A series of alien transmissions, ready for your fascinated decoding. A layering of sounds that are salty, sweet, savory. An incomprehensible message competing with a carnival across town and your roommate blasting Led Zeppelin through muffling walls.
A strange confluence of influences, with a lot of dynamic arrangements and plenty of weird hooks that shouldn’t work but are lethally effective.
Francophonic guitar attaque, brimming with chiming arpeggios, complicated stringular interplay, and words beyond comprehension but not understanding.
Sweetness and sunshine without overstepping into cloying and saccharine, with chiming guitars and subtle keyboard hooks providing a bed for clear female croonings.
This is salty, and tangy, and spicy, and sweet, like the musical equivalent of a Mexican tamarind candy. It sounds so Sixties and Seventies that it must be from Today.
This is heavy pounding music that is pounding and heavy, also distorted, and pounding and heavy. Somewhat repetitive, but some of us like it like that, and pounding, and heavy.
It’s catchy pop punk, and it’s clearly female-powered, but there’s more here than rainbow stickers, glorious hooks and riffs, and big puffy girl handwriting.
Old fashioned haunted country music… Orville Peck howls, croons, and yodels in a way that is extremely dramatic, yet never quite goes over the top.
The Neanderthals of the Seattle “grunge” sound remain in top form with eleven angry, buzzing indictments of modern living.
This is the old Low turned up to 15. All hail the new Low! Note: This is very noisy and distorted. The machinery is not acting up.
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