Archive for the ‘CLASSIC ALBUMS’ Category

Beginning life as the solo project of vocalist Emily Braden, Neighbor Lady were formed when Emily realised she was too nervous to get up on stage as a solo artist,“so I asked my friends to play with me”. Now based out of Atlanta, the band originally formed in the musical hot-bed of Athens, and it is perhaps unsurprising, considering that location, that the sound of their debut album, Maybe Later, was built on the twin pillars of country and indie-rock.

From the opening bars of the first track, Let It Bleed, the intensity in Neighbor Lady’s music and the quality of Emily Braden’s vocal are both laid out for the listener to admire. The echoing, lightly distorted guitar ebbs and flows as pounding snare hits, clattering cymbals and nagging, propulsive piano chords, give the track an intensity and a drive. Atop all that wonderful noise, Emily, in her voice, the middle ground of Patsy Cline and Jessica Lee Mayfield, paints a picture of casting off whatever is weighing you down, “you said you’d do anything for me. But you hardly even know me”, Emily sings, before cathartically declaring, “I let it bleed”, atop a particularly wonderful crescendo. If Let It Bleed was the perfect introduction to Neighbor Lady’s sound, across the rest of the record they demonstrate they are no one trick pony; Oh Honey is a strutting Natalie Prass like slice of classic pop, I Wish Nothing dials up the country influence and delivers a perfect two-stepping rhythm, while Silent Separately adds a Shadows-like twang and a flamenco strut.

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A beautifully produced and performed record, Maybe Later, is a new take on an old style, one of the year’s finest new voices, delivering a stunning, sumptuous record, in which to get lost, and charmed, time and time again.

released May 11th, 2018

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Vocalist, Christina Michelle, comes with a deeper introspection on struggles with mental health, not holding back with this incredibly personal outpouring. Guitarist, Mick Ford, brings a dissonance to their sound that separates the listener from what could be expected while the rhythm section made up of Tyler Forsythe and Tommy Cantwell (who together play in the Good Fight Records band Axis) aggressively keep the songs in place.

In their first release via hardcore stronghold Deathwish Inc., South Florida four-piece Gouge Away ply their side-winding skirmishes with jangly fits of punk noise. Kindergarten teacher-turned-mighty-frontperson Christina Michelle burns through reflections on myriad social anxieties with searing conviction. “Hurt is a commodity,” chants the full band in “Subtle Thrill” — swept clean by the dusky undertaker of a bass line in the following track, “Ghost.” And just when you think they’re about to capsize from the sheer momentum of their fury, Gouge Away find equilibrium in the brine.

From the album “Burnt Sugar”

Breakout star Erin Rae sophomore album, Putting On Airs, which came out this summer, but really took on a life of its own after her live shows highlighted the work. Erin and her songs, her golden, hushed feel of the record. “Listening to it, you hear a natural reverb, a sense that it was made somewhere big and echoing and timeless,” . Full of nostalgic, piped-in piano, up close and personal steel guitar, and Rae’s effortless, feathery alto, this record is like a sweet, warm wind, rushing through your window just when you need a reminder of how beautiful and breezy life can be

This Kansas City songwriter made a strong debut with her stately, elegant full-length, The first two singles from Anna St. Louis’ debut album If There Only Was a River (“Understand” and “The Bells”) introduce us to the songwriter’s subtle fingerpicking style, but on “Desert,” the third, her husky tenor absolutely steals the spotlight. Low-lit by slow-burning electric guitar, St. Louis’ bewitchingly deep voice is a commanding force on the track and on the entire record.

If There Only Was a River is St. Louis’ proper full-length debut, the follow-up to First Songs, a tape of songs she released last year on Woodsist/Mare Records (now available digitally, too). St. Louis’ warm, dusty acoustic renderings need no introduction, but her new record arrives with a few familiar names attached: Kevin Morby and King Tuff’s Kyle Thomas are producers, and Night Shop’s Justin Sullivan, along with Pavo Pavo’s Oliver Hill, are both featured on the album’s 11 tracks

St. Louis uses nostalgic strings and expertly positioned vocal phrases to draw the listener into her heady, mesmerizing world, full of wobbly melodies and intently stated folk koans that continue to unfold in your mind long after the song comes to a close. Sometimes the simplest things are the most important, and St. Louis wields that wisdom with the dexterity of an expert, even though she’s just starting out.

