Enjoy a small slice of tragic beauty in the form of Nell Smith, whose musical instincts reach well beyond her perpetually young voice. Tonight I had to park down the block, as The Sauce Boss was visiting the Radio Room all the way from my old Florida stomping grounds.
Tunde Adebimpe gets all three darts inside the bullseye.
Nothing like the feeling of having a new Broncho album to obsess over, I invite you to join me to, as they say in my native country, “sumérgete en cheddar.” Elsewhere tonight, panic at the discotheque — if you were listening, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
One final challenge awaits: swim through the Reservoir of Bliss, filled with honey, liquid moonlight, and endorphins, then dance in slow motion across the infra-disco, as BRONCHO's underwater guitar syrup and whispered falsetto choruses are playing.
Don't you be giving Vundabar the hairy eyeball, because they will mess you up.
The weather is rushing up on us, and this mercurial ambiance fits tonight’s opening cover from Yo La Tengo, as they take a blistering Ramones classic and turn it into a bit of beach blanket bingo. Respect was paid later in the show with the original “Rockaway Beach,” which sure sounds like a fun place.
Sure, bring your slick neon-tinged indie rock in here. I don't care that you sprinkled keyboards and saxophones all over in addition to the stabbing guitars, distressed vocals, and plucky bass. It just needs a beat we can dance to.
It’s been about six months since the previous compliation of music that was played on the 11pm-midnight section of the Mixtape — the late-night temporal space that receives music that is strange, harsh, and/or repetitive that is known as The Final Hour. This is the second anthology from this pool of music, presented through the entirety of tonight’s Mixtape to allow those whose schedule leans towards the earlier hours a chance to experience. Hark!
After a dormancy of a few years, The Dodos have re-emerged and proven to be anything but extinct. This duo makes a sound that is easy to recognize but hard to describe, a sort of acoustic progressive metal filled with droning rhythms and cascading guitars that you can clearly hear on the appropriately-titled “Unicorn”.
Bill Callahan has been wandering the halls of music for quite some time now, his deep voice and aimless arrangements a constant hypnotic presence.
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