Sub Pop News

"Color LP" is pressed on gold vinyl. Black Up is the new sonic move from Shabazz Palaces. Like rich velvet hijabs or gold threaded abayas. Luxury as understood by the modest. Shabazz Palaces. If Bedouins herded beats instead of goats and settled in Seattle instead of the Atlas Mountains, this would be their album. Forward thinkers but nostalgic for a sparer time when ancient astronomers only recognized five planets. Hip hop. Black light uses electromagnetic radiation to eradicate microorganisms, but shabazz didn't come to kill a sound, just to shine their own incandescent lamp on this. Hear. Hard and clear. Fifty thousand years in the making. Honorable._palaceer pink gators. Produced by Knife Knights.plcrs at Gunbeat Serenade Studio in Outplace Palacelands. It was recorded and mixed in Lixx-alog by Blood.

There's Nothing Wrong with Love is the second full-length album released by legendary indie rock band Built to Spill. It was originally released September 13, 1994 on the Up Records label. The line-up for the album was Doug Martsch, bassist Brett Nelson, and drummer Andy Capps, with Phil Ek producing. The album features the enduring singles "In the Morning," "Car," and "Distopian Dream Girl." There's Nothing Wrong with Love was wonderfully received by critics upon its release. It went on to earn "Best Albums of 90's" notices from the likes of Pitchfork, PASTE, SPIN, and has sold nearly 140k copies to date.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

Originally released in 2017, Beast Epic, Iron & Wine’s fourth album for Sub Pop, recasts soft power as a series of vignettes, observations and regular old songs that redeem through joy and a certain expectation of grace. Even the instant classic, “Bitter Truth, with a lyric as pained and direct as any I've heard from Iron & Wine, is leavened with background vocals recalling The Jordanaires. The album brims with surprise flourishes, classic touches and an appealing confidence that is evident on songs like “Call It Dreaming,” “Thomas County Law,” “About A Bruise” to the almost croony “Last Night.” Iron & Wine’s Beast Epic was written and produced by Sam Beam, and recorded and engineered by Tom Schick at the Loft in Chicago in July 2016 and January 2017. The musicians who played on Beast Epic include longtime Iron & Wine collaborators Robert Burger (keys), Joe Adamik (percussion), and Jim Becker (guitar, banjo, violin, mandolin), along with bassist Sebastian Steinberg (Soul Coughing and Fiona Apple), and Chicagoan Teddy Rankin Parker (cello). Beast Epic was mastered by Richard Dodd in Nashville, Tennessee. *The term "soft power" was cribbed from author and Harvard professor Joseph Nye, but used in a different context.

Around the making of Mouthfuls, Fruit Bats had coalesced into a duo with Gillian Lisée and myself. It was sort of like our own mini cocaine-free version of Rumors. She wrote the bridge to 'Magic Hour,' which is totally about her. We also co-wrote 'Track Rabbits' together which is still one of my favorite things I've ever done and probably my favorite song on Mouthfuls.' 'I wrote 'When U Love Somebody' at the very last minute right before we started to record. It was kind of the throwaway track, which of course became by far the most popular song on the album and still probably the most popular Fruit Bats song, I was just trying to make something that sounded like Ray Davies, or even more specifically The Beatles' 'Two of Us.' Also, I spelled 'you' with a 'U' to reference Prince. People still like dancing to this one. Pressed on Straw Color Vinyl & exclusive to independent record stores!

Did you know there are horses on the cover of Earth 2: Special Low Frequency Version? There are at least three in the right hand corner, gathered inexplicably near a white canvas tent, a human possibly perched among its folds. As widescreen and vast as the cover may seem, those little details-the horses, the possible human, the faint wisp of white clouds-give it depth and wonder, something to which the imagination can return. Did you know that the music on Earth 2-repressed now for its 30th anniversary, back in its original artwork, and accompanied by a riveting set of remixes that demonstrate the reach of what Dylan Carlson long ago called "ambient metal"-works much the same way? The surface is massive and obvious, the meatpaw riffs of Carlson and bassist Dave Harwell pounding and swiping and pawing at the speakers, a true bludgeon in three-dimensional sound. Listen, though, for the details in the corners, for the finesse beneath the force, and Earth 2 reveals new levels of depth and wonder. The widespread impact of Earth 2 suggests that others have indeed been leaning in, listening to these minutiae and making something new of them. A masterpiece without many genre precedents, Earth 2 surely helped send doom metal down its more modern drone, ambient, and avant-garde avenues. Those descendants are obvious. Perhaps more surprising and gratifying are the ways it has influenced electronic music, modern composition, and even hip-hop by realigning our senses of tempo, time, and texture. Earth 2 engendered a rearrangement of expectations, regardless of preferred form.

Metallic Gold Vinyl! La Mano Cornuda, further (un)refined the band's sound into an absolute blast of an album that Eric Davidson (New Bomb Turks) hailed as the band's "best all-around record" in his garage-punk history We Never Learn: The Gunk Punk Undergut, 1988-2001.

