Since Monday, outstanding full streams from Space Mountain, The Veils, Vomitface, Lifer, Midnight Faces, Zula, Worse, The Wounded Kings, Psychic Heat, Massage, Saint Clementine, and Twist have all surfaced. In that baker’s dozen of releases, there’s a demonstration of the impressive range of quality material that this month alone has been producing. We’re living in an astonishing time for music and while not all of it’s visible, it’s still easily accessible. For example: Hazel English may not currently be the biggest name in music but the project’s most recent single, “I’m Fine”, ranks among the best understated pop songs of the year.
Making the deal even sweeter, the project’s offered up a gorgeous lyric clip to accompany the release of “I’m Fine” that was meticulously crafted using cut-outs of vintage issues of Life magazine. In that approach, “I’m Fine” gets the benefit of having an appreciative sense of history, which, in turn, winds up enlivening the entire affair. The song itself is an eloquently composed slice of muted basement pop, anchored by a frighteningly relatable sense of human longing.
From the warm synth beds to the imagery placement, there’s not a false note or move to be found anywhere in “I’m Fine”, which has an emotional resonance that’s impossible to ignore. Even with all of the ostensible anguish that drives the song’s narrative — and the wistful nostalgia that fuels the clip — as soon as it’s over, the only thing that seems to make sense is to go straight back to the beginning and experience every inch of “I’m Fine” all over again.
Watch “I’m Fine” below and pre-order Never Going Home here.
Krill’s name has been a staple of this site for around the entirety of its run. The band’s work didn’t come into sharp focus for me (or many other that eventually treated the band like a religion) until I caught their live show, which left me wide-eyed and astounded. The band’s final full-length effort, A Distant Fist Unclenching, was both their finest work and the closest they’ve ever come to capturing the intangible magic present in their live shows.
Losing the band last year was an extremely tough blow and several A Year’s Worth of Memories contributors wrote about the band’s legacy and learning how to reconcile their loss. The other day, the band unexpectedly resurfaced with a glimmer of hope (one characteristically shrouded in self-doubt and misery) with one final release from beyond the grave.
Krill has a lofty title to live up to but it’s the only one that makes sense; it’s the encapsulation of all the eccentricities that made the band so fiercely and fervently adored by an intensely dedicated following. They made no attempts to hide the grotesque nature of their narratives, their uncompromising approach to songwriting, or the total and complete lack of glamour in their presentation. For all of those reasons (and so many more), the East Coast community that birthed the band became remarkably protective of the trio, placing them on a pedestal that only a few bands have ever managed to near.
When the band was playing their final few shows (one of which I wrote about in detail here), they were playing the songs that would come to make up the astonishing Krill EP. “Meat”, a genuine standout, has the unique distinction of rekindling the fire that the band so effortlessly lit. It’s also one of the first tracks the band wrote to incorporate a baritone guitar and the end result of that decision is one of the band’s most inspired songs.
“Meat” sees the band achieving the full potential of the band, implementing exceptionally thoughtful instrumentation, startling dynamic turns, and brash, confrontational lyrics that directly address loneliness, shame, humiliation, and vulnerability in an arresting, honest fashion. Everyone in the band gives the song everything they’ve got and they wind up with a miniature, self-contained masterpiece and what’s easily not just one of the best tracks in their catalog but one of the best songs of 2016.
The rest of Krill sustains the tone set by “Meat” and transforms the EP into an essential release of the band’s sharpest material instead of a victory lap that coasts on past successes. Risks get taken, vocals crack, and the trio fearlessly embraces moments of uncertainty. All of it’s deeply compelling and a significant reminder of the band’s overwhelming value, which remains a sorely missed asset to the DIY music circuit.
Perhaps the best indicator of the band’s uncompromising vision arrives at the EP’s halfway point with the sprawling, winding “The Void”, an unblinking track that challenges and even encourages listeners to confront their failings and limitations. It’s a bold, provocative song that’s guided along by Krill’s masterful musicianship, genuine understanding, and (one of their most overlooked traits) a subtle dash of empathy driven by a commendably complete sense of humanity.
“Billy” closes the collection out and brings the saga of Krill to its official end with an insistence that Krill will never truly be dead. The values the band stood for, the records they left behind, what they accomplished in their time of existence, all of it will always have a rightful place both in their lives and in the lives of the people who gravitated into their orbit. Even as Krill ultimately falls into a trance and disintegrates into a wall of feedback, blown-out distortion, and white noise, the band’s legacy remains intact and their iconic status keeps growing, even after departing. So, it’s time to say, once more, with certainty and feeling: Krill forever.
