Camp Cope - Camp Cope
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
The introductory coulda-been-dead shoula-helped-him mystery body that Aussie singer-punker-songwriter Georgia Maq walks past may come off a tad trite, but her ineffable performance paints the picture perfectly and pulls you in pronto -- a pattern which follows for the full duration of this no-frills no-filler helluva debut, minus the trite and renewed with the personal+remarkable. All at once a desensitized+medicated hospital worker too weak to hold her guitar, an anxious busker ignored by tranq-toting classmates, a truth-craving textbook devotee and somber stepfather dedicator; 'Lost' is how she feels inside and what she watches in bed when her separated sig-other is on tour "out feeling everything", breakup heartbreak slightly wanes when she hears the ex's new boo was Tinder-borne, the rationale of career cat-callers and good-guy-with-gun facilitators is decried in an understated anthem so stunningly rousing it deserves a sincere salute, and she uses the goddamn Australian slang version of 'grouse' to describe smoochin' a dude to Tigers Jaw. Though grateful for the modest oomph that accompanying drums-n-bass provide -- particularly dat playful bass -- peepzin' solo sets via YouTube prove she and these tunes are no-less wonderful on their unadorned own. I mean, the charismatically detailed scenarios are one thing. The doubt, the anger, the dire defeatism, the glimmers of hope, the perpetually palpable passion, the relationship goalz of being losers forever and drinking coffee in bed together? They go a long way. 9/10
ColdWorld - Autumn
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
Those who like their black metal mucky may find this too clean, those who dig interspersed cleans may find his too mumbly, momentum and riffage are arguably a bit middle-of-the-road -- but besides a sparse wind+leaves interlude break, the all-encompassing combo of fury+rue rarely falters, oh-so-cogently blending hypnotic layers-o-loud with epic synth-voice patches and weeping violins. And though raspy shrieks are likely his true vocal-calling, the mumbly works too; as his down-n-out droning fits all too un-happily in saddest+slowest/but still roaring "Woods of Emptiness". The tail-end bellowing 'woah's and the occasional particularly beastly bloodcurdler screams are nice too, but the oral peak fo sho comes during the least-void "Void"; when a crunchy pick slide from heaven opens the gates for a grand goblin+angel duet for the ages. 8/10
DJ N.K. - DJ Do Ghetto
Comin' straight outta Lisbon, this delirium-activating disc jockey fuses the sonorities of tribal, club, accelerated city lyfe, and warped what-the -- unsurprisingly label-mates with like-minded year-fave DJ TiGa, albeit N.K. don't fuck wit rappers and remixing; rather aiming for uber-bustling groove-barrages of percussion aplenty, eccentric electro spurts, literal bells+whistles, and intermittent monosyllabic voice clips. Unrelentingly heavy-n-heady-n-hasty, it delivers a dizzyingly detailed romp, though undeniably a draining one. Standout touches include the fat+formidable ah-shit horns of "Punched Horn" and a windswept flute in "Tribalistic Face", TiGa-ish touches include gunshots and rapid-fire yellin'. 7/10
Gap Dream - This is Gap Dream
If you possess a general fondness towards the whole 70s proto-punk thing or that there 90s lo-fi stuff or hey why not 60s girl pop and primitive electro pulsations, you're bound to be at least a little charmed fo sho. And if you happen to like it vague&lax and jumblingly hosted by a one-man kinda-awk amateur, this may be your Gap Dream indeed. Catchy, bit-o-weird and warm-toned, innocuous enough -- notable for delivering highlights while in hiding-in-the-basement hush mode. Hush Mode Matters: feeling separated from the world and no longer looking forward to tomorrow, rock n roll, death rock. 7/10
JK Flesh - Rise Above
Does the trick if the itch that needs scratchin' involves thick+reliable 4/4 thumps and a comprehensive industrial pummeling. Static and scrunches are scrupulous, bass earthshaking, blunt as all hell but doesn't skimp on submerged grooves and subtleties; its depth and masterly marriage of doomsday muck and heavy house are appreciated. But oof, that relentless denseness and same-tempo stomp over-n-over tho. Got me feeling like a soulless nothin' working an assembly line in hell -- which I could see getting sucked into, honestly. 5.5/10
Nao - For All We Know
