quête:persona

Unique, Bold & Scottish - The LaFontaines are back with their fourth studio album, Business As Usual.

Business As Usual sees the band back from a short hiatus to bring you their most personal and vulnerable record yet.

Having been together since their teens, Kerr Okan (vocals), Jamie Keenan (drums, vocals) and Darren McCaughey (guitars, production) know their audience and have honed their sound to deliver their message in the most direct way possible.

The bands personality, charm and charisma shines through their output, which coupled with their already unrivaled unique offering has earned them a dedicated, loyal fanbase - who identify with the band through more than just the music.

Their live shows are their superpower – a guaranteed good time which sees the band connect with their audience on a level that most live acts never achieve. There is no one like The LaFontaines.

Rising from the fiercely DIY Philadelphia underground, CARLY COSGROVE graft achingly vulnerable lyrics atop a bed of mathy rhythms, intricate guitar work and a penchant for indie-rock cool meets emo authenticity. Their debut album, 2022's See You In Chemistry, was the sound of figuring life out in real time, tracing personal growth through anxiety, depression, and self-actualization - heavy subjects for a band originally formed as a low-stress side-project stopgap in 2018.

The quest for the answers to life's big questions is once again front and center on the band's second album, THE CLEANEST OF HOUSES ARE EMPTY, as Naylor, bassist Helen Bars and drummer Tyler Kramer find themselves face to face with the chronic emotional struggles of life in the modern age.

From the stop-start polyrhythms of first single "You Old Dog" and garage-rock sheen of "Random Dancing" and "What Are You, A Cop," which sounds like Motion City Soundtrack filtering "Everlong" through their idiosyncratic rock tilt, The Cleanest Of Houses is the type of record Carly Cosgrove simply couldn't have made last time - not musically, and certainly not emotionally. They needed to live, through hard touring and harder life experiences.

Sugaray Rayford is a man with a message and a larger than life personality and voice to deliver it

Working with producer, songwriter Eric Corne for the past 3 albums, the soul-blues powerhouse has crafted an incendiary sound and narrative, combining classic soul melodies and funky R & B grooves with raw blues power.

The pair's first collaboration, 'Somebody Save Me', earned Rayford a 2020 Grammy nomination. Later that year he took home Blues Music Awards for 'Soul Blues Male Artist' and 'B.B. King Entertainer of the Year.' Rayford's follow up In Too Deep won a plethora of awards including the Blues Music Award for 'Soul Blues Album of the Year'.

His new release is entitled 'Human Decency'. The title track is a simple reminder that our similarities are stronger than our differences and in the end, there is no black or white or left or right, there are only hearts and minds.

About the leadoff single, "Run For Cover" a song that takes no prisoners, Q Magazine declares, "The bluesey soul of Rayford comes on full steam with this powerhouse single."

"We're calling people on their bullshit but we're having fun with them. That's my way. I'm gonna tell it to you straight but with love in my heart. I always bring some suga with the salt!" says Sugaray, bellowing with laughter.

An all-star cast lent their talents to the album, including guitarist Rick Holmstrom and singer Saundra Williams who are both from Mavis Staples's band, along with bassist Taras Prodaniuk (Lucinda Williams, Merle Haggard).

Tim Burton’s 2005 adaptation of Roald Dahl’s classic children’s book was conceived as long ago as 1991 and was in development for several years before Burton was involved in the production. He immediately brought regular collaborators Johnny Depp and Danny Elfman aboard.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory represents the first time since The Nightmare Before Christmas that Elfman contributed to a film score using written songs and his vocals. The film was released to critical praise and was a box office success, grossing $475 million worldwide.
The wonderfully quirky melodic score and songs from one of Hollywood’s great composers harks back to Edward Scissorhands, Burtons’ and Elfman’s most personal work, and is a return to the composer’s “vintage” sound from the late 1980s and early 1990s.
First released on vinyl in 2015, this latest edition brings the popular soundtrack back to vinyl on Marshmallow Pink and Chocolate Brown Vinyl.

“It was more fun than I ever had working on a movie. It was so crazy and doing all the vocals was so much fun. I found myself falling into voices, singing vocal mannerisms. I was having such a gas.”
- Danny Elfman

One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.



There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t Feelin’ Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.



Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ’60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album Bitches Brew.



But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.



Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I’m Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie’s science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual “Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him” (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like “Don’t Call Her No Tramp” and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of “He Was A Big Freak.”

A Haunted Tongue is the third album by Colossal Squid, the solo project of producer/virtuoso drummer Adam Betts (Goldie, Squarepusher, Melt Yourself Down, Jarvis Cocker). The first self-titled Colossal Squid album (2016) was intended by Betts as a way of exploring the process of creating music from purposefully limited tools (a drumkit and electronica) and finding a place where technology and live performance could happily meet. In comparison, the second album Swungert (2019) acted as a chance to see if the music written from that same process could be moulded (via collaboration and editing) into something more traditionally recognisable as a ‘song’. A Haunted Tongue moves things on one step further, letting the process and approach fade into the background, freeing Betts to balance a million inspirations (early 90s Warp, rave tapes, Nubian drumming, Indonesian gabba…) and filter them through an anything-goes punk aesthetic that results in a feeling of freedom that is both refreshing and rare. Betts has spoken of “a recurring dream of a stranger trying to get across an important message but not talking in any discernible language” that guided these recordings. This feels appropriate to the listener – the language of A Haunted Tongue isn’t straightforward or easily classified but yet the message is clearly understood and embraced by the listener at a primal level. That message is one of hope - channelling the shared euphoria of communal musical experience and searching for an uncynical and personal expression of positive energy that can move people and resonate with them. “A while back we had a chat with JR Moores, he was doing a Bandcamp piece on the label. We mentioned we wished we did more rave-related releases. Within seconds we had the Johnny Broke album in our inbox. Johnny Broke is actually Wayne Adams. Wayne messaged and told us about Adam Betts (AKA Colossal Squid). And here we are, dealing with someone who drums for Squarepusher and Goldie. Both Chris and I have the biggest love for 90s rave music. For me (Joe) I'm listening to an alternative world that I was old enough for but missed out on. I knew the music but didn't have the knowledge to drive around the M25 looking for the fields. It's a history I don't quite have but feel like I do. It's like the Beatles: known all my life but no idea why. It's cut into our DNA. It was our punk rock but we missed it. This Colossal Squid album, no matter how many times I listen to it, brings something new every time. And it makes me feel like I'm finally there” – Wrong Speed HQ

For the most part, J.R. omits the county, americana, and folk influences heard on All Blue though there is a shock of recognition in the always surprising power and pure tone of her voice. Rich in melody and early confidence, Julianna Riolino here draws from classic girl- group pop and contemporary indie while establishing a
characteristic song- writing template of interpreting foundational texts and iconography to portray uniquely personal experiences and emotional truths. "It's like it's who you are before you grow more" she says of J.R. now. It's an important step in the formation of an important and thrilling artist, and one of today's greatest singers. J.R. is available on Black or Yellow vinyl (indie-only).

Unio Mystica: Absorbed from my room onto a triangle ship, by an alien wearing blue scaled bio-armour, to travel instantaneously across vast folds of time & space. The alien occupied the pinnacle of the triangle, the other two points by myself and an unknown human female, respectively. The ship, at least for this type of journey, was powered by harnessing the coalescent, universal force of LOVE. This truly hierogamic union acted as a sort of inter-dimensional transcendence driver, which allowed us the defeat of all material boundary and therefore, time itself. It was a keen insight into the ultimate conciliation: that love permeates and binds together an otherwise cold and hostile universe. And perhaps it was not an "alien" but an angel. Angels are traditionally understood to be preternaturally photonic (of a type), lacking physical densification, and which manifest themselves as various imaginal forms in the human psyche... What is known: the starship is ours; a portal of two souls combined. - personal log, entry #3073, 07/14/2017

