I’ll admit I never got around to doing an end of year review for 2023 for varying reasons — mainly a major PC issue and some personal stuff going on — and when I finally had the time to focus, it was already late January and I felt it was better to just move on. Embrace the new year and see where it took me.
This past year has been one of dusting out the cobwebs, raising the windows and letting fresh air in, so to speak. I’ve spoken about the various personal choices and journeys over the last few years, making peace with some things, moving on, and looking forward. The resultant clarity has been much needed and welcomed.
So on that note, I’ll be revisiting some of this year’s releases over the next several weeks here at Walk in Silence. Some of these albums were merely entertainment, but some resonated deeply enough to become heavy rotation favorites. Which albums and singles will we see? Stay tuned!
I don’t listen to George’s solo work nearly as much as I should, as I keep forgetting that 1973’s Living in the Material World is definitely my second-favorite of his albums (just behind All Things Must Pass). Even though he leans a bit heavy on the spirituality here, such as with the teaser single “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)”, there are some absolutely lovely tracks like the above one on it as well, not to mention his smartass response to the dissolution of The Beatles and Apple with “Sue Me Sue You Blues”. It’s a fun album worth checking out, especially now that the slightly-delayed 50th anniversary deluxe edition will be coming out on 15 November.
Kinda like a cloud I was up way up in the sky And I was feeling some feelings you wouldn’t believe Sometimes I don’t believe them myself And I decided I was never coming down Just then a tiny little dot caught my eye It was just about too small to see But I watched it way too long It was pulling me down
I knew where Trent Reznor was going with these lyrics, but my interpretation in the autumn of 1989 when I first heard it was personal: it was a parallel to the past two years of my life, when I’d finally found my own close circle of friends, only to have them leave upon graduation. See, back then there were two things I had to deal with as a teenager: one, the lack of any kind of social media or easy (and inexpensive) way to remain in contact with them…and two, undiagnosed ADHD that had me hyperfocusing on all the wrong things. “Down In It” encapsulated what I felt at the time: having lost what had been a really great thing followed by the triple-punch of maintaining a long-distance relationship, the inability to find my place at college, and my inability to properly focus on schoolwork. Most of that first year in college was spent in a slow but constant spiral.
I mean, I was also drawn to the band’s unique sound, a mix between the grooving EBM beats of Front 242, the heavy anger of Ministry’s distorted industrial metal, the sterile synthetics of mid-80s Depeche Mode, the clinical experimentation of Severed Heads, the atmospherics of 4AD, and the goth doom of Skinny Puppy. [Reznor admits this song was definitely a riff on their single “Dig It” from 1986.] It was an album that bridged the sounds and lyrics of 80s and 90s electronic music, taking the listener towards a kind of darkness they might not be prepared for. It was the perfect soundtrack to what was going on in my head at the time.
I wasn’t the biggest fan of the second single and album opener “Head Like a Hole” — I felt it didn’t quite capture the tense desperation of “Down In It” — but it certainly worked as a big fuck you to my roommate, who I should not have been roommates with. But the second track, “Terrible Lie”…
…that was an even bigger and more violent fuck you to the world in general. I was not a happy person then, obviously.
Side-closer “Something I Can Never Have” was part of that. I’d been put through so many emotional wringers over the last several months and saddled with so many stressful situations I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared for that this song was the closest to how I felt at the time: exhausted, lost, and numb. I knew I had to deal with these spirals, not to mention having to figure out workarounds that would help me academically, but I wasn’t entirely sure if I had the strength to keep it up. I kept feeling like I was heading in a direction I didn’t want to go in.
Just a fading fucking reminder of who I used to be.
I’ve said plenty of times that I used to listen to my copy of this on my Walkman on train rides home for the weekend during those first few college years. Friday nights on the Leominster-Fitchburg line, having escaped the stress of school and looking forward to a few all-too-quick hours with my girlfriend T. A day or so to recharge before I headed back into Boston on Sunday afternoon, ready for another go. Pretty Hate Machine was a reminder of where I was at that point in time, a way of prepping myself for the inevitable facing of another day in a situation I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in.
