Mixtape 174 • You and Me
When you are bored with every sound you hear, the Universe will send you an entire collection of songs to make you break out in an involuntary smile, like Goodbye Honolulu's latest.
When you are bored with every sound you hear, the Universe will send you an entire collection of songs to make you break out in an involuntary smile, like Goodbye Honolulu's latest.
If the name didn't give it away, there is a very distinct beach slash surf feeling to San Diego's Wavves and their sun-glittered sounds.
Uwe Schmidt has had an extensive career, recording under many names as electronic musicians do, but it's his work as Señor Coconut (and now as Atom™), where he deconstructs familiar songs into something Kraftwerk would play if hired to play a quinceañera, that brings me this very particular weird glee.
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.
A bit of a throwback to the sound of late ‘80s Manchester and subsequent British psychedelic pop, presented with a pulsating dance beat and dreamy multilayered vocals.
The first mate adjusted the sails, letting out some wind to keep both skids on the sand. The sun shone down like a hole punched in a blast furnace someone painted blue, the radio broadcasting its gypsy salsa above the hiss of the sandmaran's travel. Leaning on the tiller, the captain let out a yell of warning as they crested a dune, gaining air for a brief moment. They still didn’t have a plan for replacing the statue, but they had a thousand miles of desert to work something out.
Australia’s Dappled Cities straddles the line between new wave and indie, with solid hooks and crystal-clear pop production.