Monthly Mix: January
2/07/2016 11:45:00 AM
I discovered an obscene amount of really great music last month (yes, even in the midst of feverishly posting my top thirty; I truly have no life), so I decided to create a mix from the songs I just couldn't get enough of. I'm not sure if this will become a regular feature, since some months are more fruitful than others, but I think it's a useful format for when I just have too much new music to gush over for individual posts.
Each track is linked to Youtube for convenience's sake, but if you'd prefer to listen to the mix as a whole (since I did spend some time ensuring it had a decent flow), I've also created a Spotify playlist, which is embedded at the end of the post. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know which artists you'd like to see more on in the future!
Each track is linked to Youtube for convenience's sake, but if you'd prefer to listen to the mix as a whole (since I did spend some time ensuring it had a decent flow), I've also created a Spotify playlist, which is embedded at the end of the post. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know which artists you'd like to see more on in the future!
My interest in Ra Ra Riot's music significantly fell off when they traded in their expressive, theatrical chamber pop sound for a more generic foray into pleasant but lightweight electronic pop. However, they've won some of my favor back with "Water," the lead single from their upcoming fourth album, Need Your Light, and a collaboration with producer Rostam Batmanglij (formerly of Vampire Weekend). It's still heavily electronic, based on little more than a formula of repetitious build-up, but there's also something more substantial and meaty about it. The synths are richly-textured and cranked up to stadium-shaking levels, and singer Wes Miles' voice actually has some raw passion behind it again. I'm definitely curious to see what the rest of the album has to offer.
The first couple of tracks released in advance of Chairlift's third album, Moth, had me worried that it would be nothing but bland R&B-infused synthpop. The moment I heard "Crying in Public," though, I not only fell instantly in love but also did a complete 180 on my opinion of the songs preceding it. The song, along with the rest of the album, definitely draws heavily from Caroline Polachek's recent work with artists like Blood Orange and Beyoncé, but it relies just as much on the experimentation of Polachek's side project, Ramona Lisa, and the quirky catchiness of Chairlift's previous releases. Everything about it is just so... smooth. By the time the chorus hits, it becomes as transcendental as it is effortless, Polachek's thrillingly elastic vocals simply too enticing to resist.
I listened to Colleen Green's I Want to Grow Up once last year and found it unmemorable, but I think I might have to give it a second chance if this song is any indication. It was reintroduced to me via Spotify (I promise I'm not a Spotify shill; it's just one of my go-to platforms for discovering music these days), and it's been stuck in my head ever since. By all estimations, it's a song that shouldn't really work. I mean, no song based around cheap drum machine beats, Casio keyboard melodies, and questionable production values really needs to be six minutes long. But this one is, and it's oddly hypnotic and charming, never outwearing its welcome. Green's voice is thin but charismatic, making her lovesick questions ("Will I die before ever becoming a wife?") sound both earnest and sarcastic.
Not to Disappear became my first big contender of 2016 in less than two full listens, which surprised me because I can't recall much of anything about the times I've listened to Daughter before. But this album is quite varied and dynamic; at the same time, it retains an impressively consistent atmosphere: dark, brooding, and intense - just the way I like it. I could've picked literally any song from the album to gush about, but "No Care" sticks out as a blisteringly urgent rock song. Loose, scruffy guitar and relentless, rattling percussion back up Elena Tonra's desperate proclamations - "We fucked and I felt like a bad memory/Like my spine was a reminder of her/And you said that you felt sick" - and helplessly tumble with them toward complete breakdown.
The only thing I know about this guy is what I've skimmed on his Last.fm page, but this is a damn catchy song. It seems to borrow equally from '80s New Wave - the synths, obviously, and May's lazy, disaffected baritone - and '60s Brill Building pop - the brass flourishes, jaunty piano, and dreamy background "sha-la-las" - which are both influences that I can wholeheartedly get behind. Even the lyrics seem like a throwback of sorts in their focus on quaint suburban drama: "Eastover wives sneak out at night/Because they're lonely and they're beautiful." And that chorus is just insanely, ridiculously infectious. Honestly, it's just an incredibly well-structured, classic-sounding pop song that is impossible not to shimmy along to.
If not for the fact that I discovered The Pink Noise literally a day after I finalized my year-end list, it totally would have ranked in the upper half. Granted, I'd never even heard of Shunkan before then, so it's not like neglect was at fault, but it's still gutting to think about. Anyway, Shunkan is largely the brainchild of New-Zealander-by-way-of-Los-Angeles Marina Sakimoto, and The Pink Noise is a startlingly confident debut that crams mid-'90s alt-rock, post-punk, and shoegaze into one undeniable package. It's all good, but "Anything but Love" is an immediate standout, juxtaposing soft, reflective verses against an aggressive and raw chorus. Weirdly, it and much of the rest of the album gives me similar vibes to Execution-era Rilo Kiley, even though they don't actually sound much alike.
