Bent Shapes - Wolves of Want
Nearly wrote 'em off as all-too-familiars whose LP here seemed all-too-curt, but the chummy+canny pop sensibilities are strong with this one -- frontman Ben Potrykus's proneness towards (actual) singing is appreciated as is his casually savvy lyricism, front-ish-woman Jenny Mudarri provides ample backups and ah-ah-ah's for supplementary sweetness, and their output evokes/ensues the bygone Masshole-alt-rock lineage of Buffalo Tom or The Lemonheads or when they get fuzzy and solo-y, perhaps some Dino Jr.; albeit peppier interpretations. Bonus points for still tossing in the ol' acoustic+piano down-n-out ender and suddenly breakin' out the wordy-n-goofball plain-spoken section in the middle of a sub-2-minute tune. I think we can all agree that "Xerox Voids" ends way too abruptly at just over a minute, though. 7/10
Bullion - Loop the Loop
Simulates a dreamy vacay on a friendly-robot island -- the outre-tropical sun-kissed pop and boyishly wide-eyed harmonizing meshed with genial and dexterous electro-doodling makes for an animated and elaborate sojourn that should secure accolades from Animal Collective as well as an Eno endorsement. But through all the instrumental and tectonic prowess, he seldom comes off as anything but debonair: wind-swept strings and bird-chirps assure refined relief yet he's not shy bout spacing out for a bit or getting his goof-swank on, the elusion of exceedingly-cheery cheese makes leisure sound fetching even to a worrywart workhorse, heck there's even pieces of eugenic encouragement: championing change despite the complications it may lay on ya, literally+figuratively gettin' your feet wet, embracing cleverness+finding confidence. Given the record at hand, all are concepts he clasps tight. 7/10
Zach Cooper - The Sentence
The Sentence spelled out via song-title sequence: This Is For Us To Incite Stillness In Our Hearts And Minds. The Sentence bestowed via actual auditory adventure on the other hand, somewhat incarcerative. Its shaky tape-recorder braiding of rando-noise/instrumental tinkering/mysterious-yet-consoling jazz-flute ambiance creates an intriguing and unique microcosm, one that could be likened to a sort of old-timey movie score gone wishy-washy lo-fi gallimaufry -- but torpidity and irresolute floundering make for a pretty tough slog, and the extensive sonic asperity and quick+loud bursts of weird-n-shrill don't do much to incite stillness in my heart and/or mind, personally. And what would room-fuzz exploration be if it didn't include extrinsic bits of dialogue? Two tidbits that may be inklings towards this album's conception: "Umm..I was just..not really thinking" and "Okay, you start something, whatever you wanna start.." followed by stress-breath. Perhaps this was an incarcerative sentence for Z Coops (and crew?) too. 5/10
DJWWWW - Arigato
Well, I adore the introductory melodious mosquito choir and the methods administered on followup "Sampling" so it lives up to its appellation; i.e. the bairn beckoning for ya to take a looksie under his sheet of mystery to reveal a getaway car/building demolition/person getting eaten/etc. And 4 realz, kicks are gotten from the majority of this throng-o-sounds, along with the comprehensive commingling of the recognizably contempo+the absolutely absurd that spews forth during this spastic avant-collage: flashes of Future/a Death Grips blip/a countdown into waves of Animal Collective rub shoulders with feminine cackling/rousing robots/choking humans/sundry gunfire/all sortsa miscellany and percussive implements. But much like this description suggests, raucous dizziness is its downfall -- so much is thrown at you but there's not a-lotta stickage, and the persistently transformative nature of it overwhelms to a fault. Then there's that extreme+vexatious volume spike at the midway point, perhaps an intentional shake-up seeing that it succeeds the interludial sleep-mode breath-catcher of "iPod". Elsewhere, "Network" says "network" alot, "DIS" says "bitch" alot, and ender "Hometown" serves as a congrats-you-made-it consolation prize; fittingly soothing like a revisit to a good one should. Which is a relief. Which you'll need. 6/10
Eskimeaux - Year of the Rabbit [EP]
Sports three titles that could fly on a Kanye album and three that allude to animals, and yes duh they still align with the hypothetical adorability of the latter all the way. Their brand of shy-n-soft vivacity remains a bit more compelling and, well, vivacious, compared to the maybe-too-meager-ness of collaborator/friend Frankie Cosmos; but on the whole this is of that ol' EP type: ya know, the kinda-passive, chiefly sub-3-minute songs that neither jar nor bore in particular, cordially-adequate sort. Topics include the complications of companionship, the potential derived from a day alone, and up-n-coming NYC musician life: i.e. the yearning/gratitude for a simple dinner date instead of gettin' bogged down by all those pesky newfound plans. Crucial Query: "What the fuck is a kiss anyway?" 7/10
