Tag: The Dismemberment Plan

If you thought the days of the supergroup were over, Boygenius would like to have a word or three.

No pan flute, no washes of synthesizer textures, just Olivia Jean doing her best impression of a land-bound siren and kicking up the octane in the Enya original to unsafe levels. It’s a hot summer so far, with lots of great releases crowding the older stuff out of the playlist, and it shows no sign of letting up. There’s a new album from the Boo Radleys (it’s been a while!), and I am obsessing over motorik sounds from Orange Drink and Motor!k. It’s far more than will fit on a single cassette, unless you get one of those ultra-long ones that your car deck will eventually eat up.

Sure, they claim to be joking, but the chops you hear from Lizard Music are as serious as a car accident, their indie guitar pop leaving no hook unsharpened or ear unwormed.

The first time you hear Courtney Barnett taking on the Velvet Underground's "I'll Be Your Mirror," what you get is an electrifying shock of recognition: you know that distinctive voice, you know that timeless melody, but what you're hearing is completely new. I must add that there's a VU tribute album every few years, and even the worst of them can be decent, supported by the strength of the songs, but this one (also titled I'll Be Your Mirror) is exceptionally good.

Jade Hairpins don’t care about your repetitive song structures, man. That’s not how you cram five albums’ worth of material into less than forty minutes.

The pediatrician scrambled on hands and knees after the rubber ball. It deflected off the base of the Monument to Fuel Tanker, his imperturbable brass cheer completely unaffected by the collision. The interlocutor looked around surreptitiously. Their aim was to provide some normalcy to the fact that two people were hanging out near one of the lowest-ranked attractions in Grodno while the sophisticated electronics built into their footwear communicated with the satellite and sorted out the problem with the statue. But maybe this game of jacks had not been the best idea for cover.

Insistent angular weirdfunk, songs that sound like tape loops that have fallen out of order and yet maintain a diligent desire to be songs.

It was a cold night, but things were kept warm by a steady influx of Latin-tinged music and of course, Millie Small’s delightful warble.

In times fraught with misinformation, Ty Richards implores you to seek the truth.

Acoustic punk rock is always a dicey proposition, but The Future Kings of Nowhere and Shayne O’Neill rip through the genre like a blowtorch on toilet paper. Slick!