Which is why I loved that “Kinda I Want To” opened side two. It was a complete change of direction: you know what? Fuck it. Let’s do this. Let’s see where this all goes, good or bad. As much as I thought I needed emotional and mental stability at the time, I also knew I needed to BREAK THE CYCLE.
Nothing quite like the feel of something new…
“The Only Time” was part of that as well. After the chaos of the track (and third single) “Sin” and the pain of “That’s What I Get”, we’re finally at the point where I want to say enough is fucking ENOUGH already. In my head I had to break so many cycles: my Catholic upbringing, my small-town mindset, my pleasing others often to the detriment of my own happiness. I had to cut ties somehow. Or at least ride it all out until I could escape.
Ending the album with “Ringfinger” may not have helped matters, because to me it was a reminder that change could not and would not happen overnight, and not without my needing to take the necessary steps first. Some of those steps would be immediate, others would take a few more years. But I had to make that move. Emotionally exhausted or not, there was no other direction I could move at that point.
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This album popped into my Threads feed the other day, as it had celebrated its 35th anniversary on Sunday. “Down In It” had also popped up on KEXP the morning I’d had to drive A down to SFO for one of her business trips, and it got me thinking about just how close I’d gotten to this album back in 1989 and into 1990. My cassette copy of the album had been played so often that most of the lettering had worn off it. It got a major amount of play throughout the years (except for a few where The Downward Spiral took its place in the mid-90s) and resurfaced again during the Belfry years. I still equate it to that time in my life where I felt like I was on a precipice. Decades have passed and I’ve figured out mental workarounds and achieved emotional stability. I never thought of that time as “just being a fucked-up kid”, to be honest, because I was trying not to be. I just had a lot of growing up to do and had to do it with little to no guidance, and I had to do it without help or influence, one way or another.
I’ve remained a Nine Inch Nails fan, though I don’t think I’ve ever resonated so deeply with an album as I did with Pretty Hate Machine. It’s an album that came out at a specific point in time, provided a life soundtrack, and kept me balanced in its own unique way.
…has given me a hankering to listen to some tunes from the HMV years when I wrote The Phoenix Effect. I’ve mentioned numerous times before that a lot of the music I listened to around that time heavily influenced and/or inspired many of its scenes. But it was also when I had a lot of positive things going on in my life for the first time in ages.
So now the trick is to find some current tunage that can take its place as the writing soundtrack for MU4….I do have a few in mind that have been on frequent rotation here in Spare Oom!
…it’s been far too long since I’ve sat down and let myself get lost in this stuff. I mean, considering I’ve been working on reviving the Walk in Silence book, I think it’s fair to say that a lot of these albums were a huge influence on my high school years, and would fit nicely with the current iteration of this project.
I always call this era of the label’s output autumnal, because a lot of it, at least for me, evokes the feeling of an impending change of seasons near the end of the year. The air growing colder, the sounds of nature growing quieter, the sky greyer. Many of these albums — most of which I had on cassette and played incessantly at night as I went to sleep — might not always invoke a darkness, but more of a sense of desolation and breakdown, and even abandonment at times. You can hear the dust being kicked up as you walk through the wide emptiness of this music.
That, now that I understand music a lot more, was the key to 4AD’s signature sound then. A clever mix of heavy reverberation with sparse instrumentation gives it that same sound that Cowboy Junkies achieved with The Trinity Session when they recorded inside an empty church. Listening to these albums with my Walkman, volume set high and bedroom darkened, I entered another world, sometimes an escape but often times a safe place. I could let my mind and creativity get lost within the music, letting it take me on a metaphysical trip somewhere.
The collection Lonely Is an Eyesore is a great place to start. I listened to this one just a few days ago. Several of its accompanying grainy 8mm and 16mm videos were shown on MTV’s 120 Minutes, which in turn inspired me later on during my college years for my film production classes.
This Mortal Coil was a huge favorite of mine, especially after hearing a few tracks from their second album Filigree & Shadow on college radio in late 1986. That particular album was one of my top favorites in 1987-88 and inspired a lot of story ideas.
