Heartbreaking Bravery

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Tag: Notches

Mike Krol – An Ambulance (Stream)

A whole pile of incredible songs emerged this week, including new entries from: Florry, Mothers, Henry Chadwick, Sauropod, Notches, Strawberry Mountain, Lost Boy ?, Muncie Girls, Harvey Trisdale, Thin Lips, Sketti Tangles, Gon von Zola, Michael Michael Motorcycle, Found Wild, Joey Sweeney, Rosie Thorne, Claw Marks, Paul Collins, Bilge Rat, Memory Bells, The Chills, Jane’s Party, and Leland and the Silver Walls. They’re all worth a listen. Another artist to join the party was site favorite Mike Krol.

Just a few years ago, Krol put out the incredible Turkey, a record teeming with blistering basement pop strong enough to land it a spot as Heartbreaking Bravery’s pick as one of 2015’s best albums. Krol hasn’t released much of anything in the interim that’s followed but did see a spike in popularity after an unexpected, joyous appearance as an in-show character on Steven Universe. Rebecca Sugar’s show — and the fervent fan base its amassed — seems in perfect keeping with Krol’s sensibilities, which manage to simultaneously suggest immediacy and thoughtfulness.

Which brings us to “An Ambulance”, a characteristically scintillating surge of punk-tinted basement pop from an artist that’s built a career out of mastering that exact genre. From the jump, “An Ambulance” flaunts its blown-out giddiness, exploding in an adrenaline rush of melodic aggression. A catchy-as-hell guitar riff forms the foundation for one of the summer’s best hooks, accelerating the song from a controlled cruise to reckless abandonment. The song’s vintage Krol, suffusing the past with credible meaning and blowing the doors to the future wide open.

Listen to “An Ambulance” below and pre-order An Ambulance b/w Never Know from Merge here.

Jack – Resting Places (EP Review)

JACK

Grief is a fearsome beast. At its worst, the emotion can become all-consuming and open up doors to spiteful resentments, severe depression, and bursts of misplaced anger. At its best, grief can lead to an expanded sense of empathy and a deeper understanding of the things that are legitimately important in life. More often than not, though, grief lingers in between that spectrum, forever at odds with its own qualities. All of those areas are explored in Jack’s jaw-dropping EP, Resting Places.

That’s precisely the reason why — despite absurdly strong showings from Vanity, Notches, Honey Bucket, Turtlenecked, Carl Sagan’s Skate Shoes, and Liam Betson —  the EP finds itself in this post’s featured position. Jack, a project spearheaded by Brittany Costa, came about by way of a difficult situation. That situation informs every millisecond of Resting Places, as Costa created the project as an outlet to confront the loss of a loved one.

Anyone that’s lucky enough to be familiar with Costa’s past work will undoubtedly find reason to be interested in Resting Places but will likely be caught off guard. This is, by some distance, the most vital work of Costa’s impressive career. Resting Places is an unflinchingly intimate, honest work and those qualities are all but necessitated by the circumstances leading up to its creation. What separates Resting Places is Costa’s overwhelming conviction. At every turn, each of the five tracks on the EP feel like they were born out of a fierce need to purge the thoughts they contain, at any cost.

Drawing from a variety of musical genres and utilizing the talents of Flagland‘s Nick Dooley and Bethlehem Steel’s Becca Ryskalczyk, Costa ably conjures up a maelstrom that becomes a mirror of Resting Places‘ bruised and bruising narrative. From the very opening line of the EP — “What the fuck did I do to make you turn away?” — there’s an aggressive tilt that never wavers, even in Resting Places‘ quietest moments.

A feedback swell precedes that opening salvo, establishing the discord that the EP draws on and rails against. For around 24 minutes, Costa veers in and out of folk, punk, Americana, and pop sensibilities, tethering everything into a genre-demolishing approach that thrives on a sense of unease. It’s a trait that permeates through all of Resting Places, as bleary-eyed and frantic as possible. All of those qualities come crashing to a head at climactic moments like the desperate affirmation of “I have fucking value” that closes out opener “Rightful Rage” or the repeated aversions to inflicting and experiencing suffering on the devastating “Harbor”.

Costa’s impressed as both a lyricist and a composer in the past but what she accomplishes on Resting Places doesn’t just top everything she’s done, it stands as some of the most impressive work that 2016 has yielded to date. Every track on the EP contains a handful of extraordinary moments, whether its in terms of dynamics, turns of phrases, or unbridled feeling. There’s a knockout punch lingering at every turn that’s ready to knock the listener down to Costa’s level. At no point over the course of its run does Resting Places halt its merciless swinging.