Auf dieser Tribute-Compilation finden sich Interpretationen von Margo-Guryan-Songs von TOPS, Rahill, Clairo, June McDoom, MUNYA und Kainalu, Frankie Cosmos und Good Morning, Kate Bollinger, Pearl & The Oysters, Bedouine und Sylvie, Empress Of, Barrie, und Margo Price. Die meisten unserer Geschichten über Kultmusiker, die ein oder zwei Alben machen und dann zu verschwinden scheinen, sind von Trauer, Verzweiflung und ausgefranstem Ehrgeiz umrahmt. Nicht so bei Margo Guryan, einer begeisterten Jazz-Ausnahmeerscheinung, die Popmusik verachtete, bis sie 1966 „God Only Knows“ hörte, das ihr ein Fenster zu den Wundern öffnete, die diese Musik-Form enthalten konnte. Nur zwei Jahre später veröffentlichte sie auf dem Album „Take a Picture“ ihre eigenen kleinen Popsinfonien und erntete dafür großes Lob und hohe Erwartungen. Aber da sie sich bereits von dem Posaunisten Bob Brookmeyer hatte scheiden lassen, lehnte sie es ab, ein Musikerleben zu führen und auf Tournee zu gehen oder auch nur darüber zu sprechen. Ihre Zurückhaltung führte dazu, dass „Take a Picture“ bald in den Regalen der Discounter und letztlich in den Mülleimern landete. Sie schrieb weiterhin Songs und nahm noch jahrelang auf, arbeitete sogar mit der Band von Neil Diamond zusammen, aber meistens schien sie mit ihrem relativ privaten Leben zufrieden zu sein. Wie es sich für eine so atemberaubende und subtile Musik gehört, erlebte die 2021 verstorbene Guryan in den letzten sechs Jahrzehnten mehrere Wiederauferstehungen. Und jetzt geschieht es wieder: Kurz nachdem ihre fast geflüsterte und liebeskranke Hymne „Why Do I Cry“ sie 2021, im selben Jahr, in dem sie starb, zum TikTok-Star machte, startete die Numero Group eine Wiederveröffentlichungskampagne, aus der 2024 das hochgelobte Set „Words and Music“ hervorging. Und jetzt haben ein Dutzend Künstler - von denen keiner geboren war, als „Take a Picture“ entstand - das gesamte Album (plus einen Bonustrack) für „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ neu interpretiert. Empress Of, Margo Price, Clairo, June McDoom: Sie alle bestätigen Guryans Schärfe als Songwriterin und die Brillanz eines Albums, das den Werbezyklus, den Guryan vor so langer Zeit ablehnte, bei weitem übertroffen hat. Guryan wurde in einer weitläufigen Familie in Far Rockaway geboren, als der Ort noch größtenteils von Bäumen umrahmt war. Während ihres Kompositionsstudiums an der Boston University stolperte Guryan in einen Auftritt als Pianistin zwischen den Konzerten des Miles Davis Quintet, unterschrieb einen Vertrag als Songwriterin bei Atlantic Records und verpatzte eine Session mit Nesuhi Ertegun. Aber sie war nicht darauf aus, ein Gesangsstar zu werden. 1959 ging sie an die Lenox School of Jazz in den Berkshires, um für Ornette Coleman und Don Cherry zu schreiben, die Aufmerksamkeit des Dozenten Max Roach zu gewinnen und in Gunther Schuller einen langjährigen Mentor und Freund zu finden. Sie wurde eine versierte Texterin und schrieb nicht nur für Coleman und Nancy Harrow, sondern auch für Harry Belafonte und Gary MacFarland. Aber es war die spätere Begegnung mit den Beach Boys, die Guryan die Tür zu „Take a Picture“ und einer Reihe anderer großartiger Songs öffnete, von denen viele auf „Words and Music“ erschienen sind. „Take a Picture“ ist eine ausgefeilte Bestandsaufnahme der Romantik und Unentschlossenheit der Mittzwanziger, vom koketten Treiben in „Sunday Morning“ und der Verliebtheit in „Can You Tell“ bis zur verzweifelten Hilflosigkeit in „What Can I Give You“. Ihre ewig weiche Stimme, ihre kühne Songkunst und ihre völlige Offenheit: Guryan machte 1968 und darüber hinaus gewagte Musik, egal wie sanft sich diese Klänge zu bewegen schienen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ unterstreicht die Stärke von Guryans Liedern, indem es einem Dutzend verschiedener Künstler erlaubt, sie auf ihre eigene Reise mitzunehmen. Im Laufe der letzten Jahrzehnte ist immer deutlicher geworden, wie gut Guryan war, wie stabil ihre Lieder inmitten der wechselnden Geschmacksrichtungen. „Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan“ ist eine absolute Bestätigung, ein Zeugnis für die anhaltende Relevanz und Brillanz von Guryans Arbeit. Ein Teil des Erlöses dieses Albums wird für die Bereitstellung von und den Einsatz für erschwingliche reproduktive Gesundheitsdienste gespendet.

Sub Pop and Mudhoney celebrate the barnstorming self-titled debut album by Seattle punk/rock/fuzz/g****e legends Mudhoney, originally released in 1989, with a fresh colored-vinyl pressing. This classic album contains 12 tracks of roaring rock music, including the megahits "This Gift" and "Here Comes Sickness." Mudhoney frontman Mark Arm says "Turn up the tape hiss!!" This special 35th anniversary edition is limited to 1000 copies on Petrol coloured vinyl, YES PETROL, it looks mighty fine, and comes in a single-LP jacket with poster insert!

Most of the writing of Naima Bock's second album, Below A Massive Dark Land, was a solitary affair. It may not sound like it - it's made up of strong, purposeful arrangements with a huge host of musicians, filled with cradling space and warm light. This will also come as a surprise to anyone who has seen Naima perform in the time since the release of her 2022 debut Giant Palm, which was undoubtedly a communal experience. But there's power in the solitary, too. Giant Palm was arranged with collaborator Joel Burton, but going this one alone in search of something that was truly hers, Naima found she was capable of more. "After me and Joel stopped working together", she remembers, "it was an impossibility to even fathom doing arrangements myself but then I started learning violin and it was possible". Finding that she could go it alone was incredibly powerful for Naima: "I think I needed it, to be able to feel proud of something". Beyond the writing process, however, the record is not a stark, stripped back affair. Below_ still has the majesty that made Giant Palm so remarkable. Having tugged the first record down from the skies and spreading it across the earth, Naima finds a newfound vocal power and confidence born from hundreds of hours on stage, and the music sounds fuller, more tangible, and no less enveloping. This can be heard on the album's lead singles: "Kaley" feels fresh and surprising in its rug-pull choppiness but is distinctly Naima in its swinging, jubilant choruses. The accompanying "Further Away" takes a different tack, drawing you in with its simplicity. Finally, the hazy, luxurious beauty of "Feed My Release" draws on the sepia-toned traditions of The Roches, John Prine and Loudon Wainwright III and imbues them with the kind of stark confessional songwriting of Mount Eerie. These are ambitious, rich arrangements that reach deeper and darker lyrically than Giant Palm. Below a Massive Dark Land was predominantly produced by Jack Osborne (Bingo Fury) and Joe Jones, and recorded at The Crypt in north London, with additional production and arrangement by Oliver Hamilton (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective) and Naima herself. Six of the tracks on Below_ were mixed by Jason Agel, with the remainder done by Osborne and Jones. The album was mastered by Kevin Tuffy.

The way you're saying it, "prolific" isn't the right word for The Bug Club. You've got to say it with the trademark Welsh lilt and pay due homage to this inimitable band's origins in the renowned hit factory of Caldicot, South Wales. Do that, and you're about right with how to summarize a group who've released ten singles, two albums, two EPs, three things nobody knew how to describe, and an album under a different band's name, all since 2021, and while playing 200+ gigs a year. Initially comprising the songwriting core of Sam Willmett (vocals/guitar) and Tilly Harris (vocals/bass) with Dan Matthew (drums), The Bug Club started plying their trade in 2016. They were signed by UK label Bingo Records in Autumn of 2020. BBC 6 Music's Marc Riley was an early champion, hammering the single, booking the band in for a session as soon as it was allowed, and rightfully praising songwriters capable of singing the whole alphabet in a two-minute song and making it work. Third LP On The Intricate Inner Workings Of The System - their first for Sub Pop - sees the band serve up a beefy slab of their speciality Modern-Lovers-meets-Nuggets garage rock. There's B-52's call-and-response fun mixed with AC/DC power chord grunt. Leaning towards fast-paced punk, opening double salvo "War Movies" and "Quality Pints" sets out the stall: duel vocal piss-taking, surreal takes on everyday topics that go full circle and become profound, riffs all day long and then all the next day too. "Quality Pints" deals with the pressing concerns of any conscientious touring outfit, taking to heart the rule of the three R's as penned by renowned fellow pints fan Mark E. Smith of The Fall. Repetition, repetition, repetition. If it's that important, which it is, it's worth saying again. "War Movies" dresses distorted chugging with a comprehensive 'best of' list for the genre, with Sam Willmett offering a solo casually chucked out in a way that will make your dad promptly give up any resurgent guitar playing ambitions. And "A Bit Like James Bond" tackles the UK's sleaziest undercover export at the same time as the embarrassing ego problem that besets much of its population - but it's only heavy(ish) in the fun, loads-of-riffs sense. So, that's what they've been finishing up during their massive month-long break from gigs. In a bid to avoid being branded layabouts, The Bug Club will support their upcoming Sub Pop release with a springtime tour of the UK and Europe beginning May 10, before heading out to the US in September.

