Influence is a funny thing: one person might hear an obvious influence all over a band and say, “oh, this is just a shameless ripoff.” Another might say, “no, this is incredible, it sounds just like them.”
In this case, the band is Lo Moon, the influence is Talk Talk, and I am one thousand percent the second individual.
In the summer between eighth grade and freshman year of high school, I gained possession of a Tooth & Nail compilation entitled Songs From the Penalty Box, Vol 4. That CD was my introduction to a number of bands that would change my life, such as Squad Five-O, Blenderhead, Craig’s Brother, Calibretto 13, and The Juliana Theory.
But nestled at the very end of the compilation was a track called “Spraypaint (We Won’t Carry Over),” a riotous blend of garage rock, punk, and ska that entranced me. And for the last several years, I have been trying unsuccessfully to track down a vinyl copy, without success.
Then last week, a record store on the East Coast discovered a box of copies that they just forgot to open. And so, I have finally added this masterpiece to my collection.
With all of the punk and hardcore kids starting shoegaze bands these days (see: Nothing, Turnover, Pity Sex) and bands implementing more of that lush instrumentalism into their sound (see: Touche Amore, Title Fight), it was only a matter of time until a hardcore band became a full-fledged shoegaze band.
It might seem like a massive jump for a hardcore band to shift to the gauzy, dreamy lushness of shoegaze, but Hundredth does it in a way that still captures their punk fury. Continue reading
It’s no secret that the lines demarcating metal have blurred as of late. From Alcest and Deafheaven‘s fascination with shoegaze and post rock to Zeal and Ardor’s melding of black metal and black spirituals, the sonics of heavy metal have never been less sacred.
It’s a tough time to be a metal purist. Luckily, I am not—at all. And good thing too, because if I were, I would have likely put up my noise at the brilliant genre-bending catharsis from Belgium power trio Brutus.
For an artist, growth is a funny thing.
On the one hand, no one wants to hear the same record released year after year. On the other, what happens when an artist grows into something unrecognizable?
Such is the plague of pop-punk demigods The Ataris’ fifth full-length, which was such a sharp left turn that the Wikipedia page says that “the group abandoned the pop-punk label.”
And while this record might seem like a huge curveball to anyone looking for So Long Astoria, Pt. 2, the sonic legacy of this record can be traced all the way back to their earliest records.
From the moment For Emma, Forever Ago thrusted him into the public eye, Justin Vernon has been a glutton for collaboration. He’s spent the next decade rushing from the avant-garde Volcano Choir to the drugged up soft rock collective Gayngs to the blues rock Shouting Matches to multiple collaborations with Kanye West, James Blake, and many more.
And while previous Bon Iver releases have brought this genre hopping under the umbrella of his solo project, i,i (pronounced “I comma I”) fully captures that collaborative spirit.
For an interesting look at the sexual politics of the 1960s, take a look at the conversation between Nancy Sinatra and her producer in the liner notes of this record.
“How should I sing this?”
“Like a 16 year old girl who’s been dating a 40 year old, but it’s all over now.”
It’s a bit of a shock to 2019 eyes. But in a strange way, it perfectly encapsulates the venom-tongued ingenue on display on that iconic track.