Oh, man, I think the first time I listened to Makthaverskan was also the day I discovered Shunkan, which made it pretty spectacular all-around. I've been into a fair amount of post-punk lately, and Sweden's Makthaverskan fit nicely into that niche while also bringing elements of jangle pop and garage rock into the mix. "No Mercy" is a bottomless pit of grungy guitars and swirly synths that immediately pulls you into its orbit. The main draw, though, is Maja Milner's voice, which is inhumanly powerful but, at the same time, weirdly delicate. Her simultaneously sweet and scathing approach works especially well here, allowing her to deliver lines like "Fuck you for fucking me when I was seventeen" with wounded defiance.
Miya Folick appears to be a relative newcomer, with only one EP to her name so far, but her music already has remarkable maturity and depth. This song is utterly captivating in its simplicity. For the first couple minutes, Folick's warm, resonant voice is accompanied by only mournful electric guitar. "You think that I was born to be/A tender rose beneath an oak tree/But I never loved roses," she sings in a lilting soprano with just enough rasp to hint at a darkness brewing beneath. This premonition comes true in the song's second half, where it explodes in a burst of heavy percussion and quavering, gritty vocals. Fans of Angel Olsen especially should take an instant liking to Folick's nakedly confessional style.
Listen, I have a tendency to quickly dismiss albums that don't capture my attention within the first few tracks, which leads to a lot of more subtle music slipping through the cracks. I suppose this is an unavoidable side effect of devouring new music at the rate I do. For this reason, I've probably never given Panda Bear the attention he truly deserves. His music still hasn't totally clicked for me, but this song is just gorgeous and also very relaxing. It's as easy to zone out to as it is to listen intently for all of its little musical nuances. The mesmerizing swirl of ethereal harp and Noah Lennox's angelic voice is undeniable, especially near the end when the melodies are jumbled up and pieced together again like some psychedelic alternate universe version of the Beach Boys.
After loving Abyss, I've been returning to some of Chelsea Wolfe's earlier work, and Apokalypsis is speaking to me like never before. The vocal mix is much blurrier and muddier and often overpowered by the industrial instrumentation, which makes discernable melodies difficult to pick out. However, they're definitely present, even if it takes patience to uncover them. "Demons" is one of the most immediate tracks, driven by reverb-swathed guitars and thickly-distorted vocals that build into a muscular instrumental breakdown overlaid with animalistic howls. Underneath the layers of grime and noise, though, is a rollicking, bluesy rock song that'll never leave your head once it's settled comfortably in.
This is, like, Nico by way of Vashti Bunyan and Joni Mitchell. There's something very soothing and comforting about it, with its warm acoustic guitar and organ base, but it's also rather bewitching and enigmatic thanks to Natalie Mering's rich, deep vocals and the layers of haunting background harmonies. It's a song that very patiently and organically unfolds, which gives it a timeless feel, as nostalgically familiar on the first listen as something you've heard a hundred times before. I've seen the name Weyes Blood around but never listened to the music before now, so this was a pleasant surprise, and I'll definitely be checking out more of Mering's work in the future.
12. The Weather Station - Everything I Saw
What a delightful little song. Like many of the tracks here, it came to me by way of Spotify's Discover Weekly. The Weather Station is the solo project of Canadian singer-songwriter Tamara Lindeman, who has been releasing music for several years to seemingly minimal fanfare. I'd certainly never heard of her before coming across this track, which is a shame because she has a lot of rustic charm as a performer and impressive chops as a folk/country songwriter. "Everything I Saw" comes from her 2011 album, All of It Is Mine, and it's a gently rowdy, bluegrass-inspired gem with a killer chorus and personality in spades. It doesn't necessarily reinvent the wheel, but, then again, it doesn't really need to.
What a delightful little song. Like many of the tracks here, it came to me by way of Spotify's Discover Weekly. The Weather Station is the solo project of Canadian singer-songwriter Tamara Lindeman, who has been releasing music for several years to seemingly minimal fanfare. I'd certainly never heard of her before coming across this track, which is a shame because she has a lot of rustic charm as a performer and impressive chops as a folk/country songwriter. "Everything I Saw" comes from her 2011 album, All of It Is Mine, and it's a gently rowdy, bluegrass-inspired gem with a killer chorus and personality in spades. It doesn't necessarily reinvent the wheel, but, then again, it doesn't really need to.
13. Diane Cluck - Easy to Be Around
Diane Cluck is someone I've been meaning to listen to properly for ages, and I finally took the dive into a full album a couple weeks ago, settling on her 2003 release, Oh Vanille/Ova Nil. Almost instantly, I was struck by how much her voice and song structures reminded me of one of my favorite albums of 2015, Johanna Warren's Nūmūn, which leads me to believe that she must have been one of Warren's influences, at least indirectly. I was tempted to choose one of the more sparse and heart-wrenching songs from the album ("Bones and Born Again" is particularly stirring), but the breezy charm of "Easy to Be Around" is just so undeniable with its rootsy, multi-layered harmonies. Cluck's vocals and lyrics are so relatable, and I definitely recommend giving the entire album a listen.
