Is there a better pairing of kindred spirits than a split seven-inch single featuring Le Butcherettes and Death Valley Girls? We’re hard pressed to think of one. Sure, the interaction is fleeting, but damn is it satisfying. We’ve got Le Butcherettes on side A taking on one of Death Valley Girls’ most cosmic numbers, the kaleidoscopic center-piece off “Under the Spell of Joy” album, “The Universe.” Le Butcherettes’ fearless and charismatic mastermind Teri Gender Bender takes the tune into even trippier territories, replicating the original song’s sonic tapestry of synth, sax, and guitars with layer upon layer of vocals.
Only the sparse accompaniment of acoustic guitar and modest percussion keeps the song from being fully a capella. It’s a perfect interpretation of Death Valley Girls’ communal and choral aims. On side B, Death Valley Girls offer up a new tune—the deliciously ecstatic “When I’m Free.” Like every great Death Valley Girls song, it’s a celebration of life bolstered by fiery rock n’ roll riffage, spiritual organ, dizzying sax, and Bonnie Bloomgarden’s defiant and triumphant vocals. Suicide Squeeze Records is proud to offer up this meeting of mystical minds on vinyl and digital platforms.
The one-time vinyl pressing is limited to 1000 copies (700 on Space Junk Splatter, 300 on Inner Ascension).
“Loss and hope, isolation and communion, the cessation and renewal of purpose. Timeless and salient, these themes echo throughout the fifth album from Midlake, their first since “Antiphon” in 2013. Produced to layered, loving perfection by John Congleton, “For The Sake Of Bethel Woods” is an album of immersive warmth and mystery from a band of ardent seekers, one of our generation’s finest: a band once feared lost themselves by fans, perhaps, but here revivified with freshness of intent. From the cover to the title and beyond, a longing to reconnect with that which seems lost sits at the record’s core.
The cover star is keyboardist/flautist Jesse Chandler’s father, who, tragically, passed away in 2018. As singer Eric Pulido explains, “He was a lovely human, and it was really heavy and sad, and he came to Jesse in a dream. I reference it in a song. He said, ‘Hey, Jesse, you need to get the band back together.’ I didn’t take that lightly.
We had already had these feelings with everyone in the band of, oh, this could be a cool thing to do. But the dream was a kind of beautiful depiction of a purpose to reconvene and make music together as friends.”
Midlake’s forthcoming studio album, “For the Sake of Bethel Woods” available everywhere March 18th, 2022.
Recorded in Indiana in 1964, around the same time veteran bluesman Son House was basking in the spotlight of a revival, this previously unreleased show captures the sexagenarian in a setting that rings with intimacy. Overseen by the Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, whose record label released it, “Forever on My Mind”sheds light on a period that helped catapult classic blues into the consciousness of a new generation of artists.
“Forever On My Mind”, the new album of previously unreleased Son House recordings from Easy Eye Sound, the independent label operated by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys, is the premiere release from collector Dick Waterman’s personal cache of ’60s recordings by some of the titans of Delta blues.
His collection of quarter-inch tapes — which are being restored to remarkable clarity by Easy Eye Sound — have gone unreleased until now. “Forever On My Mind” is the earliest issued full-length Son House solo performance recorded after House’s rediscovery, at an appearance captured on November. 23rd, 1964 at Wabash College, a small men’s school in Crawfordsville, Ind.
In terms of power and intensity, it rivals, and in some cases surpasses, the Columbia album cut five months later in a New York City studio. It also reflects a sharp musical focus that diminished in House’s later concert appearances and recordings.”
The new album ‘Forever On My Mind’ is available March 18th, 2022
Horsegirl Command Us to Dance, Dance, Dance, Dance on “Anti-glory”, The Chicago trio have also shared details on their debut album “Versions of Modern Performance”, which drops June 3rd.