Listen to Krill below and pick up a copy here. Watch a large portion of one of the band’s final sets beneath the bandcamp embed.
2016 has been unbelievably kind in its production of legitimately great albums, EP’s, amd demos. Roughly halfway into the year and there are already well over two dozen legitimate Album of the Year contenders alone. Unsurprisingly, even more great full streams keep surfacing. While not all of these are quite at that year-end level, there were several deserving titles that were unveiled over the past 24 hours from the likes of G.L.O.S.S., Small Culture, Exam Season, and No Friends’ fourth Flexi compilation, while another curiosity arrived in the form of Marge’s three-track teaser for Bruise Easy. One of the day strongest standouts came from site favorites Weaves.
As was recently mentioned in the last Watch This entry, Weaves have been on an absolute tear since releasing the pointed, lived-in basement pop stomper “Shithole“. The band seemed to his a stretch of galvanization and poured a wealth of creative energy into their material, enhancing an already outsize persona with vigor and aplomb. After a few promising early releases, the band seemed to latch onto an identity and draw strength from their own discoveries. Emboldened by their own artistic growth, Weaves illustrates just how much fire the band has in its ribs.
From the sudden squall that opens “Tick”, Weaves‘ volatile opening track, the band never really eases off the gas pedal. This is, unmistakably, one of 2016’s wildest, boldest, and most invigorating releases. Teeming with an outsize persona and a frightening excess of energy, the band imbues the 11 tracks up for offer on Weaves with an abundance of genuine feeling. No punches are pulled and each blow lands with the force of an anvil. Bolstered by frenetic guitar work, the compelling narratives and vocal fireworks of Jasmyn Burke, and an almost frighteningly intuitive togetherness, Weaves‘ first section threatens to derail the entire affair.
Fortunately, Weaves have been perfecting just about everything in their arsenal, from production tricks to pacing, and the results aren’t just showing, they’re flashing two more rows of sharpened teeth; this is a record that runs deep. When “Shithole” — one of last year’s finest songs — finally hits, the song nearly becomes a reprieve. Scaling back the tempo, Burke’s honesty gains even more impact as the band conjures up the kind of reassuring bed of noise that elevates every word. “Eagle” follows suit, allowing Weaves to coast on the momentum they generated with the opening run of tracks while still expanding the record’s intrigue.
Weaves start waving their freak flag higher and more proudly in the record’s back half, though the prominence of that act never quite hits the exhilarating peaks produced by the brilliant back-to-back pairing of “Two Oceans” and “Human”. Following a sequence that staggering would seem nearly impossible for just about any other band but it ultimately opens up what Weaves can do with the record’s closing third, an opportunity they seize with a gleeful relish. Two 2016 highlights — “Coo Coo” and “One More” — enliven the home stretch but don’t necessarily establish themselves as the section’s definitive numbers.
It’s in that final sequence where Weaves cement that their self-titled effort was concocted as a well-thought whole; Weaves is a classic example of a genuine album. In a few years, Weaves may also genuinely come to be considered a classic album. The final piece to the puzzle that should help ensure its legacy is the placement of the record’s most explosive moment (“One More”, a no-brainer selection for one of the 50 Best Songs of 2016’s First Quarter compilation) with its most beautiful piece.
“Stress”, Weaves‘ finale, is nothing short of breathtaking. Tranquil, oddly moving, and quietly propulsive, “Stress” fully demonstrates just how far Weaves have come since their modest beginnings. Gentle melodies, well-placed stabs of feedback, and the kind of contemplative calm that descends after a vicious storm are underscored for the duration of “Stress”, allowing the band to seamlessly merge the sensibilities that frequently accompany both finale and epilogue. It’s a haunting number that provides Weaves with an unforgettable finish, solidifying its status as one of the stronger records this decade.
It’s not just that no one does what Weaves are doing as well as they do, it’s that no one else is even making an attempt. Should Weaves inspire some attempts at this particular eclectic blend of songwriting styles, genres, and cornerstones, this record will retain — and most likely remain in — a position as the gold standard. Grab onto something close and hold on tightly because Weaves is an unpredictable, exhilarating, and ultimately deeply satisfying thrill ride that knows no borders or boundaries. Greet it with an anxious smile and give in to its myriad charms.
Listen to Weaves below and pick it up from Kanine here.