Dead Can Dance was a band I’d heard of in passing but it was 1987’s Within the Realm of a Dying Sun that became my all-time favorite of theirs. Not quite chamber music, not quite alternative rock, not quite current orchestral music, this album wasn’t just one that I’d lose myself in at night, it helped me find a Zen calm right when I was at my most anxious.
Cocteau Twins was of course a major influence on my bass playing, thanks to the Blue Bell Knoll album. By late 1988 I had a good portion of their discography on cassette (and a few on vinyl) and I was constantly listening to it. The twin 1985 EPs, Tiny Dynamine and Echoes in a Shallow Bay, remain in heavy rotation after all these years alongside their project with Harold Budd, The Moon and the Melodies.
And of course, let’s not forget the surprise hit by MARRS, a one-off project between 4AD label mates Colourbox and AR Kane. While this one goes against the grain of the typical autumnal sound of the label, it’s so damn catchy and inventive that you can’t help but love it.
Last month, Seal’s second album was rereleased as a remastered deluxe edition, and thirty years later it remains not only his best and most popular album, but it’s also one of my all-time favorite records of the nineties.
This was an album I bought in the final years of being a Columbia House member, and I’d picked it up more out of curiosity than anything. I still consider his single “Crazy” one of my top favorite songs of all time, and I felt this album was more to his style than the funkier r&b of his first record. It was released during an odd time in my life, right at the end of my stay in Boston and the start of my extended stay back in my old hometown, so I connect this with two things: my job at the movie theater in Somerville, and the long process of restarting my writing career. This was one of the many albums I listened to constantly while attempting to figure my life out.
Sure, everyone remembers the ubiquitous single “Kiss from a Rose”, but it also features the popular ballad “Don’t Cry” and the stunning “Prayer for the Dying”, all songs that got major airplay on pop radio and on MTV and VH1.
“Prayer for the Dying” was the track that initially sold me on this record, even though I hadn’t heard it until after “Kiss from a Rose”, which is interesting considering this was the album’s first single. Like “Crazy” it’s full of emotional turmoil and loss. Unlike that track, however, there is much less hope here. That’s not to say it’s a downer track, however; it’s a song about survival, and that makes all the difference.
The album cut “Dreaming in Metaphors” is a track that gets stuck in my head every now and again with its lopsided beats and swirling melody. Like “Prayer” it too is about turmoil, this time focusing on the frustrations of making life needlessly complicated.
“Don’t Cry” was the last single to drop from this album and it got a fair amount of play on VH1 during the winter of 1995. It’s a counterpoint to the above tracks, an uplifting song of hope during the darkest of times. [Side note: I haven’t seen this video in years, so imagine my surprise when watching it and realizing it was shot at the Palace of Fine Arts here in the city!]
Then of course there’s his most popular single, “Kiss from a Rose”, which didn’t just get played on pop radio, I believe Boston’s WFNX and WBCN gave it a few spins as well! It’s also from possibly my favorite Batman movie — yes, I know, but it’s the only one that doesn’t take itself too seriously and yet isn’t a complete dumpster fire either, and it’s got a banger soundtrack.
A and I went to see him live with the SF Symphony back in 2017 for the tour of his Standards album — singing songs like “My Funny Valentine” and “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” is a surprisingly perfect choice for him. While he did mostly songs from that record, he did pull up several hits from his past, including “Kiss from a Rose”, “Don’t Cry” and “Crazy”. He’s still got the pipes after all these years.
I highly recommend picking this one up. While it’s not as funky and unrestrained as his 1990 debut, it shows a singer already fully in charge of his voice and his style. It’s an amazing record, and the remaster sounds great.
I think it was around this time that I started running out of gas while writing The Balance of Light. [For those playing along, I’d stalled right about where Poe follows Denni and Amna up to Trisanda in Act 3. I knew how to end the book…I think I was just afraid of it this huge years-long project finally coming to an end and doing a crap job of it.] To clear my head I’d started working on the vampire novel more often.