Doppel-LP auf rotem Vinyl, limitiert auf 2000 Stück. Das lange vergriffene Debütalbum der beliebten Indie-Rock-Band Velocity Girl aus dem Jahr 1993 ist wieder erhältlich, mit einem neuen, von der Band genehmigten Mix und einem kompletten Album mit Bonustracks, das Singles, Outtakes und die Peel Session der Band von 1993 enthält. Velocity Girl gründeten sich etwa 1989 an der Universität von Maryland außerhalb von Washington DC und setzten sich kurz darauf aus Gitarrist Archie Moore (Black Tambourine), Gitarrist Brian Nelson (Black Tambourine), Schlagzeuger Jim Spellman (Starry Eyes, Foxhall Stacks, High Back Chairs, Julie Ocean, Piper Club), Bassist Kelly Riles (Starry Eyes) und Sängerin Sarah Shannon (Starry Eyes, The Not Its) zusammen. Die Band kombinierte englisch inspirierten lärmenden Shoegaze-Fuzz mit rauem US-Indie-Rock und klassischem 60er-Jahre-Pop-Songwriting. Eine Killer-Single auf Slumberland und pausenloses Touren erregten die Aufmerksamkeit der damaligen Indie-Rock-Kenner, und nach einem hitzigen Werben, das sowohl Abendessen als auch Nachtisch beinhaltete, unterzeichneten Velocity Girl in Hoboken, New Jersey einen Vertrag auf einer Motorhaube, und machten Sub Pop zu ihrer Heimat. 1992 begann die Band mit der Arbeit an ihrem Debütalbum "Copacetic" in den Easley Studios in Memphis - einst Heimat der Bar-Kays und anderer klassischer Soul-Bands - unter der Leitung von Bob Weston (Volcano Suns, Shellac), und mischte das Album anschließend mit Weston in Chicago. Obwohl das Album starke Songs enthielt - Popsongs wie "Audrey's Eyes", "Pop Loser" und "Living Well" neben ehrgeizigen Erkundungen wie "Pretty Sister" und "Here Comes" - hatte die Band wenig Erfahrung mit der Produktion und es fehlte ihr an den Fähigkeiten, im Studio "das Boot zu steuern". Infolgedessen war das Album eine eher schlichte Angelegenheit, der es an der Üppigkeit der früheren Aufnahmen mangelte. In den Ohren der Band war das ein Schock, und sie merkten bald, dass dies nicht die Platte war, die sie zu machen hofften. Bob Weston hatte genau das getan, was von ihm verlangt wurde, und die Klänge eingefangen, aber die Band hatte nicht ihren Teil dazu beigetragen, eine klare Vision zu formulieren. Aber die Zeit der Band im Studio war vorbei, und Polvo war gerade aufgetaucht, um an ihrem Album zu arbeiten, also machten sich Velocity Girl auf, um das Video zu Audrey's Eyes" zu drehen. "Copacetic" kam 1993 auf den Markt und die Leute schienen es zu mögen, aber innerhalb der Band gab es ein Gefühl der Enttäuschung bis zu dem Punkt, an dem die meisten Mitglieder es nicht mehr ertragen konnten, die Platte zu hören. Seitdem hat die Band viel über Aufnahmen gelernt, und Archie Moore eine Karriere als Tontechniker eingeschlagen, so dass die Band schließlich beschloss, sich mit "Copacetic" nochmal auseinanderzusetzen. Nach umfangreichen Ausgrabungen tauchten die 2"-Bandspulen im Haus der Mutter von Jims Ex-Frau auf, und im Frühjahr 2023 begann Archie mit der Arbeit an einem Remix. Song für Song entstanden die neuen Abmischungen genau so, wie die Band sie sich vorgestellt hatte. Der erhabene Gesang von Sarah (die am College Oper studiert hat), die klingende Leadgitarre, die saftigen, verwaschenen Rhythmusgitarren und das klare, stampfende Schlagzeug. Die Popsongs sind viel poppiger. Der Klang ist kraftvoller, und die Platte ist ein zusammenhängendes Werk, das von Song zu Song fließt. Der Ansatz war nicht, ein Album zu machen, das nach 2024 klingt, sondern sich auf das Jahr 1992 zurückzubesinnen und das Album zu machen, das die Band damals hätte machen sollen. Das Ergebnis, "UltraCopacetic (Copacetic Remixed and Expanded)", ist eine spannende alternative Geschichte von "Copacetic". Und während sie dabei waren, hat die Band den Rest ihres Studiomaterials aus dieser Zeit ausgegraben und aufgefrischt: "Ultracopacetic" enthält "Warm/Crawl" von der Velocity Girl/Tsunami Split 7", ,Creepy' von der Crazy Town 7", "Stupid Thing" von der Audrey's Eyes 7" und die unveröffentlichte Albumauskopplung ,Even Die'. Abgerundet wird das Ganze durch die komplette John-Peel-Session der Band aus dem Jahr 1993 mit fünf Liedern, darunter zwei Tracks, die seit der ursprünglichen Sendung nicht mehr zu hören waren. "UltraCopacetic" ist wirklich die definitive Version von Velocity Girls erstem Album.

