aims to explore the notion that “throughout our lives we actually live many lives and say goodbye to ourselves many times.”

‘Sacrificial Animal’ hits another vibe altogether, the gliding harmonies held together with bluesy barroom folk rock a la Dr Dog. But, as we’ve come to expect with Minor Moon, the song is more than a simple good time jam. Instead, Cantor explores his Jewish heritage, confronting spirituality and secularism head-on, landing on the confused no man’s land that is the twenty first century where both poles come with exhausting baggage. “Maybe I feel betrayed,” he sings, “by the holy and the profane / Both will burn me out either way.”

‘Out Into Where You Are’ feels classic and classy, a slow dance in soft lit ballroom at the heart of a sparkling black city, while ‘It’s Okay’ finds Cantor on a remarkably normal day, distracting himself from existential anxieties by browsing products in a supermarket, casting himself in an imaginary TV show. These kind of ruminations form an important strand of the album, and represent another way that Minor Moon anchor their folk rock in the contemporary moment. An Opening is an album about “becoming, affirmation, disorientation, chaos, and calm,” Cantor tells Atwood Magazine, “it’s about being the container of more than you can bear alone.”

The theme is picked up on ‘New Blood (Dark, Dark, Dark)’, presenting a world that’s advancing faster than we can adapt to it. The voice is sad and wistful, as though some intrinsic human thing is being bartered away with the convenient automation of society, though there’s defiance too, new life rising to face the inhuman future with the same joy and curiosity as ever.

If ‘I’ve Known You For a While’ is a refusal to let go, then ‘The Mark’ is a more considered approach, stripping things back to guitar and Cantor’s voice, lap steel and piano just ephemeral adornments before horns blare in triumphant chorus. The transformation is complete perhaps by the record’s paradoxically-titled closer ‘An Opening (Parting Song)’. The song is one last grand and patient folk rock song that winds and glides with real feeling, and by its end the inconsistency of the title works itself out, learning that conclusions can be introductions of a sort too, breaks in the ways of things that allow new possibilities in.

An opening
At the faultlines in this dream
This is a parting song I’ll sing again

An Opening is out now via Ruination Record Co. and Midwest Action and you can get it from the Minor Moon Bandcamp page.

The post Minor Moon – An Opening appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Tracklisting:

Dear Nora – White Fur
Lawn – 2000 Boy
Pearl Crush – True Blue
Dead Painters – Fool On Fire
Slowcoaches – Found Down
Two Meters – Left Behind
Kerem Atalay – Winter 2
Pat Moon – I Belong
Blood Hype – Not Too Good
Talons’ – Driving Home From Shows
The Nova Darlings – I Like Crashing My Car (Into Yours)
Dead Sullivan – Swallow
Onlyness – Comfortable
Of the Valley – Italy
Nice Knees – Backout
Suburban Pets – Candy
Minor Moon – It’s Okay
Caroline Lazar – Georgia
Heatwarmer – American Dog
Jacob Furr – Life Comes At You Fast
Deux Trois – Dave
Grace Turner – Dead or Alive
Britton Patrick Morgan – Southern Drawl

The post June 2018 Roundup appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Of The Valley – Italy

Of The Valley is the recording project of Canadian-born, Copenhagen-based songwriter Brian DellaValle. Ahead of a debut full-length that is set for release soon, DellaValle is currently releasing stand-alone singles, beginning with ‘Quiet and Curious’ back in March. The track was a good introduction to the Of The Valley style, a slow, sad and atmospheric brand of folk which supports DellaValle’s affecting baritone vocals.

His latest single, ‘Italy’ follows a similar pattern, wrapped in warm melancholy that brings to mind a later-era Mark Kozelek. Thematically, the track charts a relationship and its slow evolution across time, change as a shaping force, capable of builing and destroying in equal measure. As the press release describes:

“Italy is a voyeuristic slice into a moment between two people. Beauty in such situations can certainly be found between those two, but also between the lines. When something important comes apart, it takes courage and time to find if you can build it back again.”

Slowcoaches – Found Down

London’s pop punk trio Slowcoaches have been putting out tunes as ferocious as they are catchy for a good while now, with 2016’s album Nothing Gives followed by a series of singles. The latest of which, ‘Found Down’, is the lead track from a new two-song release on Sonic Unyon Records. A boisterous, squally listen, the track races around the throaty vocals of Heather Perkins, demanding you join in with the hollered chorus. “on the dirty ground, I gotta grow up, grow up,” she shouts, “you say you want to be around, you never show up, show up.” However, the words are secondary to the sheer energy and attitude bursting from their delivery in cathartic release, a furious shedding of all of life’s soul-destroyingly banal frustrations in a two-and-a-half-minute storm.

The Found Down 7″ is out on the 30th June via Sonic Unyon Records and you can pre-order it from the Slowcoaches Bandcamp page, including on vinyl.

