When not playing with Nopes, several members of the band also release under the name, you guessed it, Yups. April’s Man on the Moon Man on the Moon highlighted a sound which dials down some of the aggression and menace in favour of a joyous garage rock aesthetic. If Nopes take the base mix of DIY spirit and loud noise and add an ominous edge, then Yups leans toward the celebratory power pop end of the spectrum, excising the dark in order to embrace the jubilant energy.

But why settle for two bands when you can have three? Slotting itself into an ambivalent middle ground, Meh finds Petralia and co. push their noise rock sensibilities through the prism of jangle rock, ending up closer to Teenage Fan Club, Guided By Voices and Yo La Tengo. Released in 2017 with the good people at Reflective Tapes, the EP Firsts showed off this new dimension,  maintaining the lo-fi authenticity of Nopes and Yups while adding a nostalgic breeziness to lighten the mix. If the other two projects speak to instinctive, black and white emotions then Meh favours a more indirect approach, muddying the water with a bittersweet and reflective air.

Meh have again teamed up with Reflective Tapes for their first full-length album, Red Kite Crane. The title track premiered over at Post-Trash last week, who described how a “serious folk vibe” and “a touch of twang” pokes out from beneath “the layer of dense guitar fuzz in a way that recalls early Sebadoh.” As such, the track exists at the intersection of rough and smooth, refusing to lean closer to one or the other and keeping the tone conflicted.

Today we’re delighted to share the second single, ‘Stalemate’, the above sensibility is consolidated. From the sparkling opening notes to the vocals buried within the track’s lo-fi textures, the track is carved from a nostalgic air, neither positive nor negative but both at once, any fondness tempered by the lurking knowledge of time’s constant march. Therefore, if Nopes and Yups deal in immediacy, Meh concerns its self with emotions repressed and deferred—the the hoping, the backwards looking, the longing for things that have been, or might be no more.

The post Meh – Stalemate appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Tender Perennial specializes in gentle lo-fi pop songs, just guitar and Giannini’s voice, recorded DIY at home without a mic stand, just a borrowed 4-track and the help of a friend. Short Songs About Longing is just as the title suggests, five quietly earnest songs about pining for people and places. But as the project’s name suggests, there’s another side to this vulnerability, persisting through whatever life throws like a small but hardy perennial plant.

Opener ‘oops I did it again’ feels like a little wistful daydream of a song, Giannini playing subtle guitar as they sing “feeling pretty listless and uninspired, looking for a break in my routine.” But not every song is coloured by this ennui. While ‘appetency’ may sound soft and sad, it’s actually a pretty happy song, a tender recollection of connection in the springtime. “drag me out of this house, tell me anything you please,” gianni sings, “daffodils are pushing up the wet leaves”

‘Silience’ is perhaps the song on which the sense of longing is approached most directly, full of reminiscence about a friend who has moved away, in body if not in mind, Giannini waiting for an opportunity to reveal their true feelings.

I will wait for my chance and I will take it
to tell you how, how I feel about you now

Closer ‘Delivered’ is the EP’s longest track by quite some distance, but doesn’t break the hush of the other songs. Even the guitar sounds muffled to a whisper as Giannini describes getting “quiet” as they watch the twinkling lights of Portland, driving home the message of Tender Perennial: you don’t need to shout to say something important.

Short Songs About Longing is out now and you can get it on Reflective Tapes or via the Tender Perennial Bandcamp page.

The post Tender Perennial – Short Songs About Longing appeared first on Various Small Flames.

The tape comprises of six songs about “mental illness, isolation, recovery” which Pogue wrote in a period of self-imposed exile between November 2017 and April 2018. However, the sound is more nuanced than its genesis might suggest, finding room for a lot of fun despite being a product of such conditions. The tape’s sound is therefore hard to pin, as summed up by the description provided by Reflective Tapes: “confessional solo pop, driving pop-punk ragers, mid-tempo GBV-inspired jams, and much more.”

Opener ‘tell’ definitely falls into the solo confessional pop bracket, a Told Slant-style rickety bedroom pop song that’s all subdued vocals and gentle guitar, offset occasionally by makeshift percussion and glitchy electronics. “You sat underneath cherry tree, next to eddies of trash in the street,” Pogue sings in a contemplative tone, “can I beat this thing that’s in my head? / memories are my best friends.”