To experience Justin R. Cruz Gallego's pulverizing Sub Pop debut is to get burned down to ashes and burst forth, born anew. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), the Tacoma-based artist's second album, is driven by opposing forces: noisy abstractions and tightly structured beats, anguish and dissolution at the outside world and empowerment within, apathy and catharsis. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra) weds scouring electronics to hooky songs and Gallego's powerful drumming in a way that feels visceral and new. It's his most personal statement to date, at once playful and intent, driven and combustible, total fucking chaos mixed into glints of broken-glass beauty. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Gallego experienced culture shock as a child after relocating to the frigid climes of the Pacific Northwest. He found solace in the Seattle punk scene centered around Iron Lung Records and has since remained a fixture in the underground community. "I see this record as first and foremost a musical statement," Gallego says. "I grew up in punk and DIY subcultures, but before that I had Latin music playing in the background through my childhood and every phase of adolescence. It was surprisingly natural to incorporate. I realized I wanted to go deeper into these rhythms. I wanted to make a record that felt as experimental as much as it felt from the perspective of a Latino. When I got a glimmer of that possibility, it felt exciting." Lead single "Dogear" is a face-melting party starter that sounds like someone forced Talking Heads and Rudimentary Peni to share a practice space. "I wanted a song that felt playful in the way it attempted to be dissonant without taking itself too seriously," Gallego says. "Cholla Beat" is even more ambitious, an anthemic mix of WAR and Wire led by unruly synthesizers spiraling down a labyrinth of production. Gallego's influences for the album are vast, ranging from British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis to electric Miles Davis to audio miscreants like Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never. But it's Gallego's assured sonic vision that resounds the loudest. And, while J.R.C.G. is a solo project, conceived and executed primarily in Gallego's home studio, he found strength in opening the project to others, starting with Seth Manchester as co-producer. Manchester's penchant for bone-rattling frequencies, as seen in his production work with The Body, Battles, and Mdou Moctar, made him a natural fit for Gallego. Together, they retained the intimacy of Gallego's home recordings while taking advantage of the hi-fi stylings of his Machines With Magnets Studio in Rhode Island. The closing song, "World i," offers a glimpse into the live experience of Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), with upwards of seven band members blasting off. The album features a fascinating mix of supporting players, many of whom cycle through J.R.C.G.'s live lineup: Morgan Henderson (The Blood Brothers, Fleet Foxes), Jason Clackley (Dreamdecay, The Exquisites), Jon Scheid (Dreamdecay, U Sco), Erica Miller (Casual Hex, Big Bite), Veronica Dye (Terminator) Phil Cleary (U Sco), and Alex Gaziano (Dreamdecay, Kidcrash, Science Amplification). Taken as a whole, G.I.S.M. is a whirlwind of sound, pummeling, and cleansing. It's a sweaty, thrilling aural adventure and, like a great basement show, it'll leave you breathless, exhausted, and wanting to repeat it all over again. As any good mantra should.

LIMITED INDIES LOSER EDITION PRESSED ON BLUE TRANSPARENT VINYL! Stella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing Up and Away, an old-school pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folk-inflected get-go, we're swept up in Stella's world - and it's quite the captivating place to be. The singer-songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Stella's gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it's clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless. Stella's songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but Up and Away doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record "as if it was a rare gem from the '60s found in a box of records in Athens," and Stella notes she was ready for a more "deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop." The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, "was brilliant at improvising," while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun "brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for Up and Away - I couldn't be more grateful." While not exclusively a confessional artist, Stella is always intimate - when she sings, it's personal. She writes "about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that's there in love and war." Stella was "in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals." And it's true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it's the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Stella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and Up and Away is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record's erotic arc. By the end of the album, Up and Away's core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can't always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it's over, you still feel it for time to come.

Am 28. Juni wird Sub Pop das fünfte und bisher kühnste Album von Washed Out veröffentlichen: „Notes From a Quiet Life“. Die Musik von Washed Out kreierte schon immer eine Art zeitlosen Schwebezustand, mit eindringlichem, amorphem Gesang, weitläufigen Klanglandschaften und wehmütigen Erzählungen. 2021 verließ Ernest Greene, die kreative Kraft hinter Washed Out, die Stadt Atlanta, um in die ländliche Gegend zurückzukehren, in der er aufgewachsen war. Wo früher Eskapismus seine Gedanken durchflutete, beschäftigt er sich heute mit dem Universum der Wunder in der Realität um ihn herum. Die ehemalige Pferdefarm, auf die er gezogen ist, hat er "Endymion" genannt (nach dem pastoralen Gedicht von John Keats über einen von Liebeskummer geplagten Hirten, dessen erste Zeile lautet: "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever"). Sie hat alles geprägt, was er dort geschaffen hat, von seiner Musik über die kreative Ausrichtung des Albums bis hin zu seinen geplanten groß angelegten Experimenten in der bildenden Kunst. Diese Reinheit der Vision ist es, die „Notes From a Quiet Life“ so wirkungsvoll macht. Es ist das erste Album, das Greene komplett selbst produziert hat, mit Unterstützung von Nathan Boddy (James Blake, Mura Masa) und David Wrench (Caribou, Florence + the Machine). Für das Musikvideo zur Leadsingle „The Hardest Part" holte Greene den multidisziplinären Künstler, Autor und Regisseur Paul Trillo ins Boot. Das Video wurde mit Sora von OpenAI erstellt und ist die erste Zusammenarbeit zwischen einem Musiker und einem Filmemacher, die vollständig mit dieser neuen Technologie realisiert wurde.

January 2023, Dorset. Snow is piled at the door, icy roads are closed, and Emily Cross is in a coffin. Not a setting typical for a rebirth. But for Loma, this is where they bring their band back from the brink. "It's like a demon enters the room, whenever we get together", writer, singer and instrumentalist Cross says of the struggle to bring new Loma music into the world. Following the release of their 2020 second album Don't Shy Away, Loma's three members were cast around the globe and the band-not for the first time-entered a deep sleep. Multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Dan Duszynski remained in his studio in Don't Shy Away's central Texas heart, but Cross, a UK citizen, moved to Dorset, and writer and instrumentalist Jonathan Meiburg left the US for Germany to research a book. In the pandemic years, even being in the same room was impossible, and attempts to start a new record faltered. The following winter, in an attempt to salvage the record and the band, Cross suggested they regroup in the UK, in the tiny stone house-once a coffin-maker's workshop-where she works as an end-of-life doula. With minimal recording gear and few instruments, Loma turned two whitewashed rooms into a makeshift studio, using a padded coffin as a vocal booth. It was a turning point. They scrapped much of what they'd made, letting a new place set a new course. The one-lane roads, hedgerows and dark skies of Dorset gave the new songs an ineffable but unmistakable Englishness. The band used the ruin of a 12th-century chapel as a reverb chamber-surprising hillwalkers who peeked in to find them singing to no one-and the sounds of Cross's chilly workshop wormed their way into the recording: a leaky pipe, a drummer's brushes on a metal lampshade, the voices left on an ancient answering machine. What emerged was How Will I Live Without A Body?: a gorgeous, unique, and oddly comforting album about partnership, loss, regeneration, and fighting the feeling that we're all in this alone. Many of its songs have a feeling of restless motion; faceless characters drift through meetings and partings, tangling together and slipping away. "I Swallowed A Stone" is like a nightmare with a happy ending; "How It Starts" and "Broken Doorbell" reflect on the challenge (and necessity) of wrestling with agoraphobia. Though the record nods to the trio's separate lives- a German percussion ensemble, a pair of Texan owls, and the surf at Chesil Beach make guest appearances-the core of Loma's sound remains intact: earthy, organic and deeply human, anchored by Cross's cool, clear voice. Loma's previous album, Don't Shy Away, was galvanized by the unexpected encouragement and contributions of Brian Eno. This time, they found inspiration in another hero, Laurie Anderson, who offered a chance to work with an AI trained on her entire body of work. Meiburg sent her a photo from his book-in-progress about the once and future life of Antarctica; Anderson's AI responded with two haunting poems. "We used parts of them in a few songs," he says. "And then Dan noticed that one of its lines, 'How will I live without a body?' would be a perfect name for the album, since we nearly lost sight of each other in the recording process." In the end, Loma's efforts to reconnect with one another are the album's central focus: what do you owe a shared past, when everyone and everything has changed? "Making this record tested us all," says Duszynski. "I think that feeling was alchemized through the music." Alchemized, because How Will I Live Without A Body? is by no means a stressed-out record: an undercurrent of deep calm runs through it. But maybe 'relaxed' isn't the right word. It's more like a feeling of relief, of making it through a tough journey together.