Weirdly enough, I think I was just running out of things to listen to…? There’s this strange era between 2004 and 2007 where I’d lost interest in indie radio. It could be that I was stuck between the lingering effects of alternative metal on one end of the spectrum and indie folk that was a little too esoteric on the other, and neither were really resonating with me. That, and a lot of my favorite bands were in between albums so I wouldn’t hear from them for a while longer.
Danger Mouse & Jay-Z, The Grey Album, early April 2004. Looking at my mp3 collection, 2004 was the peak of the initial mash-up wave, and this one is bonkers fun: DM’s decision to take Jay-Z’s The Black Album and The Beatles’ white album and create something new could have been terrible but instead it’s surprisingly enjoyable and highly amusing. Allegedly both Jay-Z and Paul McCartney thought it was great!
Ambulance LTD, LP, 6 April 2004. This band sadly came and went too quickly, releasing only two EPs and a single album, but it’s all worth checking out. I played the hell out of this record in the Belfry at the time, especially the great opener “Yoga Means Union”.
tweaker, 2am wakeup call, 20 April 2004. Chris Vrenna’s second album remains one of my favorite albums of that year, and it got all sorts of play the entire summer. It features vocals from Robert Smith, Hamilton Leithauser and David Sylvian, and a hauntingly gorgeous instrumental track featuring Johnny Marr that I’ve embedded above. Highly recommended.
Prince, Musicology, 20 April 2004. In between all the funk-heavy NPG Music Club albums he’d dropped for the last couple of years, this was a surprise mainstream hit that got considerable airplay both with the title track and “Cinnamon Girl”. It felt like a record on par musically with Sign ‘o’ the Times for me.
The Beta Band, Heroes to Zeros, 4 May 2004. Their last record’s title may have hit a bit too close to home considering they were no longer indie critic darlings at the time, but that didn’t seem to bother them any with this oddball collection.
The Magnetic Fields, i, 4 May 2004. The fun thing about Stephin Merritt and his many projects is that you can never really take him all that seriously, even when he’s writing breakup songs. Between his basso profundo voice and his quirky and self-effacing lyrics, you can’t help but like him. “I Thought You Were My Boyfriend” was a college radio favorite.
Mission of Burma, ONoffON, 4 May 2004. Their first new album in multiple decades, three of the four original members come back with a loud and blistering record that successfully captures their chaotic post-punk sound that influenced so many others. The fascinating thing is that there’s also an element of quietness here as well, inspired by the members’ time in much calmer bands.
Secret Machines, Now Here Is Nowhere, 18 May 2004. This was another favorite of the year, and an album that got a ton of play during my writing sessions for its deep dive into hard rock tinged with eclectic prog and maybe even a bit of psychedelia. This one earned them a small but highly loyal fanbase that remains to this day and even spread to the side project School of Seven Bells. Highly recommended.
The Fall, 50,000 Fall Fans can’t Be Wrong: 39 Golden Greats, 8 June 2004. A near-perfect sampler of a band with a convoluted discography on several different labels and an always-shifting membership. It’s oddly missing songs from I Am Kurious Oranj however, the 1988 album that helped them gain considerably more popularity in indie circles.
My Chemical Romance, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, 8 June 2004. You either love this band or you hate them. For me, they were a band I disliked at first but heard “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” and “Helena” so much on WHMP that they grew on me. Not quite goth, not quite alternative metal, not quite emo, but somewhere in between.
The Killers, Hot Fuss, 15 June 2004. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t the biggest fan of this band at first, and the breakthrough single “Somebody Told Me” just kind of bounced right off of me as too glam and too alt-rock-goes-disco for my tastes, but the more I heard the other singles the more I liked them, and finally bought it when I heard “All The Things That I’ve Done” which remains one of my favorite songs of theirs.
The Cure, The Cure, 29 June 2004. I’d mentioned this one earlier when I blogged about the band’s 2000s-era releases, and at the time I really wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I liked it, especially the darker-edged songs like “Lost” and “The End of the World”, but its sound was just so unlike them that it was a bit of a hard listen.