My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross, ANOHNI"s sixth studio album, expresses a world view by shape-shifting through a broad range of subject matter. Through a personal lens, ANOHNI addresses loss of loved ones, inequality, alienation, acceptance, cruelty, ecocide, devastation wrought by Abrahamic theologies, Future Feminism, and the possibility that we might yet transform our ways of thinking, our spiritual ideas, our societal structures, and our relationships with the rest of nature. On her first full album since 2016"s HOPELESSNESS, she explains the creative process was painstaking, yet also inspired, joyful, and intimate, a renewal and a renaming of her response to the world as she sees it. "Some of these songs respond to global and environmental concerns first voiced in popular music over 50 years ago." ANOHNI"s approach since her last record has shifted from someone tasked with challenging global denial, to an artist seeking to support others on the front lines. "I learned with HOPELESSNESS that I can provide a soundtrack that might fortify people in their work, in their activism, in their dreaming and decision-making. I can sing of an awareness that makes others feel less alone, people for whom the frank articulation of these frightening times is not a source of discomfort but a cause for identification and relief. On "It Must Change," ANOHNI soulfully describes systems in collapse with a note of compassion for humanity: "The truth is I always thought you were beautiful in your own way // That"s why this is so sad." ANOHNI"s voice is sensual and smoothed, selectively reaching to the edges of what it can contain. "We"re not getting out of here // No one"s getting out of here // This is our world," she murmurs. A portrait of legendary human rights activist Marsha P. Johnson taken by Alvin Baltrop features on the cover, reflecting a 25-year relationship with the memory of Johnson that ANOHNI has held space for in the presentation of her own work. Elsewhere, the album artwork states "IT"S TIME TO FEEL WHAT"S REALLY HAPPENING". In some ways it feels as if she is reaching across her life"s expression, and has found a moment of unique composure, wearing her long exploration of disarming intensity, with the maturity of a painter carefully choosing her colors. "I want the work to be useful, to help others move through these conversations we are now facing, to move with dignity and resilience through this bitter dawning."

GRAMMY-award nominated Jordan Rakei is a renowned multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, producer, and songwriter who, over soon-to-be-five studio albums, has been on a wide-ranging journey that explores the outer reaches of his inner psyche, traversing themes of emotional evolution, personal growth and family with unwavering sincerity.

Always positioning himself in and amongst the bigger questions in life, he has navigated his musical journey with passion and precision, unveiling something new about himself through his songwriting at every turn. The Loop is by far Rakei’s most cohesive and evolutionary work to date following an impressive career of previous releases, each of which have demonstrated his natural curiosity and capabilities in exploring new sounds.

'Quintela', the debut album by Carme López, a performer, teacher and researcher of traditional oral music from Galicia, is a new experimental work for Galician bagpipe. Influenced by the approach of composers like Éliane Radigue or Pauline Oliveros, the Spanish composer creates slowly modulating sound environments, and stretches the sonic the possibilities of the bagpipe to its absolute limit. 'Quintela' is structured in four movements, plus a prologue and an epilogue, which serve as a link to the contemporary language of the instrument.

The bagpipe is strongly tied to traditional musics; its use in different genres and musical contexts is extremely limited and unimaginative. 'Quintela' brings it to a wholly unknown field, decontextualising the bagpipe in order to elevate a personal approach, and leaving behind its male-dominated past (in which it relates to ideas of prestige, dominance or carries even sexual connotations). López expertly demonstrates its grandeur and breadth; the music on 'Quintela' ranges from barely audible sounds of air passing through the hide bag through rhythmical use of its reeds to all-encompassing drones with complex harmonic structures and vibrant overtones.

The narrative arc focuses on the composer's past, its people and places, and could be conceived as a journey in and of itself. A homage to those in our memories, but also a step into the unknown, 'Quintela' is an ambitious, graceful and captivating debut.

A home, a house, has countless frequencies. Each room, each corner feels different. Swings differently. And as you grow older, you realize which corner is yours. But yeah, it takes time…

It certainly marks the end of an era when the house one called home as a kid no longer exists. This home, it was the starting point of so many journeys. Of one big, ongoing journey. And so it feels good, soothing, reassuring to at least return to a spot nearby – to that (proverbial) hill from where you can see it. Feel the vibe that made you.

Andi Haberl’s debut solo album as Sun is sort of dedicated to that house. It’s a journey leading to that hill overlooking everything that made him. It’s not about nostalgia, not about actually returning to a specific place. Instead, it’s about finding a personal frequency, an overlapping of sounds and samples, an open space that mirrors and extends whatever frequencies felt right at different points in time.

“To me, the results feel like Gold Panda/Four Tet meets Steve Reich meets Krautrock meets film scores. I just really wanted to create moods that touch me – and ideally others, too.”