Nearly all of Future Biff contributed to the 2015 edition of A Year’s Worth of Memories, a fact that has literally no bearing on the assessment of their unexpected, extraordinary I Crashed Your Car EP. The band’s fronted by Geronimo! keys man Ben Grigg, whose also been putting out incredibly compelling solo work as benjamin783 and who handles bass duties as well as vocals for this release, which immediately ensures that Future Biff won’t be a retread of the band that left a crater-sized hole in this site’s heart after hanging up their cables last year.
Opening with the rousing “Built To Last”, Future Biff teases that they’ll be a much different kind of beast than Geronimo!, providing emphasis on both a strong melodic sensibility, grounded basement pop compositions, and swirling, feedback-laden chaos. Only “Redline”, I Crashed Your Car‘s jittery final track, passes the two and a half minute mark, allowing the EP to be a blazing force of pure destruction. All five of the songs seem surprisingly purposeful, undoubtedly aided by the benefit of having a joint drumming attack anchored by two of the finest percussionists on the circuit.
Even with all of the singular talent involved in Future Biff, the project feels like it belongs to Grigg, whose long had a penchant for writing sharply intuitive, scrappy punk-tinged basement pop. It’s a trait that shines through I Crashed Your Car with an emphatic abundance. Fiery, propulsive, and unavoidable, Grigg steers the band through the carnage of one of 2016’s finest EP’s with a demented smile. Give in or get out of the way.
Listen to I Crashed Your Car below and pick it up from the band here.
Few bands, if any, have had more words written about them in these spaces and I haven’t pushed any band more than Tenement. I’ve written about the trio at literally every opportunity over the past eight years and the band keeps providing reasons to sing their praises. Somehow, despite their lengthy history, “Feral Cat Tribe” stands as the band’s first official video. Featuring guitarist/vocalist Amos Pitsch’s Dusk roommates (Colin Wilde, Matt Stranger, and Julia Blair), “Feral Cat Tribe” also heavily promotes Tenement’s own ethos (stay true to what works on a DIY platform and elevate the talented people that surround you in the process).
The video itself is a dizzying, disorienting run through a relatively nondescript building as the band (and their friends) mime their way through “Feral Cat Tribe”, a highlight from one of last year’s best albums. “Feral Cat Tribe” is a shot in a way that evokes the 360-angle video trend without ever succumbing into gimmickry or egregious pageantry, opting to make a slight statement on the nature of art: no matter how it’s dressed, if the material’s core maintains its convictions, it’ll more than likely be worthwhile.
Swooping camera angles, quick edits, and constantly, continuously moving pieces are also reflective of the commendable principles the band’s endorsed since their beginning. This is music and filmmaking that’s tethered to the earth and openly embraces all of its cracks, flaws, and bruises. For Tenement’s entire career, the band’s been finding ways to find beauty in damage and the clip for “Feral Cat Tribe” continues that trend on the visual spectrum. There’s a certain level of courageousness that’s required to even attempt what Tenement’s been doing lately and they’re continuing to make it look effortless.
Whether the band’s evoking classic Americana art forms or simply building their own identity, they’re doing it with uncanny precision and a wealth of feeling. “Feral Cat Tribe” — what’s said to be the first of many music videos for Predatory Headlights— suggests the band’s grasp extends even further than what they’ve previously shown. A fascinating clip from one of the best bands currently going, “Feral Cat Tribe” further cements their status as one of today’s most trustworthy acts; everything the band delivers is battered gold.
Watch “Feral Cat Tribe” below and pick up Predatory Headlights from Don Giovanni here.
Summer Cannibals, Man Up, Yancey, Brenda’s Friend, Kino Kimino, Nettle, Post Moves, and Old Maybe all had notable full streams surface over the past few days. While all of those titles are worth the investment, the attention’s going to — once again — be directed back to a song. Jay Som’s set to make a big push as the opener for an upcoming tour that also features Japanese Breakfast and Mitski, so “I Think You’re Alright” functions nicely as an anticipatory warning shot.
The thing is, “I Think You’re Alright” is so much more than just a warning shot; no song has reminded me more of Sparklehorse since Linkous’ tragic passing (and that’s an obscenely high compliment). “I Think You’re Alright” is the kind of chill-inducing bedroom pop that comes coated with the slightest layer of punk grit to keep it tethered to the earth, affording the song a relatable feeling that enhances its most wide-eyed sensibilities.