Father - I'm a Piece of Shit
I'd argue that guest-crony ILoveMakonnen is the real piece of shit when it gets down to the shitty-nitty-gritty, but Father's certainly got a point: evidently he's self-aware at least, though it doesn't stop him from threatening to put a bitch outside if she talks to him wrong or droppin' her at lost-n-found after he dicks her down. Right, not too freakish for hip-hop -- but what really seals the spurn is that unlike his comrade, he's got nothin' in the way of croon-clout; usually settling for torpid murmuring or gibber-groans or sleaze-stuffed sniveling. When torpidity is at its worst, I question if he's even conscious; when sleaze equals redundant sex-n-drugs raunch and porno-moans and "that sweat that funk that nasty", it's barely bearable. Sniveling at its most pitiful, however, is when he turns endearing: "I wanna die a little, cry a little, get a little high right now", "Started capping pills but I can't get my dick to stay hard". Always helps when chauvinistic lechery slowly reveals itself as jaded loneliness. ~*~meh~*~
Frankie Cosmos - Next Thing
With a mild modesty that's heartrending as it is heartwarming and the scanty-n-pure in-a-room instrumentation there to correspond, the charm of low-key personable perspicuity and tenderness that doesn't nauseate works wonders. Can't say it doesn't leave these cozily terse tunes a bit lacking and/or overly meek at times, though. I can say that said scanty instrumentation does elevate the enjoyment of distant dream-synths when those decide to pop up, however. Also relished is the 20-year old sell-out with the corporation's pen and the composed glee over that friends+touring lyfe: the latter of which enables her to not only "embody all the grace and lightness", but also "warm my vocals, sing a song / sit in cars, read a book." Ah, best of both worlds. 6.5/10
Kamaiyah - A Good Night in the Ghetto
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
Rather than target mere nineties nostalgia, Kamaiyah trajects something more along the lines of assured nineties make-believe: rockin' brick phones+beepers+Guess gear, an N64-flaunting music video, interludial landline phone-rings, the 'hoochie-hoo's and 'woopty-woop's, tunes titled "Mo Money Mo Problems" and "One Love". But despite the well-touted throwback traits, this is a straight-up hip-hop refresher -- not just cuz this unapologetic freaky-freak hoyden-queen crushes most of her peers in frequently fluent verse-work and can absolutely rock a hook besides, or from the beats not being produced by Trap-Dude-X for once -- but for seemingly evading violence in favor of rags-to-success euphoria/living every damn day like it's Friday/fuckin' up the club, from the advocacy of a girl looking to 'break down' the guy for a change while declining to become his tied-down steady, cuz "Come Back" is a lush r&b request for an ex to stay put rather than return. And just when you think it's all one ginormous sex-gala, in swoops a tearjerker finale; wherein her cancer-stricken dawg is movingly/somberly serenaded and the possibility of drinkin' out the bottle getting outta hand is professed. For someone claiming to have been doin' her own thang since like '94, not bad: theoretically, she would've just begun learning how to talk. 8/10
Matt Karmil - IDLE033
Combating garishness all the way via understated bass-murk submergence and not being in a rush to get somewhere, this gamut of electro-instrumentals skulks its way through chopped-n-crackly ambience, lumpy slow-churnin' chill-outs, reticent-n-loopy hip-hop, ominous+oscillating specter ensembles, and for the terminal twosome, a revitalizing superimposition into surprisingly snappy techno. In a sea of slackened adequacies that are agreeable but never astounding, the principal-persuader award goes to "Freeform"; whose multitudinous incessancy at least comes close. 6/10
Moonsorrow - Jamalten Aika
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
Can't say they (like most) are able to wind through a 5-track 67-minute metal-epic without growing at least a wee bit burdensome, but oof do they wind through. From the broad and never-vagabond ebb-n-flow to the earnest-as-fuck chanting to the seamless transitioning in and outta heavy+roaring riffery/incantational in-a-storm fossil-folk/boingy-boing breakdowns, this is a masterstroke in the commixing of savage, seasoned, triumphant, traditional. An odyssey where gremlin-esque zoogenic snarls and direly dusty shouts of anguish are as imperative as the call-n-response fragile wizard and larger-than-life group-gods, the crushing+furious as riveting as the tender acoustics and ominous outdoorsy atmospherics of rope-creaks and bubblin' streams. See memorabilia-of-masterstroke "Mimisbrunn" for an adept sum-up of these fine traits, but plz refer to entire masterstroke for the masterstroke. 8/10
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