Chino Amobi - Paradiso
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
This hell-city electro free-for-all thrill ride can seem overstuffed and unkempt and downright torturous, but so much of it is out-of-this-world electrified and massive and LOUD. Dip and dawdle and wander it may, but if anything the weirdo flow makes this journey all the more multifaceted, detailed, epic -- even after 10+ listens the shocking parts still shock me and could swear I'm hearing some of it for the very first time. Beyond the robust walls-of-sound, there's so much more to it: his very own radio DJ/Paradiso promoter confirming the holy-shit kickoff three tracks in and later returning as a funhouse attendant/Paradiso promoter, prevailing spoken word (tho sometimes buried in exploding sparkly filth or pummeled by bashing the Street Fighter button), now-n-again raps more like rabid animal yellin', slice of straight pop and sporadic segue into garage rock demo, Elysia Crampton sequel and Nkisi edit that he makes his own, stealing Amnesia Scanner's squeal. Keeps on going after the declared finale, even. Prevailing Themes: chicken feet, poop brains. 8/10
Anamai - What Mountain
Not that this breed of minimal folk and malign murk ain't eerily placid and mesmeric. The droning goes deep without dipping too much into dormant, I dig a good chain-drag, the contrast of angelic basement cooer and ghostly doom-metal drifter never hurts. But its sustained snail-pace renders it sorta samey and so soporific -- however, grant it the space to suck you in and bring you down, and it may just succeed. 5.5/10
At the Drive-In - in•ter a•li•a
I swear, OG groupies had exceedingly high expectations or forget what made em such a force in the first place or their eagerness for non-nostalgic rackety emo just isn't there anymore. Preferring the old stuff and construing this reunion as contrived or superfluous in this case is certainly just, but not really rightful as a default assessment. Their vim ain't as spirited and they kinda rest on doze laurels but doze laurels are still complex and cutting and catchy and refreshingly riotous, vox are extra gaudy and intelligibly obscured but still chock full-a color and emotional cogency and steadfast spitting compelling ambiguities -- at the very least they don't overstay their welcome. Guillotine claps and bagged snakes for all. 7/10
Big Thief - Capacity
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
Wouldn't quite proclaim it as the masterpiece that Masterpiece wasn't, but superb leap in a year I can certainly vouch for. Some'll fret over the comparative deficiency of distortion or polish applied to a garage-y mien, but they are infinitely more invested here, and it shows: sturdier, darker, prettier, more intimate. Guitar howlin' is craftily reserved for speeding towards guardrails and hospitals, and the splendor of their strip-back sneaks up on you slowly; quietly sightly and sad and playful with no shortage of niceties or meaningful melodies. Devotees press that there's much to be had of Adrianne Lenker's lyrics, perhaps cuz they can get obscured in murmurations -- more often tho I'm taken by her inflections through-n-through. The entirety of "Mary" however highlights both. Other standout stuff: head thrusting against temple, blood, werewolves, sharks. 8/10
Brother Ali - All the Beauty in This Whole Life
Emcee Ali and interminable beat-man Ant are so longwindedly straight-laced but awfully hard to hate: the articulation, the emotional earnestness, the disquietude, the persevering positivity, the soulful and live-ish crispy clean production. Go ahead n try not be touched by an attempt at teaching his son that peeps will scorn him simply cuz of skin and how to proceed if the police come 'round; try not be taken aback with how collectedly and even comically he discloses details of the heavy repercussions from rapping in Iran/procuring a 4S at the airport. 6/10
Collin Strange - How I Creep
///BRAV-FUCKING-O\\\
How Collin creeps is very much the opposite of creeping: techno thumpin' is steadily mammoth, bulk of surroundings are scuzzed+fuzzed well into the red, bombards the brain with its persistence and heady walls of sound. It can hit you like a thousand bricks, make you start seeing things, simply enthuse via texture, even get you boogieing. First three 5-minute tracks just seem like some grimy fun-n-games when compared to the precisely 16-minute fourth/ender; more alive and coarse and a head-driller than you will ever be. 7/10
Expressway Yo-Yo Dieting - Undone Harmony Following
Chopped & screwed, I think they call it -- to further summarize, distant hip-hop that's scrambled, fried, melted down, sold for parts, slowed, stretched and smothered as it degrades into echoey static-slop mush. Not without its entrancing or texture-iffic factors, however. 5/10
Sophia Kennedy - Sophia Kennedy
SK can kinda come off as familiar female singer/songwriter full-a quirk. Wit in the midst of detachment, dips into absurdist wordplay, assortment of vocal flourishes/complete lack of vocal flourishes, anything-goes arrangements; e.g. tense violin jabbin' joined by the boingy-boings of a mouth harp. It can feel clunky and stiff at times, but most of the material here prevails -- the unpredictable mixes of organicity with keyboard mishmash and cheap drum machine are usually wrapped around quite a winsome pop tune. Highlights include killer sorta-centerpiece "Kimono Hill", somber spoken-worder for suffering specks (i.e. you) "A Bug on a Rug in a Building", and that one where she grasps that heartache and uniqueness can go hand in hand. Which is why I like when she finds her sugar bunny at the end; tho of course it's hard to tell if she really did or is just mocking those who have. 7/10
Angaleena Presley - Wrangled
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
She'll never be as darling as Kacey Musgraves or the perfumy-n-cosmetic gal Mama wanted -- her thankfully-thoughtful country has rock appeal first and pop appeal second albeit compels in both, rebel status patent but striving to be more reasonable. Not to say tude has therefore subsided. Opens with a pair of what could be grim Grease b-sides, then out roll those lingeringly clear-cut well-worded matters at hand: a preacher's perishment at the hands of his suspiciously wooed wife, a phony priss's blessing resulting in a nice hard smack, the blues via merch slingin' and tour travelin', the confinement+chagrin of domesticity on the particularly phenomenal title track, a vehement hootenanny called "Country" that all at once is parodic and rowdy and fit for sports arenas and has a Yelawolf rap that shouts out Sturgill Simpson. Closest you'll get to religion is being chock full-a bourbon-n-birr and opening that motel's bedside drawer. "Suck on that", indeed. 7.5/10
Ulver - The Assassination of Julius Caesar
Longtime shapeshifter black metal collective goes far enough down the experimental rabbit hole to arrive at the rather accessible antilogy of all-sang synth-pop; albeit retaining the dark+heavy tone-wise and thematically. No doubt these compositions are sturdy and sumptuous, symphonic flair throughout adds an air of grandeur. But really kinda hokey throughout, too. Personal prized moments are when songs venture into extended territory over historical tragedy -- i.e. the boisterous buildup of "Rolling Stone" and the smoky space-jazz of "Coming Home". Sections that are both basically vox-less, hmm. 6.5/10
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Octo Octa - Where Are We Going? 6/10
Overmono - Arla II [EP] 6.5/10
Oxbow - Thin Black Duke 6.5/10