The Chicago trio Horsegirl (Penelope Lowenstein, Nora Cheng, and Gigi Reece) announced their debut album “Versions of Modern Performance“. With this batch of new material, they’re getting ready for a three-month tour kicking off this summer on the heels of a trip to SXSW later this month. The three best friends have been dubbed as the new torchbearers of ’90s college rock, and they continue their stride with the latest single “Anti-glory.”
Auditorium-filling drums and a tumbling bass lead to a commanding, abrupt delivery of the chorus: “Dance / Dance / Dance / Dance / With me.” It’s a bit Sonic Youth, a bit Delta 5, but nothing pastiche. Outside of the ripping melody of it all, “Anti-glory” doesn’t seem to have some intense backstory. “We wrote ‘Anti-glory’ almost by accident, while messing around with an old song during rehearsal.
The song fell into place immediately, and looking back, we have no idea how we wrote it,” the group explained. “As always, this song and album are for Chicago, our friends, our friends’ bands, everyone who can play the guitar, and everyone who can’t play the guitar.”
“Anti-glory,” is taken from Horsegirl’s debut album ‘Versions of Modern Performance,’ out June 3rd on Matador Records.
Bambara and Nothing’s Nicky Palermo Talk Love on My Mind, Post-Tour Downtime, and Big-Ass Fireworks, The Brooklyn post-punk trio linked up with the Nothing frontman ahead of the release of Bambara’s new mini-album.
When I say Bambara reminds me of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, I think I mean that less in the sense that their music directly references any particular moment in that group’s decades-long career, but rather that it embodies the same foggy theatricality as the Seeds’ chandelier-lit performance in Wings of Desire—an energy not dissimilar to the one Bambara displays in their live shows, regardless of how elegant the lighting is. The music would feel incidental to Reid Bateh’s noir monologues if his backing band of ’80s-set urban-paranoia-soundtracking post-punk wasn’t so consistently compelling.
On the heels of their immediately pre-pandemic-released LP “Stray“, the group is returning with the mini-album “Love on My Mind” which continues to stroll the same darkened city streets as that last release, while tending to venture further into the muddy waters of cow-punk they’ve circled since they first came up in the Brooklyn scene. Or “that fucking dark post-punk cowboy shit,” as their friend Nicky Palermo of the band Nothing calls it. “It’s fucking tough, to me.”
With both bands navigating hectic touring schedules before the next wave of—uh, well, let’s not go there Palermo met up with Reid and his bandmates Blaze Bateh and William Brookshire for a brief conversation about writing processes, returning to real life post-tour, and, of course, “ghost shit.”
check out “Love on My Mind” when it drops tomorrow via Wharf Cat Records.
There’s always been a little bit of The Cure found within the fabric of Swedish indie outfit Shout Out Louds. For one thing, there’s the band’s name likely a nod to lyrics on the British band’s 1992 song “High.” Then there are the spritely but melancholy guitar licks that have embedded themselves in their songs over the course of their 21-year existence, little shimmers of reference, influence, and homage. And while nobody really sounds like Robert Smith, on occasion through the years frontman Adam Olenius has managed to channel the messy-haired, eyeliner-wearing icon with his own vocals. And just as few do hopelessly romantic like The Cure, Shout Out Louds certainly give them a good run for their money.
None of that is more audible or visible than on this, the Stockholm-based five-piece’s sixth full-length. Its second song is called “High As a Kite.” It’s admittedly a common phrase, but one that can’t help but evoke, again, the sad-summer glee of “High” and its impressionistic opening imagery: “When I see you sky as I kite / As high as I might / I can’t get that high.” That comparison might be a stretch were it not preceded by opener “As Far Away As Possible,” a blissful dose of nostalgia that contains some incredibly Cure-esque guitar lines. And then the third song shares its title with The Cure’s 1990 remix album, Mixed Up. Coincidence? Possibly. Ultimately, deliberate or otherwise, those frames of reference exist. And they’re utterly glorious.