In Resting Places‘ penultimate track, “Sister System”, Costa addresses that pain directly, providing the EP with its most vulnerable moment. Even when Dooley’s intuitive drumming — one of Resting Places‘ finest additional assets — opens the song up a little, there’s an unwavering sense that Costa’s completely alone. The command to “pick up that dignity you threw across the floor” that brings the song to the end feels like less of a request and more of a reminder, again drawing the listener nearer to Costa’s position in a stunning, effective manner.

“The Look” brings the proceedings to a close in hair-raising fashion, giving Resting Places its severely battered, barely-beating heart. The song was the first to be released from Resting Places and managed to be breathtaking in a standalone capacity. Placed in the context of the EP, “The Look” becomes one of the most devastating songs to have emerged in recent memory. It’s a surging, climactic, tour-de-force of repressed feeling, unchecked frustration, and excessive exhaustion.

As Costa nearly screams “I tried to choke myself to stop the hurried breathing” in that final track, as the music surrounding the narrative threatens to go off the rails, one thing becomes abundantly clear: Resting Places isn’t just a necessary excursion for Costa to confront some lingering demos, it’s an artistic masterpiece. Eventually, it all leads up to what may be an inevitable summation. As “The Look” brings Resting Places to a close, Costa gets caught in a loop, repeating over and over “I am not afraid to die.”

It’s a powerful statement that holds even more weight measured against the rest of the EP. It’s a frightening moment of awareness and may even betray a dark desire but that final line also encapsulate how definitive of an exploration Resting Places is of personal grief. In that last line, the deceptively expansive breadth of grief is evident and can be opened up to many interpretations. A few of those interpretations may even prompt immediate revisits of the EP, providing the opportunity for re-contextualization.

As the music fades away into the ether,  Resting Places solidifies its place as one 2016’s most powerful releases for any format, leaving a mark that lasts. It’s a difficult EP that sparks an empathetic response that’s a little harrowing but likely nothing in comparison to what Costa went through while forming these songs. A special kind of generosity and bravery is required to put those feelings on display, so for that, we owe Costa a thanks, because Resting Places is just about as unforgettable as they come and, suitably, it makes it extraordinarily difficult to leave.

Listen to Resting Places below and grab a copy here.

Young Jesus – Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage (EP Review)

youngjesus

As another week begins, another slate of new streams finds their way out into the world. DonCat, Public Eye, Joyce Manor, Lydia Loveless, Notches, James Edge and the Mindstep, Midnight Faces, Zula, Swoon Lake, and Naked Giants all unveiled strong tracks. There were also impressive music videos from Teen Suicide and Dennis Callaci as well as formidable full streams from Thee Oh Sees and Puppy. While those proved to be fascinating titles, site favorites Young Jesus secured themselves another headline spot with the surprise release of the Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage EP, which sees bandleader John Rossiter continuing the influx of new material that was promised with last month’s extraordinary “1“.

In keeping with the pattern set by “1”, all of the song titles are assigned numbers and pick up after “2“. Don’t be fooled by the chronological system, each of these four tracks are imbued with the singular personality that’s defined the band’s past few releases. A recurrent thread throughout that past work has been an intangible sadness that finds intriguing ways to manifest. The most direct examples of that trait tend to be Rossiter’s lyricism, which tends to evoke an empathetic, even contemplative sense of basic understanding.

Right from the outset of Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage, those characteristics are in full effect. “3” is the kind of genre-defying slow-burner that’s become a Rossiter specialty, melancholic and memorable. “Act like I’m seeing with my eyes, act like I’m bleeding all the time. I’m doing fine, I’m doing fine.” is the line that closes out “3” and one of Neverending Catlaogue of Total Garbage‘s most defining moments. It’s simultaneously an unfiltered look at the fractured psyche of the central narrator and a therapeutic release.

While “4” and “6” both sustain the EP’s sense of trajectory, they’re slightly more experimental affairs (the latter, especially so). Even with that experimentation, there are moments of bruised romanticism, underscoring the potential value of this entire project on a grand scale. “5” may be the most traditional inclusion of Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage and the first of the new recordings to incorporate any sort of percussion. The song also manages to be one of the EP’s most direct moments and still retains the EP’s sense of poetry.

All told, Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage is a thing of beauty. As a reaffirmation of Young Jesus’ innate artistic ability, it’s heartening. As a continuation of a standalone project, the EP is fascinating. As its own entity, it’s surprisingly essential. Antithetical to its title at every turn, Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage winds up being a perfect example of 2016’s unexpected vibrancy. Don’t let this surprise release become a glossed-over footnote, provide it with the investment it deserves and walk away rewarded.

Listen to Neverending Catalogue of Total Garbage below and pick it up here.