Bleached - Can You Deal? [EP]
With 4 tunes that are sweet-n-catchy perhaps but stiff-n-obvious fo sho and never match the magic of their last LP? Yeah, I spose. 6/10
Earthen Sea - An Act of Love
One part dawdling ominous ambient, four parts dawdling ordinary ambient, three parts beat-driven deep-dub submergence -- which is too tenacious+trancelike for dawdling perhaps, but uneventful enough to earn drab. ~*~meh~*~
Hand Habits - Wildly Idle (Humble Before the Void)
Well it's not WILDLY idle per se. But once comfy inside that sunkissed sphere of slow goin' dream-folk they sure ain't hustling neither. Which is fine; hustle isn't decisive, they're comfy from the get-go and dat sphere is seemly. But ooo, quite dull-n-dozy too: maybe not from the get-go but soon enough. 5/10
Jay Som - Everybody Works
Comes off as a conventional Cali-indie singer-songwriter patchwork: the dreamy-jangly gentle, the intimate acoustic, the crunchy power chords+dueling sour solos, the fusion of lo-fi and lush. And while none of it necessarily stuns, all of it is pretty damn amiable. The uber-warmth is steadily winsome, guitar tones are particularly terrific, you get your choice of choice choruses and mini-mantras -- my fave of which promises punctuality, lets light in through the blinds, and helps shape a beautiful finale buildup for the ages. Which, okay sure, stuns. 7/10
The Magnetic Fields - 50 Song Memoir
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
Anyone who's been aware of dry-witted magnetic pop mastermind Stephin Merritt for more than a minute should know he's also a concept connoisseur, and in celebration of turning quinquagenarian and just-himself-in-general duh, that convention continues. With each disc representing a decade's worth of life and lasting a substantial+reasonable ~30 minutes, we get a semi-crucial and humorous peek into all age chunks: skeptical yet captivated by cockroach reincarnation as punishment for bad behavior and misconstruing protests over paedocide pre-six, up past bedtime ordering disco comps off television and forming rickety "bands" during a brutal blizzard pre-high school, cultural all-nighters at Danceteria and failing/passing ethics in fabulous fashion circa academia, broke and crammed in an apartment with pals-n-pets-n-bugs in his twenties, staying faithful to his bar and an ex in his thirties, hatin' on surfin' and being misquoted in his forties, wishing he had as many solid memories as he does songs when approaching the big 5-0. Given the towering track tally and perhaps those fadin' memories, there's also of course the etceteras and goofs with varying degrees of comparable worth and autobio-centricity -- but 1999's "Sweet Lovin' Man" turning cold-blooded for 2004 and the optimistic na-na-na's for a shall-not-be-named dead creep are highlights fo sho, while the detailed 1981 synthesizer demonstration met with the careless clatter of harebrained self-deprecation ten years later kinda sums up their shtick. As does the all-around lyrical acumen. 7.5/10
Mega Bog - Happy Together
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
I swear I hear a jerky-n-raucous post-punk party in there but it's so decked out in downplayed dream-state that what emanates is more like atmospheric pop rock. Which doesn't mean they ain't dynamic and bouncy and all-around dexterous as fuck -- that they are, the airy veneer just happens to add an agreeable aura of easygoing elegance. And so lovely when horns follow suit; seamlessly shoehorned into the mix with passion+purpose rather than defaulting to squawk mode. Capable of a crew as this is, their potential as of now seems deliberately buried -- many-an unnecessarily terse tune, some slipshod instrumental sections that don't add nothin' -- and though band-head Erin Birgy's vox have their quirk+charm, it'd be nice to see some more oomph in em. But hey, the effortlessly beautiful beside some keyboard stompings, not a bad synthesis. 7.5/10
Noveller - A Pink Sunset For No One
Initially was yawning through what I perceived to be drone-float indolence, eventually tho found myself rather swept away by its sneakily deep low-key lushness. With a credentials list that also contains filmmaker and affiliate of Glenn Branca's assemblages, it's no surprise that she grasps the power of stirring score-like compositions and guitar layerin' -- what is remarkable however is her sonic contributions always amounting to much more than just a moody backdrop and not yielding to austere over-orchestration. Immersive and pretty say yeah. 7/10
Object Collection - cheap&easy OCTOBER
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
Was both enthralled-n-repulsed by this hawkishly un-musical musical art-school-play mania; and upon learning this is indeed a staged performance piece that only seems to include instruments for additional anarchy, color me enlightened as well. Strident scripted discourse, semi-controlled chaos to the nth degree, savage all-out 10-person scuzz-fests merging with meandering elementary dissonance, the pomposity of politics+philosophy+such in the spoken word format -- they're bent on agitation and exasperation for sure. But oh what a cast: esteemed dialoguers bursting with personality that are smart and silly and stimulating on the regz, unforgiving violin shredders that impart frantic protest participations and a lovely description of Pac-Man and 2017 as we know it/20202025. At least they know something bout thematics and flow, noise piles don't hurt neither. 8/10
Pallbearer - Heartless
These coffin-carrying slow+steady heavy-riff-heads aren't the macabre maulers ya may be expecting, and they certainly ain't heartless -- their melodic chops and stretches of soft and prudent performances say otherwise. Gorgeously sprawl-n-soar-n-groove they do, graceful passages that emit emotional epicness and staidly rock your face off are provided and oft-parallel. Gets ho-hum on the whole tho -- their studied arrangements and samey-paced wanderings tend to usurp the tunes+juice. As does the bleary wail-rawk vox. 6.5/10
Sorority Noise - You're Not As ____ As You Think
"Cuz I've lost too many friends / So I'll say it again and again and again.." -- and that he does indeed do and do and do. Props on the upped production successfully sprinklin' in some more pretty+polish, but combined with Boucher's frank-as-fuck mope it gets to the point where it all feels so strained. Friend-of-suicider sympathizer I am, lyrically however this is nearly insufferable -- mourning tragedies and yourself is one thing, but using a chum's self-induced overdose to challenge the existence/intentions of god? Chronic oral obits for pals who've passed yet calling your animate ones mouth-breathers and threatening to disappear? Telling a concerned party to meet him in hell and then adding "It gets pretty hot where I live"? "This is the part where I'm a marathon runner and both my ankles are sprained"? And don't get me started on what's happening in heaven. 5.5/10
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