‘Unsure’ could almost be a different band altogether, a hectic indie rocker that sees Pogue’s vocals swept along with breakneck guitar and pummeled drums, proof that Perfume V does fun catharsis just as well as earnest introspection. From the squall rises ‘perfume home movies’, a gloriously lo-fi pop punk number that traces a turbulent period through a purging carefree energy. It has a little of everything, sensitive sentiment and full-on blown-out joy, especially in the yell-a-long chorus.

if i could tell the truth just once
i’m 28 years old and i’m coming undone
sold my car, moved back in with mom
phoned you up to talk
you’re gonna miss that cat when’s gone

‘negative smiths’ is a blown-out rocker, all squealing feedback and mumbled vocals, while ‘best baby’ is pretty and sincere. Though even this earnestness is countered with another dimension, with Pogue describing the track, perhaps not quite as sincerely, in a different light. “I just say ‘you’re the best baby around here, i’ll see you when i’m near’ a bunch of times,” he explains, “and then some disney-ass flutes come on.”

The sentiment is indicative of the perfume v style, where both sides of the coin are presented together, with neither judged as more valuable or meaningful. This is cemented by the time closer ‘kerby editions’ rolls in, sparkling with fragility and strength. From the opening image of a sunrise to the pulsing punk finale, it’s a song that’s still sore from memories but hints at new growth. “Rip it up, start again,” Pogue sings with equal parts hope and morbidness, “remember what it’s like to be brand new, what it’s like to die.”

You can get Moments Like This Never Last now on cassette via Reflective Tapes, or as a download from the Perfume V Bandcamp page.

The post Perfume V – Moments Like This Never Last appeared first on Various Small Flames.

‘Can You See Me Now?’ kicks things off with a scrappy, punky energy and vocals that have the lo-fi zeal of Dogbreth. ‘Bathing in Bad Love’ is another intravenous hit of super fun punk, guitar flailing and chugging in a multitude of patterns across the barely two minute run time. At times it sounds like a slice of classic punk, and others like runaway rock ‘n roll, even at one point threatening to go country.

‘All For Nothing’ is reminiscent of the livelier moments on the early LVL UP releases, mumbly vocals dragged from apathy by the sheer momentum of the instrumentation. It’s a love song, but one I can get behind, full of existential dread despite its carefree pace. But, despite all that, it manages to wear its heart on its sleeve too, something the chorus can attest to.

“We just want someone to be there
so it’s not all for nothing”

Things don’t ease up on ‘They’re Taking You Away’, another infectious and gloriously messy power pop song, before closer ‘Tactical Bite’ delays with bedbugs and the “power struggle” of love. Unsurprisingly, it’s short and sweet and lots of fun, and just begs you to hit that repeat button again and again.

You can get Demo via Reflective Tapes, or on a name-your-price download from the T.V.U. Bandcamp page.

The post T.V.U. – Demo appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Placid Lake is an album based around themes of grief, mourning and self-doubt, adopting an earnest, vulnerable tone that aims for sincerity and honest connection. The songs serve not only as a personal process of grieving but also a communal invitation to the listener to do likewise. Through this, remembrance and longing are wrought into something altogether more joyful, memories and emotions used in a celebration of life, and those now gone but not forgotten. After first single ‘Your Eyes‘ introduced the Bombshell Nightlight sound, we’re happy to be able to share the second single, ‘Death Day’, which picks up many of these themes directly. As the label describes:

The song deals with celebrating the death day anniversary of a loved one who has passed, and the emotions of grief that come with it. Specifically, Cardiello sings about the loss of his father when he was a child and the years of processing and grief that have accompanied that loss.

The video, directed by Marshall Granger, supports this. Shot at the the location of Cardiello’s recording, the film brings to life the simplicity and natural beauty of the area, and further draws the impact of that space from the music. Furthermore, it reinforces the urgency of Cardiello’s words, railing against the accepted wisdom of death and loss through imagery both peaceful and frantic. This is something of a theme for the track as a whole, competing emotions mirroring the condition of bereavement, where intrinsic beliefs are guessed at and questioned by outsiders, conventional wisdom stretched over an unconventional state, and serving no purpose beyond the creation of tension and guilt.