Talking about his first solo album, Haberl recalls many stages: early compositions that ended up on Alien Ensemble’s albums, early DIY/home studio/multi-instrumentalist inspirations (Le Millipede), new technologies that came and went, even a set of wildly convincing arrangements (done with Cico Beck’s crucial input) that ultimately became stepping stones for yet another round of DIY takes. “It was a long, recurring process, and the songs went through so many different versions,” he says, talking about phases of growth (“I added more and more equipment over time”) and pruning, “cleaning up my music a bit.” Tending towards instruments that open up space, and slowly falling in love with sampling, he certainly didn’t rush things once it was time for interior design decisions ;)

“During this whole process I got to learn so much about my own taste, how I prefer to listen to the pieces, which musical elements really matter to me… and what my own voice is. For example, that acoustic elements are most important to me: the banjo, piano, drums, my voice, glockenspiel, trumpet, melodica. Anything that opens up some space.”

Every journey begins with a search: “Missing” with its plucked chords opens like a sunrise over pastoral plains, gently leading the way towards the intricate, playful explosion that occurs once a certain amount of energy (“Sun”) hits dirt and other surfaces: things grow, clot and curdle into new shapes, like new buds; layers of sound move forward, drenched in Spring’s new light. Relying on samples to ask for precipitation (“Rain On Me”), robotic “Low” goes from barren to bass-heavy after its midway shift in pace, full of loops plucked from the shade.

Towards the album’s midpoint, things are suddenly reversed: “Cluster” has that backwards pull, you can’t tell what’s what, yet everything is perfectly locked in, as the pace increases once again. And before the title song shimmers with densified cheering (to eventually stand tall like early Lymbyc Systym), “Beside Me” swipes you off your feet with its booming bass drum. The beat returns once again (“Daydream”), full of searching voices underneath, and at “Dawnday,” we can finally catch a melancholy view of the house. Voices hum. It’s the score moment of the album. Everything makes sense now. A happy end of sorts?

“I want to take people on a journey. A personal journey, too, because when my parents split up and sold the house I grew up in, I felt a bit like the ground had fallen out from under my feet. But I have dedicated the album title and the accompanying piece to this house… so I can keep it in good memory.”

“I Can See Our House From Here” has been a long time coming. It’s been a long journey. Homeward-bound. Leading to a place that’s really Haberl’s – his sound. His frequencies.

Known as a long-time member of The Notwist and various other bands/projects (Alien Ensemble, AMEO, jersey, Ditty etc.), Berlin-based drummer/composer Andi Haberl has also worked with My Brightest Diamond, Till Brönner, Owen Pallet, and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name a few. “I Can See Our House From Here” is his first solo offering.

Plasma Color Vinyl. 'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

'The way Bloomsday's Iris James Garrison writes songs feels like somewhere between a mirror and a memory. Spacious, full-bodied folk songs, they are an ode to things that are good no matter how small; they sometimes feel like the ghost of a Mary Oliver poem. Bloomsday's new record, 'Heart of the Artichoke', is a relic of unfettered creativity and community. They recount the miracles of the mundane, the memories that become sacred, an ode to all that is holy: nightswimming, songs plucked from the ether, the ways friendship can endure. Like earlier Bloomsday songs, the work here is threaded with warmth; it's simmering, crisp and deeply human, an encapsulation of the present moment. Recorded across 10 days in June 2023 in upstate New York at duo Babehoven's studio and co-produced by Babehoven's Ryan Albert, with mixing by Henry Stoehr of Slow Pulp. The record was built out with a wideranging group of collaborators, including inventive drumming from Andrew Stevens (Lomelda, Hovvdy), Alex Harwood, Richard Orofino, Babehoven's Maya Bon, Hannah Pruzinsky (h.pruz, Sister.), and Chris Daley. It was an insulated and collaborative experience: all family dinners on the back porch, bonfires, feeling a full sense of joy, of friendship, of purity in the artistic self. Collaboration is an integral part of Bloomsday's musical process. Garrison is malleable in the studio, their songwriting generous and spacious. But in listening to the record, there's a sense that Garrison leaves room for the players, for the listener; for songs to find the shapes they're meant to take. Garrison's role as maestro is crucial, singular - it's a collaborative, exploratory spirit harnessed by Garrison's intuition, and by an honest commitment to carve out creative space for play, to delve into what's known - or pushing past that, into unknown. "The ghosts of the past still come up and haunt me," Garrison says, "but I sit in what I have and see it. All of these songs are about loved ones, about personal struggles with getting out of my head and being present." Heart of the Artichoke was written from a healed, matured place - written in a moment of safety from chaos. It's a prayer for the present, an appreciation of tenderness and what happens once we give ourselves the space to really see, and really feel - becoming free and whole - an ode to the way healing allows us to bloom.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