In under four minutes, “I Think You’re Alright” runs seamlessly through a variety of genre touch points, from the steady, programmed drum beat to the swirling feedback at the song’s most climactic moment. None of its misplaced, each small moment registering as a revelation. Everything in “I Think You’re Alright” coalesces into these moments of sublime transcendence that arrive at an alarming rate; it’s an astonishing song that’s comprised almost entirely of grace notes.
Importantly, everything on display sounds open and honest, amplifying the song’s inherently tragic nature. Uncompromising and singularly beautiful, “I Think You’re Alright” confidently stands as one of 2016’s most unforgettable releases. Boasting a strangely comforting melody that calmly builds a home and refuses to leave, the song ultimately carries an atmosphere that’s as inviting as it is melancholic. It’s an invitation that’s worth accepting.
Listen to “I Think You’re Alright” below and pre-order the single here.
Let’s get this out of the way at the top: there hasn’t been a post on this site for roughly a month. A large part of that development is due to the fact that for approximately half of that timeframe, I’ve been on the road and either playing or taking in shows (the majority of which will be receiving coverage here at some point in the near future). During that stretch, a lot of material has surfaced. From extremely strong post-punk debuts to an astonishing, simultaneous 35-record release, it’s been a fascinating month. Below is a collection of some of the finest releases that have emerged over the past several weeks. Enjoy.
Once more, a lot of material has surfaced since this site’s last regular update. A few premieres are in the (very) near future, though, as are a series of recaps. A few of those — like this very piece — will be limited to March, while the others will cover the first, very rich, quarter of 2016. Since so much has amassed in that period of time, a lot of these will simply be presented as lists with hyperlinks. As much as I wish I could grant all of these individual pieces the attention they genuinely deserve, the most I can do at this point is make sure they don’t go completely unnoticed. Now that all of that’s covered, please enjoy this list of March’s finest full streams (the best approach to consumption would be to bookmark the page and explore it at will). Keep an eye on this site for a lot more in a very short span of days as it claws its way back into regular coverage.
It seems fitting that another stacked week for new releases would find a similarly overloaded endcap. Total Makeover, Soft Fangs, Blackalicious, and Cumstain all had incredible new songs while Melkbelly, Lindi Ortega, and Phylums unveiled outstanding records. Even with the strong representation for those categories, the day belonged to music videos. La Luz’s animated “Black Hole, Weirdo Shine“, sore’s delightfully low-key “elle le fantôme“, Pianos Become the Teeth’s startlingly heartfelt “Ripple Water Shine“, Sharkmuffin’s unapologetic “Tampons Are For Sluts“, Albert Ryan’s lyric clip for “Man“, Kaleo’s gorgeous, inventive “Way Down We Go“, Earl Sweatshirt’s classic, nightmarish “Off Top“, and Deaf Wish’s retro-influenced futurist vision “On” constituted an unusually strong field. Topping everything off was Salad Boys‘ curiously entertaining “Dream Date”.
The narrative through-line’s essentially non-existent in “Dream Date”, leaving the clip to function and thrive on its own singular energy. Directed by Ben Dodd and Salad Boys’ guitarist/vocalist Joe Sampson, the clip finds Sampson placed front and center in various scenic locations. While his isolation could serve as a commentary on loneliness, there’s a wryness and contentment that centers Sampson’s performance and suggests that being alone can be an extraordinary thing. It’s a deceptively clever setup anchored by a committed performance- and a spry basement pop song- that lends “Dream Date” an unavoidable vibrancy. Irreverent, funny, and impossibly light, it’s the kind of video that can act as a reminder of the joy of simply being alive.
Watch “Dream Date” below and pre-order Metalmania ahead of its September 18 release date from Trouble In Mind here.
Keeping the recent themes of the site going, this post will be dedicated to 75 of this year’s most fascinating records (along with an overlooked fourth quarter gem or two from last year getting their due). Covering a range of genres, as always, these records cover a lot of ground. A few find their niche in fierceness while others make a home in more tranquil realms. It’s impossible to stress how full of a year 2015’s already been for new music and if this crop of early offerings is any suggestion, we’re all in for one of the strongest stretches of new music in roughly a decade. As ever, don’t let the fact there’s no accompanying text with these releases detract from their value; a great deal of these have a good chance of ranking among 2015’s finest releases (NPR’s current roster of First Listen selections is an exhilarating reminder that we’re only just getting started). Click on the hyperlinks below (listed in no particular order) to hear the records and- if you find yourself drawn to any- make sure to pick one up from either the band or their label. Happy exploring.
Heartbreaking Bravery 