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Sun June shares some commonalities with another Austin, Texas outfit , all the more reason to keep a steadfast ear to the ground for music coming out of that particular city.  on Years, the band’s debut full-length for Keeled Scales, Laura Colwell and company offer up ten spare tracks that synthesize 1960s pop, early-2000s r&b, and country ornamentations, Colwell’s electric piano and the telecaster’s more mellow spectrum teaming up with a tasteful rhythm section for slow-burning standouts like “Johnson City” and the muted gleam of opening number “Discotheque.”

‘Discotheque’ by Sun June From Years, debut LP, Released June 15th, 2018 via Keeled Scales

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When Kacey Musgraves says “Love Is A Wild Thing” she isn’t talking about the feral passion that animates so many rock songs. Animal lust on the order of the Troggs is left to the imagination on Golden Hour. Rather, Musgraves is comparing love to an unstoppable force of nature: a river dead-set on finding the ocean, a flower blooming through cracks in the concrete. It won’t be denied. “If you try to hide it, it’s gonna shine even more.”

She speaks from experience. Musgraves wrote and recorded Golden Hour while basking in the glow of her young marriage to fellow singer-songwriter Ruston Kelly. Apparently, theirs is a casual but all-consuming affection, one that turns an evening at home into an easygoing swoon and makes a weekend apart feel like an endless toil. It’s a comfortable, lived-in kind of love, realistic about fears and flaws even as it sends her heart aflutter and sets her world on fire. Musgraves translated those sensations into the year’s most spectacular album, a collection of songs as irresistible as the romance that inspired it.

Viewed more broadly, Golden Hour is an album about family. It’s centered on her new life with Kelly, but those portraits of intimacy are accented by glimpses of Musgraves longing to reconnect with her relatives, as if moved by this fresh domestic bliss to reestablish bonds that have deteriorated over time. On “Mother,” she calls her mom during an acid trip and admits, “I wish we didn’t live so far from each other,” expressing a similar sentiment elsewhere about her sister. On the spellbinding “Slow Burn,” in the most quoted lyric on the album, she flashes back to a moment she wishes she’d handled better: “Texas is hot, I can be cold/ Grandma cried when I pierced my nose.”

These reflections are couched in gently sighing country songs that glimmer like a waking dream. From a string section that evokes Beck’s Sea Change to a vocoder chorus seemingly borrowed from Daft Punk, Musgraves distills a wide-open sky full of influences into a welcoming signature sound. This is music you can luxuriate in, charmingly simple on the surface even as it brims with gorgeous detail, lightly psychedelic but always tethered to real life. Musgraves’ lyrics are disarming in the same way, a series of plainspoken vignettes so matter-of-fact that all the clever turns of phrase take months to reveal themselves. There is no wink and no strain. Again and again, the album makes the incredible feel as natural as breathing.

Golden Hour occasionally deviates from its main themes, resulting in some of its brightest highlights: the spectral breakup ballad “Space Cowboy,” the country-disco kiss-off “High Horse,” the tender piano parable “Rainbow.” The album makes room for a complicated view of the human experience, not just lovestruck reverie. But its throughline, and the source of its enduring magnetism, is an optimism that transcends even its central love story. “Oh, what a world/ I don’t wanna leave,” Musgraves marvels. “There’s all kinds of magic/ It’s hard to believe.” In an increasingly dark and cynical society that makes living with a sense of wonder seem impossible, there was Golden Hour all year offering an alternate perspective — a respite, a salve, maybe even a compass. For 46 minutes at a time, it’s not too good to be true.

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In the 18 months since Crystal Balloon’s first EP, Hurricane there’s been a few changes, both in personnel and in style.
They have a new permanent bass player, Charlie Molyneux to mesh with drummer and original member Eric Karvik and the key addition of a second guitarist Tim Burden, who also contributes strong support vocals has allowed founder member Jack Stanton the space to develop his already excellent guitar playing and powerful vocals.
They come to their second EP, People in a position of some strength, boosted by a series of excellent live performances, including a live video shoot at The Lantern.
Familiarity with the band’s music is quickly re-established by the two openers ‘Beat the Traffic’ and ‘Diesel Dreams’, particularly in the latter, where we begin to appreciate the benefit of the two guitar approach.
But the magnificent ‘Signal’, written with sadness, disbelief and admiration in the immediate aftermath of David Bowie’s death, begins to take the EP in a different and more expansive direction. “We’ll get a message across the zodiac, to ask The Starman when is he coming back”. Ah, if only…
Stanton switches to acoustic for ‘Open the Box’ and pulls out his strongest vocal performance in this collection, the smoothness of the musical delivery being punctuated midway by a chiming exchange of notes between the two guitars. 

