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Kurt Vile’s surgical lyrics and out-there guitar playing overshadow the fact that he is a bona-fide troubadour, a distinctive voice and presence that hangs out in your head and strums out their weird tunes from an armchair in the corner.
Posthumous releases are always a tricky proposition, but Sharon Jones was a talent literally larger than life, and the combination of her of deep rich voice slathered over the funky Dap Kings has yet to fail.
With its Byrds-inpired jangle, harmonized “whoah-oh”s, and overflowing nervous energy, this could very well be an unearthed recording from the liminal era between “new wave” and “alternative”.
It’s been a while, but Elvis Perkins’ songwriting chops remain as lush as ever, an unexpected oasis of skewed harmonies and surprising arrangements in a dry sandy desert of plinky singer-songwriters.
Weird manic indie funk-verging-on-pop with a weird manic sense of humor and they’re not afraid to throw in a horn section here and there to bolster their hooks and riffs.
Yes, it’s the Drive-By Truckers, and they remain consistent to their deep Southern roots, but I had to keep checking the player to see who was sounding exactly like Dinosaur Jr. or riffing off Hall and Oates.
The Weatherman returns and takes prominence on this latest sound art foray, taking on the intersection of the surveillance apparatus and our insatiable need to have machines listening for our latest whim.
The Budos Band have a distinctive sound that blends afrobeat, funk, and a herd of thundering elephants that could also be one of the most aggressive brass sections around.