"Remembering is not the opposite of forgetting," Casey MQ sings at the start of Later that day, the day before, or the day before that, his new LP and Ghostly International debut. It's a phrase fittingly misremembered from something the LA-based, Canadian-born composer came upon as he spiraled into unconscious and subconscious-led writing sessions at the piano. Casey's known for his 2020 breakthrough release babycasey, which gave voice to songs seen through the lens of childhood, various film score work and collaborations with artists such as Oklou (who returns here), Eartheater, and Vagabon. His gifts as a producer and songwriter are rooted in textural world-building and the excavation of personal truth. With Later that day... he questions what is true entirely, understanding our mind's tendency to bend and project onto pictures of the past. Across vivid, baroque pop balladry, Casey MQ reorients his recording project and point of view under the notion that memories are malleable. All the joy, pain, love, and loss housed within remembrance is open to interpretation and deconstruction, which he does deftly, with curiosity and complete artistic freedom. "It's a memory album," Casey puts it simply, winding up for the deeper unpacking, "and it might be a breakup album, too_there are more questions than answers." Engaging his dreams and sitting with sheet music at his newly acquired piano, he looked to new and old inspirations including the works of Claude Debussy, Joni Mitchell, and Joe Hisaishi's beloved Studio Ghibli film scores. "Since I was young, I always wanted to write a piano album." babycasey's studied electronic sound isn't wholly abandoned on Later that day... instead, it comes through like an atmosphere, giving Casey's more spacious, minimal arrangements a distinct luster and sheen. The textures and tones shift from song to song as if mirroring the way our minds constantly recontextualize, remember, and forget. Cathartic opener "Grey Gardens" _ its title derived from a dream abstractly related to the Toronto restaurant, but not the 1975 film, which he cites as another coincidental false memory _ presents the record's plaintive, haunted feeling. "Even if not reading into lyrics, sonically I wanted it to feel like you're being pulled into a universe. Not fantasy or otherworldly per se, something more tangible, of the body and mind," Casey says. "Hearing it back, I realized this track was the key to unlocking it." His tender falsetto hovers above ambient washes and echoed keys, each word falling carefully in the crevices. "Asleep At The Wheel" unfolds on arpeggiated synth before a burst of symphonic color; the synth returns inverted to harmonize with the outro, "I love a car crash, I love a story, I love a memory, I swear it's real..." Casey leans into digital imagination on the warm, introspective "Me I Think I Found It." Subdued, stuttered percussion underscores the singer as he cycles through pixelated imagery _ screenshots, smiles, streetlights _ searching for higher meaning through love. Built on ascendent chord distortions, "Dying Til I'm Born" gives the record one of its boldest pulses of emotion. The back half stretches out; "Is This Only Water" is sparse and foggy, "Baby Voice" is intimate and desperate for something to remain. "Words For Love" grooves on guitar, and "Tennisman9" aches in heartbreak. French musician Marylou Mayniel, aka Oklou, appears as the collection's only guest for the closing duet, "The Make Believe," a bright and buoyant send-off that gives Later that day... both a sense of resolve and cyclical-motion. "We are young, under the sun," they sing together, a parting image brimming with lightness.

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."

"The debut longplayer from Washington, DC-based Ekko Astral is a complex mesh of bubblegum noise punk and no-wave art rock that holds an elastic space for the knotty, tangled horrors of living in the imperial core. Their songs thrash with intense, necessary defiance against codified gender-based violence, their distortion and sibilance a direct response to the dangers outside our front doors.

pink balloons opener “head empty blues” specifically bites back against the terrors of the normative male gaze that dominates so much of American culture. Over a post-punk passage that plays call and response with a wall of harsh noise, frontwoman Jael Holzman belts playfully morbid details of the head-exploding anxieties that haunt her daily: “is it bon eye-ver or bon iver? / i don’t care / i’ve got stalkers outside / not going out tonight / gonna sit and take pics / in my underwear.”