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I had a minor moan about Hurricane, that it wasn’t longer and again here, it’s a pity this wasn’t an album because anyone who follows the band live will know that there’s a lot more excellent material in the locker.
The closer, ‘Don’t Turn Off The Rain’ with it’s sparse, choppy opening rhythm building to a powerful mid-section, dropping back again to relative calm, then signing off with a blast is a fitting conclusion to an EP that very effectively consolidates the band’s credentials.

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The Austin duo Hovvdy joined the ranks of double double whammy for their second full-length, their warm, lived-in nostalgic turns slotting nicely into the label’s aesthetic.  Cranberry finds Hovvdy using a familiar palette as a foundation for cautious forays into tangential sonic realms; the gorgeous lilt of  the stand-out cut “truck” is punctuated by wisps of pedal steel, an affective presentation of reflective recollection.

Hovvdy – “Petal” Off their new album, “Cranberry” Released February 9th, 2018 on Double Double Whammy

Wilco may have set a high water mark for experimental Americana with 2002’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and 2004’s A Ghost is Born, but frontman Jeff Tweedy has spent the intervening years slowly inching away from the abstract and obtuse elements of those LPs, in favor of more direct and explicit songwriting. Warm, his first proper album under his own name, marks the exceptional culmination of that approach. Written in the wake of his father’s passing, and as Tweedy enters his 50s, these deeply intimate and skeletal songs consider what it means to remain in the present, what it means to be a link in a family chain, and what it means to appreciate the joys of life even as darkness threatens to swallow us whole.

Rarely has Tweedy conveyed so much emotion with such sparse arrangements. On standout track “How Hard It is for a Desert to Die,” each vivid note of his acoustic guitar carries remarkable emotional heft. On opening track “Bombs Above,” he recounts his battle with opioid addiction in a near-whisper—“I’m taking a moment to apologize,” he sings—backed by knotted guitars and his elder son, Spencer, gently thumping the drums. Even “Let’s Go Rain,” a major-key jangle and the album’s most accessible track, utilizes its sunny melody as a foil for an allegory of total destruction, and the deception makes it all the more chilling.

On “War on War,” from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Tweedy proclaimed, with then-typical abstraction, that “You have to learn how to die / If you want to want to be alive.” Throughout Warm, he conveys his gratitude for that life with a clarity and solemnity that, finally, brings that sentiment into sharp focus. “I don’t believe in heaven,” he sings on the album’s title track. For Tweedy, heaven, and hell, are right here on earth.

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When Damien Jurado toured his new album, The Horizon Just Laughed, he did so while wearing a variety of plain-color jumpsuits that were less Devo and more “I work in a factory.” Appropriate, anyway, as he’s been working like a factory worker for over twenty years now, steadily releasing album after album of hopelessly reliable nylon-string folk-rock that you could set your watch to. Good old fashioned American craftsmanship. Or something like that. Jurado’s music has been frequently taken for granted over time—it seems as if each album is warmly received and then moved on from—and that’s likely partially due to the fact that, from a distance, it can sound similar to what one might call modern mood music. It’s much more than that, of course, but a playful awareness of that perception is part of what makes “Percy Faith” one of Jurado’s best-ever written songs, it being named after the inventor of mood music, Mr. Percy Faith. The time-travelling saga is almost epistolary in nature—we’re dropped into the middle of what appears to be a letter directed at various semi-forgotten entertainers like Faith, Ray Conniff, and Allan Sherman—but “Stan” this is not. Jurado’s world is dreamy, sure, and you might not notice it at first, but the assembly line catches up to everyone eventually

Damien Jurado, “Percy Faith” from the album “The Horizon Just Laughed” out May 4, 2018 on Secretly Canadian