If you’ve ever been to Montreal, you might remember the water. To fly over the city is to look at a maze of tiny tributaries and substantial streams – the water sleepwalking beside bustling streets to St. Lawrence river. Montrealer Matthew Azrieli captures this movement in his new song “I Thought I Saw You the Other Day.”
With a voice like a country road, Azrieli sings of a broken bond with an old friend or lover. The track runs for just over a minute and thirty seconds, but feels longer. In the brief time he has you, Azrieli wraps you in warm guitar and thoughtful lyrics, gently leading you along each turn of phrase. It’s a simple tune, but “I Thought I Saw You the Other Day” is the kind of song that leaves its door open for revisiting again and again. It wants you to sit with it and it wants to stay with you.
“I Thought I Saw You the Other Day” holds itself with certainty – capturing its sentiment with confidence. The memories revisited in it are reminiscent of the water, steady as it drifts away. Azrieli doesn’t mourn this, but rather accepts it. “I’m not quite sure if it was you, but even if it were there’s not a lot I would say,” he admits. The track is one of bereavement without grief.
The instrumental of the tune dances easily with the lyrics. Nothing but a guitar weaves around the words. This simplicity gives the track its charm. It also creates a stronger sense of intimacy with the listener. At times, you have the sense Azrieli is talking to himself. Others, it seems he’s reaching to hold your hand.
On both this record and his others, Azrieli feels like an old friend. The wit and vulnerability of his lyrics resemble that of Bob Dylan or Nick Drake. Perhaps this parallel to the cherished folk tunes of the ‘70s is what makes Azrieli appear so familiar. Listening to him croon through his buried thoughts makes being alone your own thoughts more bearable. Clearly, his songs are best suited for long drives and longer nights.
As you listen to “I Thought I Saw You the Other Day,” think of the waters of Montreal, the same waters Azrieli grew up singing to. There, you can see the memories drifting away, without resentment or pain, but simply with the inevitable passing of time. There, you, too, may see someone you used to know.
Lowertown, the duo comprised of Olivia Osby and Avsha Weinberg, are excited to release their new single “Seaface”. This is the first song from their upcoming EP The Gaping Mouth. Osby and Weinberg spent time in London recording the EP “that they call their most honest, interesting, and mature work to date”. “Seaface” is a tune that combines dreamy lyrics with music that builds from a single guitar to a full mix.
Pick what you want to be, It can be anything. If you close your eyes, It’s fun to imagine Another body, another life.
Despite the constraints of the pandemic, 2020 proved to be a productive time for the pair of 19-year-olds – they graduated high school (where they met in math class), signed to label Dirty Hit and released their EP Honeycomb, Bedbug. 2021 looks like it could be as big a year for Lowertown.
While we wait with bated breath for Jessica Luise’s debut EP, Going in Blind, to release on July 9th, the stunning songstress has given us some ear candy to play with until then. A light, 90’s rock-inspired track, “a.m.” begins at the same clip that will carry it through the entirety of its 3 minutes and 28 seconds of existence.
While reverb plays along through the chorus, you find yourself daydreaming about your next road trip or adventure into the unknown. Her mellifluous vocals pay homage to flings, bringing in a bittersweet string of lyrics to consume from the inside out. A welcome treat for our ears, this track makes it more enticing than ever to venture out into the world (for the first time in what feels like forever).
Says Jessica of the upcoming EP:
To think that I would be the proud creator of a piece of work like this after being in this industry for such a short time baffles me. ‘Going In Blind’ comes from how I was blind to the red flags in relationships I’ve encountered over the years, and a bit of a comment on how when I first started in music I knew nothing. I am still learning, but maybe I’m not as much of a newborn in this industry as I was a year ago.
Norwegian indie folk duo Tuvaband – comprised of Simon Would and Tuva Hellum – have been crazy busy prepping to release their debut EP, which is set to drop in November. The pair – who are incredibly socially conscious and tend to lend that activism to their art – recently released their single “Trees” to critical acclaim. The song, which touches on the importance of our natural habitat, is an ethereal taste of what’s to come.