As if to deliberately defy my disappointment in the brevity of their EP last year, they clock in almost an hour here; tossin' in behind-the-scenes studio scraps as intervalic unnecessaries and an intro and an appreciated alternate take on an old one ("Inhale Exhale") and still thirteen songs besides. Thing is tho that other gripe is still a thing, i.e. they really don't seem to churn out anything extraordinary, and despite lil dreamy ventures into space and "sloooow motioooon", don't dare go above-n-beyond. Certainly capable of bringin' that deep+amiable electro-funk throughout and impressively consistent considering the mass trax, but there's maybe a handful of tunes that don't seem interchangeable. Isn't best when a good singer gets stuck in by-the-books banal r&b mode and ultimately grates, neither. Nice as a fine and dandy electro-friendly funk/r&b blur. 6/10
Elza Soares - A Mulher do Fim do Mundo (2015 original/2016 international release)
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
Just the fact that a hardshipped 79-year old Brazilian samba legend was the driving vocal force behind an album called 'The Woman at the End of the World' intrigued in itself, then they go ahead and destroy all expectations with ease. A band altogether funkier, post-punkier, more soulful, and certainly more trained than most; which amidst dual guitar clash-duels and percussion aplenty lies quite the predilection for cacophony-n-exploration along with wild horn/somber string sections when needed. Bookended with a-cappellas for potency and overall really the kind of rich+raw intricacy a voice and persona like Soares's deserves, what with her hair-raising poignancy and tough-as-nails snarls and desert-dry gasps and speedy sputterin' and gravel garglin' and and loogie hawkin'. Absorbing enough for these oft-wonderful Portuguese words to fall on deaf American ears and not have it be bothersome, but a translation is recommended no doubt. What a woman who's been in it some 60 years now promises during what just may be The End Of The World: "I will sing until the end." What she sputters during "Pra Fuder": "To fuck." 8/10
Trim - 1-800-Dinosaur Presents Trim
Defensive+dramatic Brit MC curated by minimalist-weirdo-electro production posse featuring the likes of Airhead, Bullion, James Blake -- skilled-n-stalwart guy assuredly, distinct style, good for a cutting quip here and a tangled ramble there, but uptight enough to suck the fun out of a room. Despite being a bit of a non-meshin' mixed bag, the production posse does aight. The adventurous blending of Trim+Blake, however, is really rather painful. 5.5/10
Wilco - Schmilco
As somewhat suspected from the comical cover art and celerity of completion, this seems like a spiritual sequel to a-year-ago's 'Star Wars'. A soberer softie one, sure, but one that sees these confirmed-adept rockers humbly exhibit their acoustic+brush-drum chops with the same laid-back 'tude that charmed on its predecessor. And since they're Wilco we get guitar layering both lush+tight and whiny+rusty, all-around pleasant proficiency except when purposely mucking it up and then it's still aight, an assortment of nice lil touches such as stick-hits and scuzz jams and keyb flourishes. And since they're in nonchalant mellow mode we get a sense of routine passivity, a few true standouts and a few true inessentials, a handful of lines that fall dead flat and a bunch more that do nothin'. Or is that usually just Wilco anyway and the restraint here simply starts to drag? 6.5/10
Wreck and Reference - Indifference Rivers Romance End
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
This tortured pair of drone-experi-metal sonnetists follow wounded ravens into abstraction, face the direction that flowers droop ("down"), reiterate "within a jail" four times and an unhinged "that's fine" twelve, alternate/amalgamate hoarse screams of unembellished anguish with soft-spoken straight-up talking. So yeah, their dramaturgy can drain+bug -- but between the outrageous emotion and complete lack thereof and almost operatic flow of tumult/tension/explosions/chilly stills/stone-faced spoken word, it's ultimately quite arresting and makes for some bitter-n-breathtaking grandeur. Shove feelings down my facehole and gimme moments of comparable mansuetude for reflection and a few eyerolls, sure that works. 7/10
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Alcest - Kodama 6.5/10
Lexxi - 5TARB01 [EP] 7/10
Noname - Telefone 7/10
Rival Consoles - Night Melody 6.5/10
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