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.
These days, I generally treat my record budget with a level of judiciousness. Every dollar is precious, so I typically don’t make any purchases without thoroughly vetting each album in my wantlist, listening and relistening until I feel confident enough to pull the trigger.
But every once in a great while, I’ll take a risk, such as the 5-for-$25 random bundle from Topshelf Records that landed me this record and Mock Orange (among others). But if this were the only worthwhile record in the bunch, it still might have been worth it.
It’s no surprise that heavy music is a bit of a boy’s club.
While all genres have their own struggles toward gender equality, metal and hardcore often treated as inherently masculine, channeling aggression and anger with big meaty riffs and growling vocals.
But there are plenty of women out there who are proving that there is just as much room for feminine voices in heavy music.
The second installment of My Epic’s two-EP project finds the group unleashing the catharsis that they spent Ultraviolet holding back. And once they let go, they don’t stop.
While Ultraviolet found the group restraining themselves, Violent finds them as heavy and unhinged as they’ve ever been.