I knew nothing about Lume before I was turned on to Wrung Out, their 2018 sophomore record that perfectly encapsulated everything right with the doomy grunge/shoegaze hybrid of bands like Cloakroom, The Life and Times, Teenage Wrist, and Superheaven. And while their debut might not carry itself quite as deftly, it’s still a more-than-respectable first-outing.
After the other two members of traditional black metal band Alcest left, soon-to-be French metal icon Neige decided to use the project—or at least the name—as a vehicle for his own experimental mix of black metal, shoegaze, post rock, and gothic.
As a child, Neige would often dream that he was visiting a forest filled with glowing, enchanted creatures from another world. On Alcest’s debut full-length, the suitably titled Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde (Souvenirs from Another World), Neige explores what he’s always imagined the music of that land to sound like.
The results are just as otherworldly as advertised, though it shows mere glimpses of where Alcest would go in their now legendary career.
Often when I’m trying to figure out what I want to listen to, I find myself trying to make the decision between heavy riffs or catchy melodies. Do I want to sing along with the choruses, or do I want to be crushed beneath the monstrous weight of the guitars?
Luckily, The Life and Times never makes me choose, hitting like a mix of HUM-y walls of noise with almost Beatles-y melodies.
And I am here for it.
Sometimes, life feels like a random intersection of others lives. In 1969, there was just over three and a half billion people on the planet. And somehow, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Bonham, and John Paul Jones found one another and formed one of the most important bands in the whole scope of pop music history.
And they released this record, which would become one of the most influential albums of all time.
In the spring of 2006, during the heyday of MySpace, I somehow ended up becoming good friends with an entire family of siblings that I had never met.
The eldest was Andrew Stonestreet, a singer songwriter with a golden voice and a master for subtlety. At that point, he was writing bluegrass inspired worship songs that were as introspective as they were delicate.
Years later, he moved from West Virginia to Portland, where he formed Greylag, a project that turned his Appalachian sensibilities a few shades atmospheric—and apocalyptic.
I sometimes forget that my friend Grey is more than just a memelord. From his constant online irreverence and roasting of just about every band in existence (see: his podcast Demolisten), it sometimes feels like he doesn’t have a heart at all.
But within a few seconds of his solo full length Forget I Brought It Up, I realize oh yeah, this guy does have feelings—and an incredible talent for communicating them through poignant lyrics and a rich mixture of 90s alternative, pop punk, and emo.
By the mid ’80s, mechanical, inhuman synthpop that Kraftwerk pioneered had gone from an avant-garde experiment to the main stream. Artists like the Human League, New Order, and even Madonna had already taken the same artificial instruments and turned them on pop music.
And so when Kraftwerk released Electric Cafe, it was in a world where electronic music wasn’t just made by robots anymore. The adjustment is a little difficult, but it’s more rewarding than not.
Read more at ayearofvinyl.com #kraftwerk #krautrock #electronica #avantgarde #synthpop #vinyl
When I first stumbled upon the wonderful post-hardcore supergroup Less Art last year, I was a little unfamiliar with the home projects of the members. Obviously, I am a longtime and die hard fan of Thrice, but I had only given a precursory listen to Curl Up and Die, and had never heard of Kowloon Walled City at all.
But, the strength of Less Art invited me to look into them, and oh, am I glad I did.
Container Ships, their 2012 sophomore record, is a patient, cerebral piece of heavy music that blends sludge metal and post-hardcore in a brilliant way that lands somewhere between ISIS and Fugazi.