“House” is just eight songs long, but it draws you deeply into the warm memories that serve as its foundation, into those long drawn-out summer days of youth, of being promising and wide-eyed and happy to be alive—and far removed from the bleak realities of 2022. “Sky & I (Himlen)” expands on that sentiment and sentimentality both literally and figuratively. “Let me stay here forever / Let me get lost in time,”sings Olenius, lost but somehow comfortable. “No one knows who I am / It’s between the sky and I.”
He’s joined on the song by the band’s Bebban Stenborg, who only adds to its bittersweet atmosphere when she sings the line “Feeling something between pain and pleasure”—and you’re suddenly trapped in the amber of time, between past and present, love and loss.
That’s something felt in equal measure on “Multiply,” which soars with dreamy escapism before album closer “Sometimes Sometimes” drops the mood somewhat, ending this sublime album on a note of beautifully sad resignation. “I wanna stay, wanna say, I’m so sorry for everything,” sings Olenius at the start of the second verse, setting up the mood that pervades this crescendo’s crescendo: “I wish you knew me yesterday / I was all-time high / Light years from how I feel today / That’s how it is sometimes.” That last line repeats over and over, emphatic and sad and defiant, conveying so much emotion beyond those five lines. Because, really, what else is there to say?
There are few musicians more trustworthy than Maya Bon when it comes to navigating life’s unavoidable upheaval. Since 2017, Bon has been releasing EPs consistently under the moniker Babehoven, a project which currently also features her partner Ryan Albert. Along with their past two records—2020’s “Yellow” has a pretty good reputation and 2021’s “Nastavi, Calliope” their latest, “Sunk”, completes a sort of triptych of grief, with each EP serving as a different stage in that process, both universal and personal. “Yellow” was immersive and unmooring, like the immediate aftermath of a tragedy. “Nastavi” was a reintroduction to a once-familiar reality. “Sunk” accepts that life has been permanently altered and likely will be again in ways we can’t possibly predict, and that there’s nothing that can be done about it.
Where the two previous EPs were more sonically experimental than Babehoven has ever been, Bon’s vocals do most of the work on “Sunk“, backed mostly by the simple strumming of an acoustic guitar. Before the album’s recording, she and Albert immersed themselves in Elliott Smith’s Either/Or, and its influence is immediately apparent.
opener “Fugazi” mentions a depressingly relatable moment that can reduce you to nothing if you let it: “He thought that he showed me Fugazi / And I don’t know how to explain how that feels,” Bon sings, audibly out of energy toward the end. Her voice, which is the strongest that it’s been on this EP, floats up the octave and into the ether as she sings, “You leave me breathless,” the wind knocked out of her. Later, on “The Way That Things Burn,” Bon offers the project’s thesis: “I’m thinking about the way that we learn / When everything is hopeless.” The EP’s straightforward nature conveys how comfortable Bon finally is with this notion; in fact, she wants us all to join her. “Creature” builds to a glorious final swell, a layered chorus with Bon singing the phrase “Everyone’s down” repeatedly up to the heavens, giving us permission to embrace that sentiment. It’s a massive relief, a celebratory giving-up of the highest order. Let it wash over you.
Bon is always extremely generous with the lessons she’s learned. This is the gift she gives us on each of her records, and “Sunk” is no exception. Over the seven-plus minutes of the EP’s sixth and final song, “Twenty Dried Chillies,” she offers them up plainly alongside a series of family memories: “It is a cruel sensation, remembering I am human / And I’m prone to accidents of heart.” This incisive assessment of her own environment is deeply personal, but she allows us to see ourselves in it.
The album art is similar: Albert hoists their dog Woody skyward like Simba in The Lion King, with Woody’s shell-shocked face situated under a rainbow and the EP’s title in Y2K graphics. Here we all are, and “Sunk” is an absolution and a blank slate as we move forward, together. As Bon sings on the beautiful “Get Better,” “Somehow, I just keep going.”
Nothing is obscured on “Sunk“. It’s all on the table, demanding nothing of the listener except empathy.
From the “Sunk” EP, releasing March 4th, 2022 on Double Double Whammy.