Minor Moon – It’s Okay

We first wrote about Sam Cantor’s Minor Moon back in 2016 when we covered A Whisper, A Shout, an album we described as “fuelled by the insistent dread of self-doubt and bad feeling to [become] something keenly honest and cathartic, yet always coloured with wry self-referential lines about that very process.” This was followed by an EP What Our Enemies Know, and now Cantor and co. are back with ‘It’s Okay’, a brand new single ahead of a future full-length album.

Don’t let first impressions deceive you. The instrumentation of ‘It’s Okay’ is something of a Trojan horse, housing a keen existential anxiety that flourishes in the lyrics. Therefore, while the sound evokes a timeless rock vibe, the themes of the track are actually far more contemporary, detailing the sense of alienation and dread that comes with the creeping ubiquity of technology and mass media. The song sees something of a fight back against this, preaching the idea that any form of resistance and human connection is valuable, and any attempt to be okay is at least some way closer to realising the wish. As Cantor explains: “I can be very cynical and take a dark view of things, but that cynicism is rooted so much in a desire for hope and for a better world.”

You can grab ‘It’s Okay’ from the Minor Moon Bandcamp page, along with the previous releases.

Caroline Lazar – Georgia

Caroline Lazar is a songwriter from outside Atlanta, so new single ‘Georgia’ is aptly named. The track is the first taste of a new EP to be released on My Little Empire Records, and shows off Lazar’s melancholic mix of bedroom pop and folk. The basis of the track is a languorous flow, a slow summer heat that ripples the vocals into a sedated, less immediate form of heartbreak. But heartbreak this track is, detailing a lost love and conflicted hopes of its return. “Why am I hoping that you might be holding someone else?” Lazar laments, “need a better reason to replace your picture on my shelf.”

Caroline Lazar’s EP is to be released soon via My Little Empire Records, so keep an eye on Bandcamp for further news.

Heatwarmer – Here Comes The Band

Heatwarmer are three piece from Seattle, Washington, who put out their latest album, Here Comes The Band last autumn. The record layers rich retro-pop with tongue-in-cheek humour, something like Mike Pace and the Child Actors taken to the next level of irony. ‘American Dog’ is the prime example, a smooth backwards-looking love ballad, though the focus of this emotion is not a beautiful woman or dark and handsome man, but a small, canine US national. Yes, really. The chorus makes it pretty clear:

“Oh oh oh oh my god
I didn’t know I’d feel this way about a little dog

American dog, American dog
I fell in love with an American dog
Good God, I fell in love with an American dog”

Here Comes The Band is out now and you can get it from the Heatwarmer Bandcamp page.

The Nova Darlings – I Like Crashing My Car (Into Yours)

Hailing from Los Angeles, The Nova Darlings are a garage rock four-piece described by their bio as “equal parts violent and tender.” Their sound draws upon influences from either side of the millennium, mixing the 90s guitar of Built to Spill and 00s vibes akin to The Shins with a more contemporary bedroom pop aesthetic that brings to mind The Washboard Abs. As a result, they manage to live up the the bio’s promise, capable of earnest emotion and ramshackle rocking within the very same track.

Since their EP Songs for Felix back in March, the band have been putting out a series of singles. The latest of which, ‘I Like Crashing My Car (Into Yours)’ is the perfect example of the sound we describe above, the tenderness of the vocals juxtaposing with the violence of the title and lyrics, and the carefree rhythm of the instrumentation managing to serve both.

You can grab ‘I Like Crashing My Car (Into Yours)’, as well as the other singles, from The Nova Darlings Bandcamp page.

Jacob Furr – Life Comes At You Fast

We’ve written about Texan songwriter Jacob Furr a few times in the past, first in 2014 upon the release of his debut album Trails & Traces, and then again in 2017 in a belated review of his sophomore record Sierra Madre. The conclusion of the latter post functions as a neat summation of what Furr’s music is all about: “Hope doesn’t have to be a sentimental act or retreat from reality, rather a considered and consistent refusal to give in. [Furr] finds strength in weathering storms, and, what’s more, wants to share that notion with you too.”

Last month saw the release of a brand new single, ‘Life Comes At You Fast’, and again a similar sense runs through the track. The nostalgic Americana sound is the ideal medium to capture the wistful attitude, and the whole thing is dressed in fondness too, as though any sense of melancholy is not so much regret but rather a reminder to feel.

“Running like a river through your dreams
down into the ocean, where nothing is as it seems.
And you watch the seasons change, you listen to the rain,
see the wind that’s tied up in the trees.

And you know just how that feels
Wishing you were free”

‘Life Comes At You Fast’ is available now from the Jacob Furr Bandcamp page, along with his previous releases.