When Man Man released its last album, "Dream Hunting in the Valley of the In Between," frontman Honus Honus (née Ryan Kattner) was in a state of unrest, oscillating between hope and cynicism. Perhaps fittingly, the album dropped during the pandemic, a time at which we could all relate. But, much like that bizarre turn of events, the ennui now seems so distant to Man Man. A revived sense of purpose washes through Man Man's new album, Carrot on Strings, radiating a mix of calm and confidence. Kattner always embodied a wild-man pied-piper vibe: his melodic, unhinged art-rock was at once intriguing and angsty. He was so alluringly creative that you went along with it, even if you were never sure where Man Man would take you. Carrot on Strings is no less inventive, but its ethos is radical in context of the band's two-decade career. "When I was younger, I would feed off of chaos. I would, you know, be upset and get drunk and smash chairs," Kattner explains. "Now those chairs are in my head: It's less of an outward projection, more of an interior monologue." The name "Carrot on Strings" came to Kattner while experimenting with the sound of someone munching on the vegetable, which you can hear in the cacophonous, similarly named song. It alludes to how success always seemed to dangle uncertainly before him, often just out of reach. But listen intently and you'll hear a more content Kattner finding an uneasy peace: "Life, as far as I've known it, has always been side hustles. Would it be great if I could go into a studio and record for a year without figuring out how to finance it? Yeah, it would be," he says. "But ultimately, I need to keep making music because art is an extension of my psyche. It's how I have learned to translate the palpitations of my heart. Simply put, I'd go insane without it." Growing up as a multiracial Hapa kid (half Filipino, half white) with a father in the U.S. Air Force, Kattner lived an itinerant childhood that included a few pivotal years in Germany, where he honed in on an appreciation for out there German cinema and art. His film obsessions and screenwriting background were crucial to Carrot on Strings. The album nods to the films of Werner Herzog and Rainer Werner Fassbinder as much as Italo-disco, Randy Newman, goth rock, and avant pop. (Kattner continues to work in the film industry with an acting role in the upcoming horror-comedy movie Destroy All Neighbors, for which he also served as composer; music supervising season 1 & 2 of the Interview With The Vampire AMC TV series; and shopping around, with director Matthew Goodhue, a script he wrote that he describes as a Wim Wenders road movie on acid.) In a bid to not overthink anything - his last album took seven years to make - he recorded the bulk of Carrot On Strings in five days in Mant Sounds studio in Glassell Park, Los Angeles with "very chill" producer Matt Schuessler, who had worked on Man Man's cover of Neu!'s "Super" for the seminal Krautrock band's box set. The resulting album represents a newfound sense of self for Kattner, who finds himself inspired and at peace both personally and artistically in ways that eluded him for most of his first 15 years playing music. When, on Carrot On Strings, you hear Kattner croon humbly, or sing of the tension between his outsize stage persona and the thoughtful, soulful guy he actually is, you're hearing Kattner liberate himself. "I first got into music to escape from myself," he says. "And now, it sounds so corny, but I have zero doubt that music ended up saving my life."

"I was in a dream, but now I can see that change is the only law." With a credo adapted from science fiction author Octavia E. Butler, an album title from a collection of metaphysical poetry, and an expansion in consciousness brought on by personal crisis, guitarist and songwriter Shana Cleveland learns to embrace a changing world with unconditional love on News of the Universe, the new full-length from California rock band La Luz. News of the Universe is a record born of calamity, a work of dark, beautiful psychedelia reflecting Cleveland's experience of having her world blown apart by a breast cancer diagnosis just two years after the birth of her son. It's also a portrait of a band in flux, marking the first appearance for drummer Audrey Johnson and the final ones from longtime members bassist Lena Simon and keyboardist Alice Sandahl, whose contributions add a bittersweet edge to a record that is both elegy for an old world and cosmic road map to a strange new one. But is there any band in the world more suited to capturing the chaos of change in all its messy beauty than La Luz? Formed by Cleveland in 2012, La Luz is beloved for their ability to balance bedlam and bliss, each new record another fine-tuning of the band's mix of swaggering riffs with angelic vocals borrowed from doo-wop and folk; a band so reliably great that it makes the huge step forward in confidence and sheer musicality that is News of the Universe all the more formidable. Cleveland, also a writer and painter, has developed into a truly original songwriter with her own canon of haunted psychedelia. Yet if Cleveland has spent years writing songs about ghosts, what lurks in the shadows of News of the Universe is nothing less than death itself. "There are moments on this album that sound to me like the last frantic confession before an asteroid destroys the earth," says Cleveland. The powerful sense of openness that permeates News of the Universe is at least partially due to the fact that it is a record made entirely by women-from the performing, writing, and producing all the way through to the recording, engineering, and mastering. Working with producer Maryam Qudos (Spacemoth), the all-female environment allowed Cleveland to feel safe tapping into difficult places and expressing hard emotions women are socialized to suppress. Unashamedly vulnerable, unabashedly feminine, and undeniably triumphant, News of the Universe is another knockout record from a band so reliably great that it has perhaps led people to overlook how pioneering La Luz really are: women of color in indie music forging their own path by following their own artistic star into galaxies beyond current musical trends, always led by an earnest belief in the cosmic power of love and a great riff. Never is that more true than on News of the Universe, which might be La Luz's most brutal record to date but also their most blissful.

In one sense, it's easy for artists-songwriters, specifically-to express their feelings in their work. After all, that's what the lyrics are for! But it's much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That's precisely why Girl and Girl's Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst's widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime's worth of woes-mental health, the human race's planned obsolescence if you've been living on this cursed rock you know what we're getting at-across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment. An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother's garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James' Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. "It sounded really great," James recalls. "We begged her to stay, and she said, 'I'll stay until you find another drummer.' We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member." After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. "That added to the intensity of the album," James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. "I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that's what it's about-being tense, tied up, and in your own head." Call A Doctor's eleven songs-spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records-are literally plucked from James' personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album's recording. "I've struggled with mental health for a lot of my life," he explains, "and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it." "This record is about an individual who's too far in their head, trying to get out," James continues while discussing Call A Doctor's overall outlook-specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it's important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl's music is. There's a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

In one sense, it’s easy for artists—songwriters, specifically—to express their feelings in their work. After all, that’s what the lyrics are for! But it’s much harder to convey emotional energy in how you play, slash at the guitar, and the structure of the music itself. That’s precisely why Girl and Girl’s Sub Pop debut, Call A Doctor, feels like such a vital, electrifying shock to the senses. Not since the early work of Car Seat Headrest or Conor Oberst’s widescreen emotional brutality as Bright Eyes has indie rock managed to come across as this intimate and grandiose, as the Australian quartet led by Kai James lay a lifetime’s worth of woes—mental health, the human race’s planned obsolescence if you’ve been living on this cursed rock you know what we’re getting at—across a canvas of indie rock that feels both timeless and in-the-moment.

