Among all of the bands carrying the return of loud, low, heavy guitar music pioneered by bands HUM and Failure, one act is often hoisted above the rest as the standard bearers.
That band is Cloakroom, doomgazers/space rockers/slacker rockers from Northwest Indiana (hey, that’s where I live)! And on their debut EP, Infinity, Cloakroom roars into infamy with the roar of a thousand amplifiers and an earth-crushing gravity.
Given the deep nostalgic ties in the shoegaze, dream pop, new wave, and post punk revivals, it’s little wonder that there’s a fair amount of crossover between them. Hundredth’s RARE drew as much inspiration from New Order as Slowdive. Metallic genre benders like Deftones and Deafheaven have looked to The Cure as much as My Bloody Valentine.
And so, when noted shoegaze revivalists Nothing trade their fuzz pedals for synths and do their best Joy Division impressions, it shouldn’t come as much as a surprise.
(And to be clear, that isn’t an insult).
As broad as I like to think my musical tastes are, there are times that I might actually be pretty predictable.
Take for example my love of dark, guitar heavy, shoegaze inspired indie rock. So infamous am I for my love of this aesthetic that around Christmas, a friend messaged me this album on Spotify saying I would probably like it.
Later that same day, another friend sent me a vinyl copy as a present.
They were both very correct.
After five albums, Scottish dream pop darlings Cocteau Twins found something they never expected their blissful, ambiguous, ethereal pop songs to deliver…
Commercial success.
As much as I try to stay atop notable new releases, it’s inevitable that some will escape my attention for a while. In this case, “a while” is twelve years, as the first listen I gave to Blonde Redhead’s magnificent 23 was just last week.
And what a waste it’s been, because this would have been one of my favorite records from my college years if I discovered it earlier. It’s the perfect mixture of thick My Bloody Valentine-y textures, Radioheady beat work, and grade-A pop hooks.
If history is kind (and accurate) it will remember Alcest as one of the most important metal bands of all time.
After all, the flood of bands fusing the passion of black metal with the textures of shoegaze and the drama of post rock (see: Deafheaven, Oathbreaker, Brutus) are taking pages from their playbook. Their debut EP Le Secret fused these elements together in a way that many bands are still using as a blueprint—and it came out in 2005.
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
Some albums don’t need a follow up. They stand firmly upon their own two proverbial legs, singular icons that echo into eternity, transcending everything else the artist does.
Loveless is one of those albums. It cemented My Bloody Valentine’s legacy even without a follow up.
And for a long time, it finally felt like that follow up would never come. Then once it did, it was met with apprehension. After all, how do you follow up a record as sublime and transformative as Loveless?
Often, when a record is treated with mythology and laudation, the actual music itself fails to stand up to its own legend.
Despite being an icon in every regard, Loveless doesn’t have the same struggle. It is a glistening masterpiece that transcends every level of the myth surrounding it.
A lot of people talk about My Bloody Valentine as if they emerged from the ether in 1991 with the masterpiece Loveless.
Not only is that a drastic oversimplification, but it also ignores Isn’t Anything, which is a wonderful record in its own right.