I often say that 2005 was the year of major change in my life (getting married and moving twice and all, among other things), but it really started in 2004. I’d met A online and by the summer we were constantly running into each other on LiveJournal. I was writing The Balance of Light at the time and having a terrible time with it, and writing a vampire novel as a way to distract myself. I’d head to my first Worldcon that autumn when it came to Boston. I’d quit buying comics cold turkey when my go-to comics store closed up shop, and I even started thinking seriously about looking to find my own apartment. Life was changing whether I was ready for it or not.
Musically I’d latched onto LAUNCHcast, a sort of proto-Spotify site where one could curate a playlist by way of a ratings system. [And given that my house was in a radio desert, I couldn’t always listen to WHMP or WFNX at the time unless I was in the car or using my stereo upstairs.] Given my music obsessions, it wasn’t long before it provided me with the kind of indie and electronic rock I enjoyed so much.
The Crystal Method, Legion of Boom, 13 January 2004. I’d completely forgotten there was an album between this one and their mega-selling Vegas (the one with “Busy Child” and “Trip Like I Do” on it), so I thought I’d try them out again. This one got a bit of play in the Belfry during my writing sessions.
Air, Talkie Walkie, 20 January 2004. This band is on the ‘I will buy anything from them’ list, and this one became a huge favorite of mine that year, getting a lot of play all around, not just during writing sessions but my occasional road trips as well. I loved that it retained the dreaminess of their Moon Safari album yet sounded futuristic.
Stereolab, Margerine Eclipse, 27 January 2004. Another band I was woefully behind on in terms of collecting at the time, I liked playing this one on the weekends when I had my hours-long writing sessions.
Yes, The Ultimate Yes: 35th Anniversary Collection, 27 January 2004. I’d always been a huge fan of this band, though everything I owned of theirs was on scratchy used vinyl, having acquired them over the years in dollar bins, heh. This was a great full discography-so-far collection that was quite a pleasure to listen to.
The Walkmen, Bows + Arrows, 3 February 2004. Long before Hamilton Leithauser showed up on indie radio with his solo and collective projects, he was the lead singer of this great indie band that got a ton of play on LAUNCHcast and college radio with the song “The Rat”. Highly recommended.
Incubus, A Crow Left of the Murder…, 4 February 2004. Sure, you hear those same two or three hit singles from this band on alternative rock radio these days. Back when this came out, the singles “Megalomaniac” and “Talk Shows on Mute” got a ton of play on alternative radio, but sadly this album tends to be forgotten for the most part. It’s one of their most tense and dense records though, and well worth checking out.
Franz Ferdinand, Franz Ferdinand, 9 February 2004. Yes, that band with that song! They’ve always been a bit of an oddball band that slid between arty post-punk and groovy glam and somehow made it not just fresh and new, but made it irresistibly catchy as well.
Junkie XL, Radio JXL: A Broadcast from the Computer Hell Cabin, 10 February 2004. One of my favorite records of the year, this is a two-cd collection of electronic rock and house mixes and a thrill to listen to. Released just a few years before Tom Holkenborg focused mostly on film scores, this one’s highly recommended.
Audio Learning Center, Cope Park, 26 February 2004. This not-quite-grunge rock band from Portland were big on the moodier pockets of the genre, leaning a bit more towards emo and post-rock in some places. They only dropped two albums (this is the second) but they’re well worth checking out. This one got a lot of play in the Belfry.
TV On the Radio, Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes, 9 March 2004. I picked this one up mainly due to the fact that every music critic out there were getting their minds blown by this record, and they weren’t wrong. I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this band at first, considering their sound back then was a bit difficult to describe. But the track “Dreams” was just so emotionally dire that I knew then that this was a record I’d enjoy.
The Vines, Winning Days, 21 March 2004. Their second record after the critically acclaimed Highly Evolved was a bit of both ‘more of the same’ and ‘heading further into psychedelia’ and while it wasn’t as popular as their debut, it was just as enjoyable to listen to.
The Standard, Wire Post to Wire, 23 March 2004. I latched onto the track “Even Numbers” via LAUNCHcast and I picked this one up soon after I’d heard it maybe twice. They were another Portland band made out of former members of other local indie groups, and this was their third and most popular album. This one got a lot of play in the Belfry as well.
