Khruangbin • Mordechai
The Texas trio returns with their very specific blend of surf, psychedelia, and exotic spice, but this time around they’ve dropped the “instrumental” part by adding gloriously subdued vocalizations to some of the tracks.
The Texas trio returns with their very specific blend of surf, psychedelia, and exotic spice, but this time around they’ve dropped the “instrumental” part by adding gloriously subdued vocalizations to some of the tracks.
Go ahead and call your band Great Grandpa. You better have something pretty weird up your sleeve.
If a mermaid learned to play surf guitar, she could give Olivia Jean some exciting competition, at least for a little while.
Born Ruffians hail from the Great White North, and they have an innate ability to craft razor-sharp hooks out of the simplest of riffs.
The name should be enough to tune you in, but a more descriptive review would be to say this is deconstructed chiptune jungle dub, all your favorite riddims as DJ’d by the Mario Brothers.
They call it Hotlanta for a good reason, but I’m sure The Black Lips have enough bad attitude to have way more colorful names for their hometown.
They had been shot at. They had avoided countless booby traps. They had been served tiny delicate cups of the most aromatic and poisonous espresso. All of these events were framed as interrupted cribbage games. Maybe they played too much. The phlebotomist ruminated on this as they locked up their two-wheel drive all-terrain motorbikes across the street from Kirov Park. The Transnistrian passports had been excruciatingly expensive, but the ergonomist insisted it was justified, for complicated political reasons. The pieces rattled against the cribbage board and the very dangerous little notebook in the messenger bag as they strolled through the trail, looking for a man holding two empty water bottles.
M. Ward could get by on his smoky velvet voice alone, but he also happens to be a supreme connoisseur of what alert musicians call songcraft.
It’s edgy and manic and insistent, and it’ll surely drive your lunatic friends to ask you who is making that racket. Make sure you tell them Clifffs is spelled with three Fs.
Straight outta Staten Island, the Budos Band has enough energy to power a nuclear submarine for seven months, allowing it to circumnavigate the globe three and a half times.