“I don’t see the difference,” Cardiello sings at the crescendo of the song, “no-one’s gone forever / we’re swimming in the pool of memories.” The statement becomes something of a mantra, and forms the overriding position of the track. The message here does not appear to be one of ‘moving on’ from loss, but rather re-configuring its meaning into a more useful shape. Which is to say, a lack of reason or explanation does not equate to a lack of meaning. Bombshell Nightlight use absence not as proof of nothingness but the very opposite, as validation of life and evidence of meaning, emptiness mapped by what surrounds it.

Placid Lake is set for release on the 17th August via Anything Bagel and Reflective Tapes.

Photo by Emily Johnson

The post Song Premiere: Bombshell Nightlight – Death Day appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Tracklisting:

Typhoon – Rorschach
Cloud – Two Hands Bound
Trust Fall – do it right
Wooing – In Colour
Tree House – Nonsense
Long Neck – Milky Way
Sara Renberg – Take the Summer Off
Special Moves – Half and Half
Lying Down – Betty and Barney
Pastel – Close
Monarch Mtn – Saint in Armor II
Doomking – I Laid the Prairies to Rest
vierzig skizzen – passwords
Old Robes – The Spider and the Spectator
Jeremy Squires – Gift
Bill Vuono – Think of Me (feat. Earl McVeigh)
Kraków Loves Adana – Rapture
Cool American – Focus
Bucolic – Blue Tree
There’s Talk – Give It Up
Airium + Double Honey – Concrete House Of Dreams And Pools
The Saxophones – Just You
Jelani Sei – LVNDR TWN
Why Dogs Why – Linus

You can find all of our monthly roundup mixes here, and be sure to stick around into March to see what musical goodies we’ll be sending your way. And, of course, please reach out on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram if you have something you think we should hear.

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

January opens with ‘intro’, an 80-second lo-fi instrumental that builds from a careful beginning into a searing guitar and gentle handclaps, before ‘You Know What the Last Song is Going to Be’ introduces Hoey’s vocals behind searing guitar and slapped drums. Final track ‘Half and Half’ is the most substantial, a indie rock song that rounds off the release in gloriously DIY style, a rousing end to a great little collection.

You can get January now on cassette or digital download via the Reflective Tapes Bandcamp page. It’s actually the first release in a Special Moves monthly “cassingle” series, and has already been followed with February, a live recording of three more DIY rock songs.

The post Special Moves – January appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Label Reflective Tapes call the album “tender, folk-inflected indie rock,” which sounds pretty accurate to me, something like introspective bedroom pop meets pop punk (e.g. Girlpool or joyride!) and 90s indie rock. Opener ‘wild fire/flowers’, which first appeared on Boundless and Unafraid, begins with an acapella intro before morphing into chugging indie rock, whipping up into a maelstrom of guitar and smacked drums. Although the song has been updated since it’s last appearance, our description still holds true. “The song is a good introduction to Trust Fall’s aesthetic,” Jon wrote in his review, “the gentle bedroom folk littered with small moments that threaten to be less gentle, the lyrics wrapped in imagery of the natural world, reassuring and timeless yet also volatile, too large to control.” And follow-up ‘brightest star’ doesn’t rein things in any, its big rolling almost post-rock drums crashing against squalling guitar and expressive vocals.

“Why is life so full of fucking ups and downs?”

‘do it right’ feels lean and focused, two and a half minutes of emotive power pop, complete with a cathartic chorus of “I can feel your love slip from my grip / I think I’m going to be sick.” It’s this balance between tender emotion and an excited pop punk rush that defines the album, the noisy defiant moments serving to paint even the saddest sentiments with a sense of strength, the hope that things will work out and we’ll be strong enough to get by. ‘better off now’ is another good example of this. The song is one of Trust Falls’ slower and quieter numbers, but, as the title suggests, rather than being a complete bummer, the narrator delivers her lines with the feeling that they’re going to be okay.

Finale ‘dirt roads’ skillfully pulls off the loud/quiet dynamic, hushed intimate periods occasionally erupting in pummeling guitar and clattering drums, the vocals rising to a yell to be heard above the din. It’s a fitting end to the album, perfectly capturing what’s come before.

You can get Giants of Love on cassette tape via Reflective Tapes Bandcamp page, and as a name-your-price download from the Trust Fall Bandcamp page.

The post Trust Fall – Giants of Love appeared first on Various Small Flames.