Jem, Finally Woken, 24 March 2004. This quirky British singer had a minor hit with the trippy “They” single that got a lot of play on the local indie rock stations and kind of labeling her as a one hit wonder in the process, but the rest of this album is well worth checking out. To me she was like Alison Goldfrapp only a lighter and trippier.
L’arc~en~Ciel, Smile, 31 March 2004. I’d been a fan of this band since hearing “Spirit Dreams Inside” at the tail end of the 2001 Final Fantasy movie, but alas they were always super hard to find unless I was willing to spend thirty dollars on Japanese imports. This was one of their first American releases and featured one of their best hits and their most popular, “Ready Steady Go” (which at the time was also the opening theme for the anime show Fullmetal Alchemist).
It’s been an interesting month here in Spare Oom, listening to a lot of great new releases alongside some older favorites, and somehow squeezing all that in between the Day Job and writing! Here’s the latest on my playlist…
Khruangbin, A LA SALA, 5 April. This band is kind of hard to categorize, as they tend to waver between Latinx pop, laid back jamming, maybe a bit of southern folk and maybe even a bit of jazz. Their new album is quite an enjoyable listen.
Garbage, Bleed Like Me Deluxe Edition, 5 April. After 2001’s synth-heavy Beautiful Garbage and failing at a follow-up they were happy with, they chose instead to return to their guitar roots and made a badass heavy record and regained their fanbase. This new deluxe edition features several b-sides and remixes.
The Black Keys, Ohio Players, 5 April. This duo is back with a sound that fuses their trademark indie blues with heavy funk and creating a wildly fun album. A lot of the critics and fans are really digging this one right now.
Vampire Weekend, Only God Was Above Us, 5 April. It’s been three years since their odd experimental release 40:42 and five since their last album Father of the Bride, but it’s well worth the wait. They’ve fully moved past their twee indie pop and gone straight into Flaming Lips-like weirdness yet still maintaining their pop sensibilities. Weird yet great.
Bad Bad Hats, Bad Bad Hats, 12 April. This album is so much fun!! On par with the oddball indie pop sounds of Wet Leg and beabadoobee, I instantly fell in love with the earwormy single “My Heart Your Heart” (which is one of my favorite songs of the moment). I highly recommend checking this one out!
cruush, Nice Things Now, All the Time EP, 12 April. If you love the sounds of early 90s 4AD like Lush and Pale Saints, you’ll probably love this band as well. I’ve been a big fan since hearing their single “bckwards 36” a few years back, and hope to see more from them soon.
Nia Archives, Silence Is Loud, 12 April. I heard of her via KEXP of course, and I love that she’s used the classic drum ‘n bass beat on this track as a way to balance the up-down moodiness. The whole album is an interesting trip.
English Teacher, This Could Be Texas, 12 April. Another oddball indie pop band with super catchy songs. This one’s all over the place sonically and lyrically but that’s its charm: you never quite know where it’s going to go next. Highly recommended.
The Reds, PInks & Purples, Unwishing Well, 12 April. Glenn Donaldson’s latest somehow manages to be even better than his last RP&P album, which was amazing in itself. As always, recommended if you love the dreamy echoey sounds of 80s college radio.
Pearl Jam, Dark Matter, 19 April. They can do quiet just as well as they can do loud, and when they do loud it’s always powerful. The new record might not be as heavy as 2020’s Gigaton, but it’s just as energetic as they were in their 90s heyday.
Lucy Rose, This Ain’t the Way You Go Out, 19 April. Somehow she reminds me of some of the 90s women of alternative rock I liked so much — she definitely reminds me of Jen Trynin’s work, but with a more Joni Mitchell style — but also those of today like Lucy Dacus. A fine songwriter worth checking out.
St Vincent, All Born Screaming, 26 April. Annie Clark is back once again being weird and quirky and sexy and strange, sometimes within the space of a single song. It’s a welcome return to her Masseduction sound.
Whoo! For so early in the year, there were a ton of great new releases that dropped this past month! Not only that, several are from some of my favorite bands! A lot of these are definitely going to be on rotation once I get started with writing Theadia.