With that in mind, we were ecstatic to catch a few moments with the band leading up to their big show at Mirrors Festival. Here is what they had to say.
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What is the first song or album you ever remember hearing, and who introduced it to you?
I can’t remember. I do remember that Aretha Franklin was one of my first favourite artists and that I had a lot of her albums. I wanted to become the new Aretha Franklin. A mix between Aretha Franklin and Gwen Stefani (when she was in No Doubt).
The first album Simon heard was Radiohead – Amnesiac. His uncle had bought it and they were listening to it in the car in Ireland. It’s still one of his favorite albums.
What is the origin story of Tuvaband? Was it impossibly amazing?
I was studying child welfare, and the girls I was living with was tired of hearing me make annoying sounds and doing my man-vocals out loud in our apartment. They told a guy in our class, to bring me to his studio to make me try to sing normal. I did, and it was the most fun I’ve had. I started singing with this guy and another musician. I thought we were a band and told my family and friends. Turned out we were just jamming. I went to my room and started making my own songs, and called myself Tuvaband as a joke. I would never sing in front of people, but gave my parents a Tuvaband CD for Christmas.
Back in Oslo after my studies, I met Simon and his friend in a bar, which were looking for a girl to sing a duet with. After three hours at an afterparty, when people had started falling asleep, I finally sang with Simon and his friend. Many months later I asked if Simon could play guitar in Tuvaband. We found out we would rather be a duo than a band and therefore could keep that name.
“Trees” is incredibly beautiful. We know production happened in two separate apartments, but what was the process like for this one? Lyrics first, melody first? Concept vs. words? Paint us a picture!
Thank you so much!
I’de written the lyrics earlier, but the melody we were just jamming, it’s the first song we had which started from a random jam. We had to structure the song together later to make it sound more like a song. There was a lot of rounds trying to record it and make it sound good. I think it took us almost a year to make it right.
What do you hope people glean from this track, specifically?
It would be nice if some people like the song so much that they will listen to the lyrics. First about the rainforest, then about our self-destructing behaviour, and then maybe produce even more thoughts about what we could do differently when it comes to the environment.
Your new EP is due in November. Can we expect other equally as socially conscious tracks on it? Is there an overarching message in its tranquility?
A lot of the songs I write has a similar message to the one in ‘Trees’, but the EP has a lot of different themes. It’s constructed in a way as a story, which evolves as the EP progresses. It goes from being about dealing with a trauma, then the aftermath of a trauma. And then when you are done dealing with this, it shifts towards the world around you, which is where ‘Trees’ and two other songs come in.
What are you most excited about with the upcoming EP release?
It’s nice to finally get something out that we’ve been working on for a long time, and to show people that we have more songs. We are close to finishing yet another EP, so it is about time to release the debut EP.
I have to say that we are both really excited about releasing a really nice music video, made by Marius Mathisrud and Oscar Juul Sørensen, for one of the tracks on the EP too!
Alright. The tough one. Cats or dogs?
It’s definitely cats for me. I’m the cat lady, but with no cats. When I’m 65, I will probably have 14 cats. If I ever start a side project as a musician, my name would be ‘The Mother of Cats’. Simon is a dog person and had a dog growing up. That says a lot about how different we are from each other.
Anything else you’d like us to know?
We are playing at Mirrors (festival) in Hackney, London, 28th of October. We hope to see you there!
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Catch up with Tuvaband during a Rough Trade In-Store gig on October 27th, and at Mirrors on the 28th. Keep up with Tuvaband here.
Nashville-based artist Sam Varga released his new single “Minute Man” on July 4th. Varga is an rock/alt-country artist and has one full-length album he released in 2024 titled Shadow Work. His music is a unique combination of the distinct sound of country with some clear alternative and emo influences. Some of his songs lean more acoustic and it’s just his voice and the guitar, and others have that more alt-pop sound.