Holzman formed the band in 2021 with best friend Liam Hughes (guitar), and eventually rounded out the band’s lineup with Miri Tyler (drums), Guinevere Tully (bass), and Sam Elmore (guitar). Ekko Astral’s local scene quickly welcomed the band for their wildly fierce live presence, emboldened by the community-building message behind the band’s mascara mosh pit brand.

Ultimately, Ekko Astral are here to uplift, a mission exemplified by the frenetic and bewitching pre-release singles “baethoven” and “devorah,” cornerstones of pink balloons in both style and theme. The former serves as a reminder to keep your larger than life personality in a world that wants to downsize you, where the latter proclaims urgent solidarity with missing and murdered people. Such crucial messages of upliftment are the foundation of pink balloons, and, by extension Ekko Astral, whose thrashing debut leaves no stone of solidarity unturned."

“Home” is not always a literal place. Sometimes, “home” represents inner peace and simply learning to hold space for yourself. This is where Vacations lead singer and guitarist Campbell Burns has arrived as he and bandmates Jake Johnson, Nate Delizzotti, and Joseph Van Lier release their third LP, No Place Like Home. “I had this loose concept of No Place Like Home being an Americana-influenced album,” Campbell says of the album’s sonic inspirations. “I wanted to incorporate more pianos, acoustic guitars, Nashville tuning, and country-inspired lap steel, but then also bringing in drum machines and synths and finding a mix between the two.” Produced by Campbell and John Velasquez (Zella Day, Broods), No Place Like Home comprises 10 shimmering tracks brimming with indie-pop hooks and just a touch of bittersweet sensitivity. The new project follows an intense period of transformation for Campbell, who was forced to cancel all touring commitments due to COVID restrictions and subsequently came down with a severe bout of writer’s block. After seeking therapy, he was eventually diagnosed with Pure OCD, a subtype of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. “Pure OCD is more mental compulsions rather than physical compulsions,” Campbell explains. “If I have an intrusive thought, I'm giving that thought belief and power over myself.” As the world began to open up, so did Campbell’s vibrant creative spirit. Vacations hit the road for the first time in two years, selling out The Fonda in LA and playing Austin City Limits Festival in Austin, experiences that partially inform No Place Like Home. First single and album opener “Next Exit” sparkles with danceable synth riffs and Campbell’s aching falsetto, all while setting the overall tone for what’s to come. “‘Next Exit’ is about living in this monotonous cycle,” Campbell reveals. “You realize that you need an out. You need to — metaphorically and literally — take the next exit out in order to break out of that cycle.” The singer mines his Pure OCD diagnosis on the pondering “Over You,” which thematically picks up where “Next Exit” drops off. Campbell remarks on how “it almost has this ownership over my thoughts and actions to the point where I'm stuck in these loops and rituals that are a direct result of having OCD.” On the Americana-inspired “Midwest,” which seamlessly blends pop electronics, drum machine, and ‘80s synth with poignant lap steel tones, the song remarks on the comedic nature of repeatedly entering into romantic relationships prior to going on tour — only to have them fizzle out upon returning. As the band releases No Place Like Home, Campbell is ironically just fine with not putting down physical roots just yet having recently made the move to LA for exploration, expanding “I needed to get overseas if I wanted to keep progressing — from a career standpoint, but also on a personal level.” The greater priority lies within building that sense of comfort within himself. In the meantime, millions of fans around the world are making a permanent home with Vacations.

Albums don’t get much more intimate than the ones made by Stina Nordenstam. The Swedish singer layers her delicate voice over minimal, ambient soundscapes, and her lyrics are impressionistic, personal, and poetic. It’s like you’re swimming in her stream of consciousness, which is a pretty nice place to be, especially on this 2001 album, which presents Stina at her dreamiest and poppiest. Long desired by vinyl fans, This Is Stina Nordenstam is here in a clear pressing with a color inner sleeve featuring lyrics. Mitchell Froom co-produces; includes a couple of duets with Suede’s Brett Anderson (on “Trainsurfing” and Keen Yellow Planet”)!