Kaiser Chiefs, Kaiser Chiefs’ Easy Eighth Album, 1 March. Surprising that they’ve only released eight albums considering they’ve been on my radar since 2005! (I tend to equate them with my brief time in Jersey and our move to SF.) They take an interesting left turn into summery funk here, complete with help from Nile Rodgers himself on the above track!
Liam Gallagher & John Squire, Liam Gallagher & John Squire, 1 March. The sneery voice of Oasis and the excellent guitarist from The Stone Roses get together and the end result is intriguing…it’s a wild mashup of sounds from their previous bands and it works unexpectedly well. [I still say Noel’s the better songwriter, though.]
Yard Act, Where’s My Utopia?, 1 March. I love how hilariously nerdy and goofy this band is. James Smith delivers his lyrics in such an unassuming talk-singing way that you think he’s channeling The Fall’s Mark E. Smith or Art Brut’s Eddie Argos, but once you pay attention to his ramblings you’re laughing and wondering what he’s on about. A super fun band well worth checking out.
Torrey, Torrey, 8 March. Slumberland is becoming the new 4AD for me, in that I’m pretty much picking up and devouring several things they’re putting out. [It helps that they’re local and carry some of those super-local bands I love so dearly.] KEXP loves this one a lot and so do I.
FLOYA, Yume, 8 March. I didn’t know much of anything about this band other than they’re metal and from Australia…and chose to change direction on their new record by writing poppy upbeat music that could fit easily on pop radio. Their positive vibe kind of remind me of The Sound of Arrows in a way, and that’s pretty much what intrigued me.
crushed, extra life, 15 March. I’ll try out any shoegazey band that captures the same moods that Curve does, even if it’s less wall-of-sound and more like an aural blanket. Really good stuff here that I need to pay attention to.
Four Tet, Three, 15 March. I’ve known about this musician for a while and he’d gotten a ton of positive press over the years, but surprisingly this was the first album I’d picked up! His work is fascinating in that it’s not quite electronic, but not quite jazz either.
Hooverphonic, Fake Is the New Dope, 21 March. Somehow I’d completely missed that one of my all-time favorite bands of the 90s dropped an album, even though I knew they’d been releasing teaser singles from it since late last year! I’m really digging this one (no big surprise) as it leans quite heavily on their jazzy electronic style. Really great stuff, and I’m sure this one’s going to be on heavy rotation soon enough.
Elbow, AUDIO VERTIGO, 22 March. Another one of my favorite bands, this one from the early 00s, their sound has evolved so much over the last two decades that each album sounds slightly different from everything else they’ve done. This one expands on their previous two records by leaning more on the twitchier side of things. This one’s also getting a lot of play.
Salt Cathedral, Before It’s Gone, 22 March. Thanks to KEXP for this one as well, they’re that kind of moody indietronica I really like. They’re kind of an odd mix that reminds me a little of early Sarah McLachlan in her more obscure moments.
The Jesus and Mary Chain, Glasgow Eyes, 22 March. [C/W: lots of flashy in this video.] I am really liking this new J+MC record!! It’s got the mood of some of their best earlier works like Automatic but with the warmer sounds of Honey’s Dead baked in. I highly recommend it!
Ride, Interplay, 29 March. Loving this one as well, but then again I’ve been a Ride fan for decades now. Their version of shoegaze always had that bright and breezy feel to it, unlike the density of bands like My Blood Valentine. Definitely going to be playing this one.
The Church, Eros Zeta & the Perfumed Guitars, 29 March. This one snuck out on me unexpectedly, and I’m already fascinated by it. The band is essentially singer Steve Kilbey and whoever he’s hanging with at the time, so while it may not have their signature chimey jangle, it does have their reverb-drenched dreaminess they’ve always been known for. This and their previous record sees them going in a very odd direction indeed, almost prog-experimental, yet not without a sense of humor to it.
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Stay tuned for April, with new releases from The Black Keys, Vampire Weekend, James, The Reds Pinks & Purples (yay!), and St Vincent!
Walk In Silence 