An audacious and aggressively tuneful blast of a record, Call A Doctor is an unforgettable first bow from Girl and Girl, whose origins lie in James and guitarist Jayden Williams jamming in his mother’s garage in the afternoon after school. One afternoon, James’ Aunty Liss headed down to their practice space after walking her dog and asked if she could sit in on drums. “It sounded really great,” James recalls. “We begged her to stay, and she said, ‘I’ll stay until you find another drummer.’ We wore her down, and she eventually became a permanent member.”

After bassist Fraser Bell joined to round things out, Girl and Girl hit the road and began to make a name for themselves beyond the Australian bush, eventually signing to Sub Pop off the strength of word of mouth. Call A Doctor came together quickly soon after, largely recorded in marathon sessions in a two-story industrial complex over the course of two weeks. “That added to the intensity of the album,” James says about the frenzied creative process overseen by producer Burke Reid. “I can hear the stress in the record, which is good because that’s what it’s about—being tense, tied up, and in your own head.”

Call A Doctor’s eleven songs—spanning sweeping guitar epics and wry acoustic shuffles to spiky punk maneuvers and the type of raw, adoringly unvarnished indie-pop associated with legendary PacNW label K Records—are literally plucked from James’ personal history, as he reworked older recordings with newer lyrics reflecting his past struggles as well as new anxieties that emerged prior to the album’s recording. “I’ve struggled with mental health for a lot of my life,” he explains, “and I went through a particularly difficult patch when we were making the album; the band had started to get some attention, and I felt an enormous amount of pressure to live up to it.”

Far from the sound of collapsing under pressure, Call A Doctor finds James and Co. stepping up with their entire collective chest. This is a record that’s so out-and-out alive that you nearly feel like you’re in the same room with Girl and Girl as you listen to it; lead single “Hello” practically bursts through the speakers, amplified by Aunty Liss’ unbelievable stickhandling duties. “‘Hello’ is all about romanticizing your own misery. Letting those deep, dark, dirty thoughts take over. Understanding that even if you could pull yourself out, you wouldn’t because the constant stress and worry is far too familiar and comfortable.”

“Mother” pogos on a spiky groove that’s reminiscent of the geographically close New Zealanders who make up the legendary Flying Nun label, while “Oh Boy” draws from the Shins’ own jangly sound, injected with James’ wonderfully nervy vocals. Then there’s Call A Doctor’s sorta-centerpiece “Maple Jean and the Anthropocene,” a five-minute epic offering a new perspective on climate change and the notion of what it means, in a personal sense, to suffer: “I live in the bushland, and I was driving home one night and hit and killed a wallaby with my car,” James recalls while discussing the song’s lyrical inspiration. “My first thought was, ‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ No remorse, no guilt, just total self-centeredness. Which was like, Woah, you fucking psychopath! This wallaby wasn’t put on this earth to send you a message. That’s what the song is about, our egocentric species - thinking you’re the main character and that everything that happens is somehow about you.”

“This record is about an individual who’s too far in their head, trying to get out,” James continues while discussing Call A Doctor’s overall outlook—specifically the snapshot it offers of its creator. But even though this record deals with uneasy topics we all know well from within ourselves, it’s important to emphasize how teeming with life Girl and Girl’s music is. There’s a brazen, bold sense of humor to this stuff, an undeniable brightness to the darkness that makes it impossible not to be drawn in as a listener. Feeling down never sounded so goddamn good.

"All our dreamers lose to the light" - from "Angels Go Home" When the pandemic began, and the world shut down, so did the process of creating for Iron & Wine's Sam Beam. In its place was a domesticity that the singer hadn't felt in a long time, and although it was filled with many rewards, making music was not one of them. Reflecting on that time, Beam notes: "I feel blessed and grateful that I and most of my friends and family made it through the pandemic relatively unscathed compared to so many others, but it completely paralyzed the songwriter in me. The last thing I wanted to write about was COVID, and yet every moment I sat with my pen, it lingered around the edges and wouldn't leave. This lasted for over two years." The journey back began with a recording session in Memphis to record a handful of Lori McKenna tracks for the EP Lori with friend and producer Matt Ross-Spang. The cathartic experience reconnected Beam with his love for making music, and soon enough the paralysis had passed, and he was finishing lyrics and booking studio time for what would become Light Verse. Light Verse was recorded with engineer and mixer Dave Way at his studio Waystation high up in Laurel Canyon (with an additional session at Silent Zoo Studio with a 24-piece orchestra), with a host of talented musicians joining Beam: Tyler Chester, Sebastian Steinberg, David Garza, Griffin Goldsmith, Beth Goodfellow, Kyle Crane, and Paul Cartwright. And, Fiona Apple joined Beam on vocals for the duet "All In Good Time." Beam lyrically once again takes focus on a series of both fictional and personal insights, filled with desperate characters and wide-eyed optimists, offering promise and a dose of heartache, tears and laughter, life and love. Taking stock in the album's title, he jokes, "Light verse is a form of poetry about playful themes that often uses nonsense and wordplay, and it's my first official Iron & Wine comedy album!_. Just kidding_." While true this may be Iron & Wine's most playful record, Beam says the title mostly reflects the way the songs were born with joy after the heaviness and anxiety of the pandemic. Where recent records like Beast Epic or Weed Garden gave air to the disquiet of middle-aged frailty and brokenness, these songs trade that for the focus acceptance can bring. Moment by moment, they delight in being pointed or silly (or both) and attempt beauty over prettiness. Light Verse arrives April 26th, and it's Iron & Wine's seventh full-length overall and fifth for Sub Pop Records. Fashioned as an album that should be taken as a whole, it sounds lovingly handmade and self-assured as a secret handshake. Track by track, its equal parts elegy, kaleidoscope, truth, and dare.