“Minute Man” has a modern country sound, and is a relatively simple production. There are a few minutes where it’s just the guitar playing, which switches up the main beat of the song. But Varga’s style makes this song different from any other country song, as the alternative elements are just as present here. Sam Varga’s vocals feel much more in line with an alternative style than the traditional country singer. The vocals don’t have the high pitch that is often present in emo music, but the tone is much brighter than country usually is. The drums are also more reminiscent of the alternative genre, which manages to give this song a complex sound with the simple production.
The single is also political in a way that’s fitting for our current world, a distinction from Varga’s other work. Different cultural references are sprinkled throughout the song, which catches the listener’s attention. It’s less of a specific political message than it is an observation of just how broken our world and society is right now. The song also mostly references different ways that the world is ending or “broken,” like the threat of nuclear war and the polar ice caps melting.
But the main “story” of the song is about falling in love with this apocalyptic background. It’s an interesting contrast between this love and the very current threat of the world ending. The lyrics “two kids kissing under bleachers in the fallout” are immediately followed by “heard you say we’re gonna die young anyway.” It’s dark, but the takeaway isn’t totally depressing. The title comes into play here, as the lyrics “I just need a minute, man” end off the chorus. “Minute Man” is interested in how screwed up our current political world is, but it isn’t a totally nihilistic song.
Amy Jay‘s latest single, “Can’t Go Back” is a indie pop track that delves into displacement, detachment and loneliness in a place that you think of as your home. Amy Jay is a self described “alt folk indie singer songwriter” who is currently based in New York City. “Can’t Go Back” is the first single off of Jay’s upcoming album, Mnemonics, out November 7th.
“Can’t Go Back” is the perfect song for soul searchers, introspectives, and who has ever felt out of place or invisible. Amy Jay’s inspiration—feeling lost in New York City—is a universal concept even if you don’t have millions of people on your doorstep. Community is a hard thing to find, and Jay delves into that struggle deeply on “Can’t Go Back.”
The track begins with immersive bass beats with deeply personal direct lyrics targeted to a former friend/lover. She reminsces on what once was, and their final dinner, mentioning the isolation that followed. Her soft vocals are intimate and reflective of the songs sensitive nature.
The tracks shining star is it’s lyrics. When Amy Jay writes, “I can’t tell if it’s New York, or if I’ve grown up, or if I’ve grown up in New York”, she speaks to the dismantling of identity and placement, and the way we become misaligned with our home and self.
As she writes that the city is “shaping her”, she is discussing all the change you go through during youth and how malleable your identity becomes. It’s so easy to lose yourself in new environments and experiences, and forget where you even began, which is exactly what Jay seeks to discover. Describes Jay of the inspiration here, “Remember that change is inevitable and sometimes permanent.” She goes on to explain:
Although I wrote this song before COVID, it’s eerily pertinent to how the pandemic drastically impacted our lives. Despite living in the same city long enough to call it home, I question if my sense of displacement comes from New York’s inherent transience or the broader challenges of adulthood. Even before COVID but especially since, many loved ones moved away and my community is constantly shifting, so it often feels impossible to establish lasting roots in such an ever-changing environment. Like experiencing a death, the only way to move forward is to grieve the change and accept the new reality.
The lyrics are enrobed in Jay’s echoey vocals, and the nostalgic reverb that makes the song feel simultaneously distant and extremely close to home, which is exactly the contrast that exists within the narrative of displacement and discovery.
The steady and relatively chill beat and instrumentals are at odds with the anxiety and mourning of loss time and identity within the song, and the tension works amazingly. Jay is up to quietly mourn who we once were alongside her, as the song allows the listener to reflect on their own irreversible moments and lost memories/experiences.
The repetition of the lyrics “We can’t go back” is both disarming and comforting, as it reflects both the uneasiness towards the passage of time, as well as the acceptance of it. “Can’t Go Back” is the soundtrack for travelers, hermits, college students, and pretty much anyone that has felt instability or loss of identity, and Amy Jay packages it skillfully and wonderfully through her velvety vocals and confessional lyrics. If you don’t already relate, unfortunately, someday you will!