Deux Trois – Dave

Working out of Kingston, Ontario, Deux Trois is something of a Canadian super group, featuring Nadia Pacey (Konig) Benjamin Nelson (PS I Love You) and Ben Webb (Carvings). Ahead of a new eight-song release, Health, the three-piece have been unveiling some singles to get the anticipation up. Following on from the hypnotic and salacious ‘Late Night Girls’, latest song ‘Dave’ moves on to unrequited love and the invisibility it casts over its suffers. The song has something of a dual perspective, the present pining for the titular Dave, but also one positioned ahead of the moment, looking back, free from the clutches of the once consuming conviction of love.

“Dave, I feel like an infant
Dave, just tell me I’m human
you look so sad but didn’t age that bad
drop the glass and struggle hard but
it’s all gone to waste.

At the time I was just a kid
you said you loved me but you never did”

Health will be released on the 8th June in a variety of formats, so keep an eye on the Deux Trois Bandcamp page.

Grace Turner – Dead or Alive

Utilising elements of folk, rock and country, Australian musician Grace Turner crafts songs at once energetic and emotional, the charged sound allowing her to delve into intimate and honest personal difficulties without ever coming off as trite or overwrought.

Latest single ‘Dead or Alive’ is a case in point, the persistent momentum of the drums leading Turner into a haunting exploration of internal suffering and the comfort that human connection can bring in the face of such turmoil. “The lyrics in the chorus are literally transcribed from [a] conversation,” Turner explains. “[A friend] called and said, ‘I didn’t know if you’d be dead or alive’. The whole song was written in about an hour after the phone call.”

“That was so sweet just the other night
You called me just to see if I was alright
You said you didn’t know if i’d be dead or alive
You said you worry so much about me sometimes”

‘Dead or Alive’ is out now and you can snag it at the Grace Turner Bandcamp page.

Britton Patrick Morgan – Southern Drawl

Britton Patrick Morgan is a multi-instrumentalist based in Kentucky who has recently put out his debut album, High Lonesome Throne. The record is rooted in the folk traditions, with Morgan using a 1947 Gibson LG2 parlour guitar to evoke a timeless quality to his sound, despite loving his Huss & Dalton guitar enough to give it the name Jane. “Instruments,” he explains, “much like people, have their own distinct personalities.”

‘Southern Drawl’ is a great welcome into this warm and wistful world, a song drawn forth from an age old existence in the American south, where the landscape colours the essence of life and a kind of patient longing seeps into the fabric of things. Fittingly, the song is pitched somewhere between plaintive and hopeful, a kind and compassionate word into the air in the hope that others might hear.

“I’d try to catch you if you had a fall
nobody’s perfect, we’re all flawed
If you ever need me you can call
And I’ll always love you
with a southern drawl.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYc45eO2pFw

High Lonesome Throne is out now and you can get it from iTunes.

You can find all of the previous instalments of Bright Sparks here, and be sure to check back in a few weeks to see what makes the next edition.

The post Bright Sparks: Vol. 13 appeared first on Various Small Flames.

With her debut full length Gruñona, Olive unpicks the knots and tangles that have developed through her life, both retracing steps and forging ahead to discover something closer to her authentic self. With Andres Fonseca, Ivan Pyzow, Sam Cantor and Sean Saville joining to form a full band, the record calls into question reductive racial/cultural stereotypes, and thereby challenges what Chimamanda Adichie calls the “danger of the single story.”

Fittingly, such a task requires a multitude of moods and attitudes. ‘The Architect’ is self-critical to the point of anger, a scathing attack not so much on herself but rather the flat narratives she allowed herself subscription, thus doubling up as a plea for freedom. “My fear hooked my arm,” Olive sings, “stole me from where I come / left me for dead, oh, please / I just get up and leave.” However, with such reflection comes the space for healing, the closing refrain of “I mistook my loneliness for bravery” sounding like an admission with cathartic power, and other tracks follow this more generous attitude.

This is best highlighted on opener ‘Marte’, a brooding track that hides a deep seam of forgiveness. “You suffer like it’s nothing,” sings Olive, “And I suffer like it’s nothing / And I take it on the chin / I take it on the chin / every time.” This is not some triumphant epiphany where a hard, true sense of identity is formed, but to concede that one’s self requires generosity as well as criticism feels like a healthy realisation, and one more robust and long-lasting than any bright white revelation. We, as people, cannot be reduced to single features or ideas, and self-interrogation allows not only an appreciation of one’s own nuance, but also a greater empathy and understanding when considering that of others.

Gruñona is a journey without a clear destination, a question without an answer. An attempt to map identity not to achieve some clear-cut conclusion but rather in the hope of better understanding how history and culture and personal beliefs shape the people we are and were, the people we will be.

We’re delighted to share the record in it’s entirety ahead of its release on the 18th August, so click below and dive in.

Album artwork by Izzy Olive, photograph on player by Maren Celest

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