You get older, you have a family, and you start to slow down-that's how things are supposed to go, right? Not for Montreal band Corridor, who have returned on their fourth album, Mimi, with a sound and style that's more widescreen and expansive than anything that's preceded it. The follow-up to 2019's Junior is a huge step forward for the band, as the members themselves have undergone the type of personal changes that accompany the passage of time; even as these eight songs reflect a newfound and contemplative maturity, however, Corridor are branching out more than ever with richly detailed music, resulting in a record that feels like a fresh break for a band that's already established themselves as forward-thinkers. Mimi immediately recalls the best of the best when it comes to indie rock-Deerhunter's silvery atmospherics immediately come to mind, as well as the spiky effervescence of classic post-punk-but despite these easy comparisons, Corridor remain impossible to pin down from song to song, which makes Mimi all the more thrilling as a listen. "The goal was to work differently, which is the goal we have every time we work on a new album-to build something in a new way," Robert explains. "This time, we took our time." And so in the summer of 2020, Corridor's members-Robert, vocalist/bassist Dominic Berthiaume, drummer Julien Bakvis, and multi-instrumentalist Samuel Gougoux-holed away in a cottage to engage in the sort of creative experimentation that would lead to Mimi's ultimate creation. Corridor tinkered with the songs' raw parts digitally and remotely over the next few years, with co-producer Joojoo Ashworth (Dummy, Automatic) lending their own specific talents in the theoretical booth. The process was a byproduct of not having access to their rehearsal space due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but also a result of the four-piece leaning harder into incorporating electronic textures than on previous records. "For a long time, we identified as a guitar-oriented band, and the goal of making this whole record was trying to get away from that," Berthiaume states. Berthiaume also describes Mimi as a record about "getting older" and "figuring out new parts of life"-but despite any claims of transitional growing pains from the band, Mimi is a record bursting with new energy and life, a vibrance that's owed in no small part to Gougoux joining the band full-time after pitching in on live performances in the past. "I come more from a background of electronic music, so it was nice to involve that with the band more," he explains, and Mimi contains a distinct rhythmic pulse reminiscent of classic era-post-punk's own melding of dance and rock textures. Over bright, chiming guitars and ascending synths, Robert addresses his looming mortality on "Mourir Demain": "I wrote it when my girlfriend and I were shopping for life insurance," he laughs. With our little daughter growing up, we also considered making our will. I said to myself, 'Oh shit, from now on I'm slowly starting to plan my death." Don't mistake this as music about dead ends, though, as Mimi embraces and champions unfettered creativity while paving a way for Corridor's own bright future. "We just focused on making a record that sounded the way we wanted," Gougoux exclaims while discussing the band's aims. "There were no limitations when it came to what was possible."

With time, we come to understand the way the joy of connection is mirrored by the void of loss, how the constancy of love is matched only by the impermanence of life, the simple idea that we could not create light if we did not risk the dark - we'd never need to. So it is with METZ, a band once known for blowing out eardrums with songs of joyous rage who have, over their past few records, begun exploring ways to turn abrasiveness into atmospherics, the evolution of their sound not only a reflection of the maturing of the band themselves but also of a changed world that demands nuance and compassion to comprehend and to survive. It was a journey already underway on 2020's Atlas Vending, but one that reaches new heights on Up On Gravity Hill, where the Canadian trio creates a kaleidoscopic sonic world as tender as it is dark, aided once again by engineer Seth Manchester (Mdou Moctar, Lingua Ignota, Battles, The Body). Deep, detailed, and unyieldingly personal, it is not only METZ's most powerful record to date but also their most beautiful. Still three punks from Ontario at heart, guitarist and vocalist Alex Edkins, drummer Hayden Menzies, and bassist Chris Slorach waste no time as opener "No Reservation/Love Comes Crashing" sweeps in like a wave, sonically and thematically setting the scene for the record to come. A dynamic song about feeling suspended in stasis, layers of dissonance melt into a restlessly heady outro marked by escalating crescendos of shimmering noise that reach for the stars - and is that a violin quivering brightly beneath those elegant swells of guitar, those charging drum fills, those intricate bass lines? It is indeed, courtesy of composer Owen Pallett; his presence an immediate indicator that METZ are thinking more cinematically than ever before. The change is partially inspired by Edkins' work as a scorer for film and television and his pop-leaning solo project, Weird Nightmare, where, he says, he learned to write more intuitively, letting his emotions lead the way. But make no mistake: Up On Gravity Hill is a total band effort, the work of three musicians who have been playing together for over a decade, with all the trust that entails. For those who believe in the power of the rock band to exemplify the highest resonance of human connection, there is much on Up On Gravity Hill to lift the spirit, a puzzle worth repeated listening to unlock or just to get lost in again and again. Rather than the music being flattened into a single plane, the band explores "the space above the cymbals," resulting in some of the most spacious, sympathetic, and accessible songs - could we call them pop? - of their career. If this seems contradictory, well, METZ has always been something of a contradiction. "We've never been heavy enough for metal or hardcore purists, but we're way too heavy for indie rock. We just don't have a lane - and that's okay. We exist outside the lines of delineation. I think this record is even more like that," says Edkins.

What Do We Do Now is the fifth solo studio LP recorded by J Mascis since 1996. This is obviously not a very aggressive release schedule, but when you figure in the live albums, guest spots, and records done with his various other bands (Dinosaur Jr., The Fog, Heavy Blanket, Witch, Sweet Apple, and so on), well, to paraphrase Lou Reed, "J's week beats your year." What Do We Do Now began to come together during the waning days of the Pandemic. Utilizing his own Bisquiteen Studio, J started working on writing a series of tunes on acoustic with a different dynamic than the stuff he creates for Dino. "When I'm writing for the band," he says, "I'm always trying to think of doing things Lou and Murph would fit into. For myself, I'm thinking more about what I can do with just an acoustic guitar, even for the leads. Of course, this time, I added full drums and electric leads, although the rhythm parts are still all acoustic. Usually, I try to do the solo stuff more simply so I can play it by myself, but I really wanted to add the drums. Once that started, everything else just fell into place. So it ended up sounding a lot more like a band record. I dunno why I did that exactly, but it's just what happened." Two guest musicians are playing this time out; Western Mass local Ken Mauri (of the B52s) plays piano on several tracks. Since J himself has some experience with keys, when asked why he needed a hired gun, he says, "Ken is great, and he plays all the keys. I tried playing some keyboards on the first Fog album, but I'm really only comfortable playing the white notes, so it's kind of limiting. laughs Nowadays, I could just turn the pitch on a mini Mellotron to play different sounds, but black keys just seem hard. For whatever reason, I just like banging on the white ones. Seems like it's harder to figure out how to stretch your fingers around the other ones." Mauri has no such qualms and plays all the keys very damn well. He sounds especially great on "I Can't Find You," where he is Jack Nitzsche to J's Neil Young, creating one of the album's loveliest tunes. The other guest musician, Matthew "Doc" Dunn, is also prominent on this track. Dunn's steel guitar manages to both widen and soften the musical edges of the music, giving it a full classicist profile. Dunn is an Ontario-based polymath who J met through Matt Valentine. After J played on Doc's great 2022 Sub Pop single, "Your Feel," he figured it was time for payback. Both Dunn and Mauri add beautifully to the songs here, helping to transform them from acoustic sketches into full-blown post-core power ballads. What Do We Do Now is the finest set of solo tunes J has yet penned, and the way they're presented is just about perfect. Asked if he would be touring to support the album, J says he'll be doing some weekend dates, but he probably won't be putting a band together. And I'm sure these songs will sound great solo and acoustic, but the arrangements on this album are truly great and put a cool, different spin on Mascis' instantly Recognizable approach to making music. So, what do we do now? Not sure. But apparently, what J does is to make one of his most killer records ever. Hats off to him. - Byron Coley