A riff-ridden ride of damn good doom-punk. Meet Witch Fever, the Manchester four-piece wielding their gratifying and glorious grunge poetry, arming their ever-growing fanbase with a memorandum to change the world.
The name ‘Witch Fever’ is inspired by the hysteria which accompanied the witch trials in Salem, Massachusetts, and Europe, which the band have long considered were a means to belittle, suppress and diminish women. Since emerging in 2017, the quartet have been an impressive voice in advocating for women’s rights, standing up to sexism within the music industry and the outdated tropes associated with female expression. Witch Fever do what they wanna do and channel punk attitudes independent of what anyone would otherwise tell them punk should be. Commanding their sublime racket, this is a band who stand for something and we’re more than ready to stand right with them.
“We didn’t start the band with any genre in mind and it took us a while to find what style we wanted to make but we’ve always resonated with heavy riffs.”
Live is where their power lies, it’s a snarling, pounding show they have, we’re counting the days until we can see it again.
Also last seen making a racket supporting Joe Talbot earlier in the year were Witch Fever, who are no stranger to these pages. We’ve been bigging these up for a while now and with good reason, it’s a tremendous noise that they are making, all riffs and attitude.
Glasgow band Walt Disco are a thriving musical mutation of razzle-dazzle and self-affirmation. This Glaswegian six-piece have not only snagged the best band name in recent memory, but have the kind of swagger and flamboyance to live up to all the theatrics their moniker might manifest.
Walt Disco‘s band is their instrument with which to examine and explore music, be it through sound, theme or genre. And so we greet debut album “Unlearning”, a melding of minds and emotions and a brilliantly unique brew of captivating songs that not only make you dance, but make you listen.
“Our desire with our music is to create grandiose songs with emotional resonance but always with a touch of the obscure.” Although there’s a sentimentality to Walt Disco,they are undoubtedly a trailblazing beacon for contemporary music. You’ll find no gimmicks here, just genuine music aficionados having a wonderful time.
We’re excited to announce Walt Disco as part of a spotlight on the emerging music we are the most excited for you to hear, to follow and become a fan of, do not miss their breath-taking debut album “Unlearning” released 1st April on Lucky Number Records.
Walt Disco are Charlie Lock, Jack Martin, James Potter, Finlay McCarthy, David Morgan and Lewis Carmichael.
I’ve been gently discovering the music of Sarah Beth Tomberlin lately. Just gorgeous song writing and songs that have seeped in slowly. ‘Tap’ like forthcoming album title track ‘Idkwntht’ (“I don’t know who needs to hear this’) reminds me of the brittle and swooning work of The Weather Station and Half Waif.
During the pandemic, Sarah Beth was all over the place, physically and mentally. Louisville. Los Angeles. Back home in Illinois for a bit. Brooklyn, where she’s now settled, she says. Brooklyn is also where her new album “i don’t know who needs to hear this…” was recorded, at Figure 8 studios over the course of two weeks, with producer and engineer Phil Weinrobe (who played a variety of instruments on the collection), and later mastered by Josh Bonati, also in Brooklyn.
“The theme of the record,” she explains, “is to examine, hold space, make an altar for the feelings.” Hold space: Tomberlin’s songs do it literally, making it heard space. Her full-length debut, “At Weddings“, was widely praised for the sparsity and delicacy of its instrumentation, especially in contrast with the emotional heft of her lyrics.
Here, the space feels larger and holier, built to echo. Pedal steel. Old acoustic guitars, freshly plucked. A drifting synthesizer. Chill, brushy percussion. Ambient, expansive clarinet and saxophone. Aleatory piano trills, a lot of piddling with the occasional splash. The looseness and wideness of the arrangements conveys a tender regard for their parts, as though each arpeggio, loop, scratch is a found shell or feather in the hand. Then there is the instrument of her voice, which has the endearing quality of being perfectly tuned but reluctantly played. “I’m not a singer,” she sings on “idkwntht.” “I’m just someone who’s guilty.”
The Fat Angel Sings 