
Juliana Hatfield • Blood
Hatfield’s relentless output is given some inventive production, and I have to pause to carefully listen. There’s a lot to unpack, sonically and lyrically, and it refuses to fade into the background.
Hatfield’s relentless output is given some inventive production, and I have to pause to carefully listen. There’s a lot to unpack, sonically and lyrically, and it refuses to fade into the background.
Sweeney’s carefully considered guitar lines are entwined with Will Oldham’s intimate quaver and lyrical prowess, and it’s uncanny how this occasional intersection of two very prolific artists sounds like it’s decades into its trajectory.
If you are of a certain age and exposure to the MTV, you would think that people in Tijuana eat barbecued iguana, but that was just Stan Ridgway and Wall of Voodoo reaching for a cheap rhyme. Polvo takes the song's nervous energy and turns it up a few notches.
This is an ominous title for a posthumous release, but Allen’s stuttering drum work will no doubt stand the test of time, and this melding of his work with more modern non-Afrobeat collaborators is a glimpse of a fascinating future.
Lush synthetic bitscapes, layered with drones, sweeps, short loops, and the ecstasy of robots make for a propulsive immersion into a world of flow.
You will hear their thunderous approach before you see them, and you will be surprised, for despite their name and the glorious stadium-sized riffing, Naked Giants are the size of mere mortals and usually appear dressed in public.
This takes McCartney’s third “fine, I’ll do it all myself” effort and delivers it into some surprising and very capable hands, a diverse roster of artists who take these McCartney songs and fumble nary a one.
Rowdy and thunderous guitar rock is what’s on call for the months ahead, and it’s easy to fill that order with this set of ten fuzzy symphonies meticulously assembled for all your bombastic musical needs.
Bachelor are in no rush to get to the end of the song, which makes it the perfect soundtrack for getting things done around the house, or alternately sinking into a deep bliss of angel volces, tapped drums, and faraway guitar solos.
Sneer at the formula all you like, but putting a strong, dynamic female voice, one which ranges from a husky whisper to an anguished scream, in front of a well-produced guitar-centric combo can sometimes yield unexpectedly unique results.