ORANGE VINYL

Daniel Boeckner understands the grit and gravel that accumulates in the heart and that it takes an unwavering courage to crack through that clutter and burrow to the other side. And in Boeckner's hands, that quest comes via post-apocalyptic synth and guitar heroism, a rallying cry for those always coming home through the scorched clouds. Throughout his work with Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs, Divine Fits, Operators, Atlas Strategic, and more, the iconic Canadian indie rocker recognizes that few feelings are more gratifying-more memorable, more generative, more abundant-than hope. But it takes getting the hell out of your own way. A culmination of that deep library of musical reference, Boeckner is set to release his first album under his own name: Boeckner! No matter where his genre exploration has taken him, there's something about growing up in punk and DIY spaces that puts collaboration in Boeckner's blood. Composed of a collection of intimately familiar elements, Boeckner! elicits the same thrill of young passion and discovery. It's a jet-powered chase through a tech-noir cityscape-fueled by a dream and that special someone in the passenger seat. That urgency and passion have always been a trademark of Boeckner's, and writing on his own pushes those feelings further into the center of the scope. But while Boeckner may be the clear driving force behind the album, he's not without collaborators for his solo debut. After meeting producer Randall Dunn while contributing to the soundtrack to the Nicolas Cage-starring psychedelic horror film Mandy, Boeckner knew he'd found the perfect counterpart for his solo debut. "I'd been a fan of his forever, especially the Sunn0))) records he produced," Boeckner says. "Working with Randall really unlocked some suppressed musical urges, things that I enjoy in my private life but don't normally weave into what I'm releasing-like occult synth, pseudo-metal, krautrock, and heavy psych influences." That base allows Boeckner to thoughtfully weave between emotional imagism and more grounded storytelling. Throughout the record, his imagery delves into science fiction, but it's charged first and foremost by experience. The trio of Boeckner, Dunn, and drummer Matt Chamberlain (Pearl Jam, David Bowie, Fiona Apple) formed a sort of dark engine for the album, and Chamberlain's ingenious approach of triggering a vintage Arp synthesizer simultaneously with each drum track helped Boeckner shape the record's atmosphere. That tense futurism was influenced by Boeckner's time staying in Dunn's Circular Ruin studio, a dusky, electronic aura burned into every track. By the end of the album, Boeckner! eases from sci-fi epic into something more akin to a torched VHS copy of a John Cassevetes film, the chemtrails and nuclear fallout fading long in the distance. Like all good sci-fi, the emotion and pain hits home for the author and listener alike, and the genre flourishes bolster the human experience. In revealing more than ever before, Boeckner! ratchets up the musical intensity to unforeseen levels and hopes to find some peace at the end of the journey.

Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson

Pissed Jeans has never been a band that goes halfway-they're known for their feral vocals, biting lyrics, buzzsaw guitars, and unhinged live shows, and their sixth album, Half-Divorced is no exception. These songs skewer the tension between youthful optimism and the sobering realities of adulthood, and when viewed through frontman Matt Korvette's scowl, everything takes on a level of violent absurdity. Pissed Jeans' notorious acerbic sense of humor remains sharper than ever as they dismember some of the joys that contemporary adult life has to offer, from helicopter parents to stolen catalytic converters to being $62,000 in debt. On "Seatbelt Alarm Silencer," Korvette growls, "Call it a death drive but that ain't fair / Drive implies I'm headed somewhere." Korvette, Brad Fry (guitar), Randy Huth (bass), and Sean McGuinness (drums) weren't in any rush to finish Half-Divorced, which was recorded by Don Godwin at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland. "We're not the kind of band that bangs out a new record every two years," Korvette said. "Pissed Jeans is truly like an art project for us, which is what makes it so fun." This lack of restraint rages within the songs that unexpectedly veer into classic hardcore punk territory-often coming in at under two minutes long and erupting like the "butane tank explosion" Korvette sings about in "Junktime." In the last song, "Moving On," Korvette sneers, "Cheesing into my camera phone / Pretending that I'm not alone / Life's the first thing that we all postpone." One gets the sense that Pissed Jeans refuses to "postpone" life in quite the same way-life, like art, is something that happens now, not later. - Chelsea Hodson

The music of Atlanta trio Omni has always swung fast and hit hard. And Souvenir, their fourth album and second for Sub Pop, packs their biggest punch yet. Inactive during the majority of the pandemic-the longest downtime in their history-they approached this recording with lots of pent-up energy. Guitarist Frankie Broyles, singer/bassist Philip Frobos, and drummer Chris Yonker converted their creative fuel into sharp, driving songs that land immediately, sporting chopping riffs, staccato beats, and wiry melodies. Why does Souvenir sound so sharp? Because each track is a compact unit that stands on its own, reflecting the time and place in which it was created. That's why Omni called the album Souvenir: it's a collection of audio objects, a stash of musical miniatures. Think of it as a family photo album, a binder of rare playing cards, a shoebox holding precious gems. Take "Plastic Pyramid," the first song Omni wrote after coming out of lockdown. Filled with twists and turns, it's a journey unto itself, charged by clanging chords, spinning rhythm, and Frobos trading lines with Izzy Glaudini of Automatic, with whom Omni toured with last fall. (Glaudini sings on two other Souvenir tracks, the first guest vocalist the band has collaborated with). Or take opener "Exacto," a slicing web of intertwined guitar and bass. Its razor-fine notes and syncopated beats perfectly match pointillist Frobos lyrics such as "Exacto, de facto, concise, quite right"-a line that could well be an Omni mantra. The precision and clarity of Souvenir comes from some new Omni developments. For one, this is their first album with Yonker as their full-time drummer, and his forceful playing adds exclamation points to every pointed moment on Souvenir. In addition, the trio worked with Atlanta-based engineer Kristofer Sampson for the first time. Sampson pushed the band to a higher degree of power, with Frobos's vocals more upfront in his pulsing mix and the rest of the music leaping out of the speakers. You might notice that Frobos' singing is a bit more emotional and even nostalgic this time around. In crafting his vocals, he was inspired by the early college radio rock of formative favorites like REM, the Cure, and Big Audio Dynamite-the kind of bands whose melodies could have been top 40 hits in an alternative universe. The lyrics on Souvenir are also by turns funny, absurd, and even cryptic. A wry humor has always coursed through Omni's songs, and this time, it comes in shades of both dark and light. In "Granite Kiss," an "astronomical" love story concludes with the hope that "we can decay together," while in "PG," a romantic walk in the park includes a rose-colored mugging. Immediacy rushes throughout every moment of Souvenir, making it the band's most powerful album to date. Omni has truly crafted a musical keepsake-a set of songs that you'll want to keep close, an aural memento you'll cherish for the rest of time.