Diane Cluck is someone I've been meaning to listen to properly for ages, and I finally took the dive into a full album a couple weeks ago, settling on her 2003 release, Oh Vanille/Ova Nil. Almost instantly, I was struck by how much her voice and song structures reminded me of one of my favorite albums of 2015, Johanna Warren's Nūmūn, which leads me to believe that she must have been one of Warren's influences, at least indirectly. I was tempted to choose one of the more sparse and heart-wrenching songs from the album ("Bones and Born Again" is particularly stirring), but the breezy charm of "Easy to Be Around" is just so undeniable with its rootsy, multi-layered harmonies. Cluck's vocals and lyrics are so relatable, and I definitely recommend giving the entire album a listen.
14. The Narrative - Moving Out
Four or five years ago, I probably would have called The Narrative one of my favorite bands. They had just released their debut album, full of infectious hooks and lovable boy/girl harmonies, and seemed on the verge of making a name for themselves. Then they dropped off the face of the planet. Okay, not really. Jesse Gabriel released a solo album, and Suzie Zeldin joined Chris Carrabba's band Twin Forks, but the chances of their musical reunion were growing increasingly slim. 2016, though, seems to finally be the time, as they've already released two singles. "Moving Out" is the superior one, marrying their patented folk-pop sound to a slightly twangy edge (perhaps due to the band's relocation from NYC to Memphis). The melodies are solid, and Gabriel and Zeldin's voices have never meshed better, so let's all cross our fingers that there's more to come - and soon.
Four or five years ago, I probably would have called The Narrative one of my favorite bands. They had just released their debut album, full of infectious hooks and lovable boy/girl harmonies, and seemed on the verge of making a name for themselves. Then they dropped off the face of the planet. Okay, not really. Jesse Gabriel released a solo album, and Suzie Zeldin joined Chris Carrabba's band Twin Forks, but the chances of their musical reunion were growing increasingly slim. 2016, though, seems to finally be the time, as they've already released two singles. "Moving Out" is the superior one, marrying their patented folk-pop sound to a slightly twangy edge (perhaps due to the band's relocation from NYC to Memphis). The melodies are solid, and Gabriel and Zeldin's voices have never meshed better, so let's all cross our fingers that there's more to come - and soon.
15. Dark Dark Dark - Say the Word
I've been getting into this band since late last year. They make gorgeous and rich folk songs that incorporate elements of baroque and world music, and, to my ears, sit somewhere on the spectrum between Beirut and Bowerbirds. A big difference between Dark Dark Dark and those bands is that their primary vocalist is a woman. Nona Marie Invie has one of the most engaging voices I've ever heard; although clear and full of vitality, it also provokes a sense of immense world-weariness. "Say the Word" is one of their more upbeat songs, playful and jaunty thanks to the flirtatious interplay of violin, accordion, and piano, which complement rather than overpower Invie's soulful vocal turn.
I've been getting into this band since late last year. They make gorgeous and rich folk songs that incorporate elements of baroque and world music, and, to my ears, sit somewhere on the spectrum between Beirut and Bowerbirds. A big difference between Dark Dark Dark and those bands is that their primary vocalist is a woman. Nona Marie Invie has one of the most engaging voices I've ever heard; although clear and full of vitality, it also provokes a sense of immense world-weariness. "Say the Word" is one of their more upbeat songs, playful and jaunty thanks to the flirtatious interplay of violin, accordion, and piano, which complement rather than overpower Invie's soulful vocal turn.
16. Ramona Falls - Going Once, Going Twice
Several months ago, I heard Ramona Falls' "Melectric" and fell instantly in love with its catchy melodies, driving emotionalism, and Brent Knopf's earnest vocals. He doesn't have the best or most versatile voice in the world, but there's something about its tender wavering that's immediately captivating. So far, I haven't found any other songs of his to be as lovable from the first listen, but several have been gradually growing on me. "Going Once, Going Twice" chooses to create a consistent atmosphere rather than surprise its listener, repeating the same brief lines with increasing urgency over a slowly evolving musical backdrop. It pays off in a cathartic yet peaceful release at the song's end: "On the way to heaven/My forwarding address."
Several months ago, I heard Ramona Falls' "Melectric" and fell instantly in love with its catchy melodies, driving emotionalism, and Brent Knopf's earnest vocals. He doesn't have the best or most versatile voice in the world, but there's something about its tender wavering that's immediately captivating. So far, I haven't found any other songs of his to be as lovable from the first listen, but several have been gradually growing on me. "Going Once, Going Twice" chooses to create a consistent atmosphere rather than surprise its listener, repeating the same brief lines with increasing urgency over a slowly evolving musical backdrop. It pays off in a cathartic yet peaceful release at the song's end: "On the way to heaven/My forwarding address."
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