The album opens with the instrumental ‘Crossing’, which shifts and swirls in a cloud of 90s grunge, dissonant squealing guitar and slapped drums. The song seemingly finds its sense of purpose around the 5 minute mark, narrowing its focus and driving forward at a sauntering gallop. Follow-up ‘Everyone I Know’ introduces vocals, which are surprisingly soft and gentle amongst the instrumentation.

“i’ve got reasons why i go to the woods at night
everyone that i know is standing all around
they say its okay now
chetty it’s okay”

‘Captain Spark’ has a kind of inelegant rhythm before ending in a snarl of guitar and crash of drums and the repeated line “i see you hiding but i wanna move forward”. ‘Crowded Room’ is probably the album’s most danceable track, lo-fi guitar sashaying around katie’s drums, while ‘Care Song’ is a joyously raucous instrumental, chetty’s guitar searing through the gloomy lo-fi rock vibes. ‘hahaha’ is much more ruminative, hoping and wishing for, or perhaps even promising, something different:

“im gonna be my own star in a gross world
im gonna lean on you
dont you know angels are dreaming of you
plants are in your front yard
i wanna fall asleep on my back
think of nothing for awhile”

The vocals on ‘Shimmer’ are soft and breathy and barely there, delivering opaque and simple lyrics that are thick with imagery, like how minimalist photographs of everyday scenes can sometimes be infused with something more. Closer ‘Sister Girl’ is enveloped in a shadowy lo-fi atmosphere, like a sweaty basement show from the 90s, all screeching guitar and unpredictable percussion. It’s a cool end to a really great collection of songs.

You can get Feed the Bug now on cassette from Reflective Tapes or as a download from the Twelve Gardens Bandcamp page.

The post Twelve Gardens – Feed the Bug appeared first on Various Small Flames.

The album opens with ‘wild fire/flowers’, a track which sounds like a cross between Yowler and Moutain Man, the opening a wild hymnal (“let is spread like wild fire / let it grow like wild flowers / everything we know comes from water”) before the introduction of electric guitar and a hazy ambient background. The song is a good introduction to Trust Fall’s aesthetic, the gentle bedroom folk littered with small moments that threaten to be less gentle, the lyrics wrapped in imagery of the natural world, reassuring and timeless yet also volatile, too large to control.

“I had a life
before I was born
in the water”

‘Monsters Aren’t Scary’ is a delicate song buried beneath reverb, the low grumble representing the titular monsters, while ‘Winter Walking’ is a short track in the vein of free cake for every creature or Cyberbully Mom Club, full of small, sincere details that read like an internal practise of a conversation that will never take place (“Winter walking by the ocean / this is a good rock to sit down on / you are a good friend to sit next to”). ‘Boundlessness’ has a similar feel, although a dark cloud has passed over the narrator, the easy joy of the previous track replaced by uncertainty and unease.

“When did we invite the storm in our home?
And I envy the way you seem to know the way.
I’ll try not to rely on your ghost”

‘In yr truck’ opens sad and lonely, like Girlpool played at half-speed in an empty field, before building into a frenzy, the guitars accelerating and the vocals becoming almost unhinged. ‘Maria’ is slow and melancholic, occupying a flat space of acceptance where the things you love have slipped away. “Everything will change,” she sings. “I must remember that,” as if trying to convince herself such heartache is natural. It becomes clear that the song details a dissolving relationship, the dissipation of love through the slow erosion of time and space.

“What do I do now? What do I say to you
in the kitchen, when you ask what I’ve been up to?
It’s not that you asked, it’s that you had to ask
It’s that you didn’t know that makes me so sad.
I miss you.”

The album closes with a cover of Keith Whitley’s ‘I’m No Stranger to the Rain’, which comes off as a triumphant finale, a moment of strength or assurance in the gloom, as if there’s a certain pleasure in passing through sadness and appearing intact on the other side. “But I’ll put this cloud behind me,” she sings. “That’s how the Man designed me / To ride the wind and dance in a hurricane / I’m no stranger to the rain”. It seems, perhaps ironically, that admitting to your metaphorical wet climate might just help you notice the sky brightening once in a while.

You can grab boundless and unafraid now from the Trust Fall Bandcamp page on a pay-what-you-can basis, and on cassette from Reflective Tapes.

The post Trust Fall – Boundless and Unafraid appeared first on Various Small Flames.