Follow Amy Jay on tour here. Pre-save the single here.
I lay comforted by the sounds of a meandering country ditty, imbibing the questions being posed lyrically. How did you become the stranger you sought to escape? How will you escape the ghosts coming for you? The upbeat twang of Will Rainier’s guitar contrasts his dark lyrics which resemble a poem by Poe, in new single “Dance With the Dead”.
Expands Rainier: “I like the sadness in country music—it’s just raw emotional music to me—but I don’t want to recreate anything to the letter. I want the music to be my style, and I like unexpected instruments, like the trumpet, and I like blending styles. I don’t think about any of this when I write—I just let the music come out.”
While the video is, admittedly, reminiscent of a middle school iMovie project, it would be the best one in the class. Filmed across beautiful landscapes in Olympia, Bow, and Lopez Island, Washington, and Bend, Oregon by Jen Garrett, Will Rainier, and Chad Yenney, the video itself was created by Will. The beauty chosen and recorded by Rainier ropes you in to an almost fantastical existence. You can sense the intended darkness behind the song without acquiring it, a true feat.
“Dance with the Dead” is a mixed bag, and Will Rainier is extremely talented. On his new album Smoke ‘em If You Got ‘em, which is available in full soon, he plays most of the instruments, creating his own band from raw talent. He will undoubtedly fuel you with more of his funky bar goer stories and genre breaking combinations.
Susannah Joffe’s newest EP, Cult Leader, is full of Americana inspired pop ballads and represents the lengths that love and heartbreak brings us to. Susannah Joffe is a singer-songwriter originally from Austin, Texas. She has had recent success on social media, particularly with the song, “Die Your Daughter”, which was on her last EP, Your Mother’s Name. But, Joffe has taken a new look on life on Cult Leader, and it’s full of spite, lovelust, heartbreak, and reflection.
The EP’s title track, “Cult Leader”, sets up the theme as Joffe plays spacey pop with a dark country twang. Joffe’s airy vocals sing about americana ideals and tropes while she professes her love-hatred for an ex-lover and his new flame.
As she sings about her confidence in her superiority, a deep jealousy underlies within her words and sets up a complex narrative of love and the inability to move on. Joffe’s vocals are the shining star of this track as her voice ebbs and flows throughout the verses and chorus (reminiscent of Lana Del Rey), and the instrumentals take the backseat to fully allow Joffe to have her moment.
“Antler Queen” keeps up the spaciness that is a mainstay throughout the EP, moving further away from country influence. It’s a bittersweet romance ballad that explores unrequited love and yet again the struggle to move on. The chorus is infectious with a driving drum beat and Joffe’s love proclamations such as, “I’ll shoot you up, Get high on reluctant love.”
The instrumentals on “Antler Queen” are extremely chill with sweet guitars and a stable percussion section to pick up the chorus. As she concludes the song, she reinforces her love’s bittersweetness as she says, “I pledge my heart to you my antler queen.”
“You’d Kill Me If You Could” is a stripped back ballad that sonically serves as a break in the EP’s sound and leans into a 90’s sound. Joffe has given up the loud emotions present in the previous two tracks, and has become sorrowful and reflective. The heartbreaking lyrics portray a harmful relationship and her dealing with the emotional aftermath.
The echoey vocals, acoustic guitars and stripped back percussion, make the song feel like it could’ve been written 30 years ago. Bright synths work with Joffe in the bridge, as she repeats, “Like mother, like daughter.” The phrase is almost a mantra, increasing in intensity the more Joffe says it, and deepens the song’s meaning when you consider the cycle of abuse and what people pass down with them.
“Shit Out Of Luck” is a hazy heartbroken ballad that speaks to unfulfillment and unresolved promises. It is threatening, vengeful and passionate, as she sings, “I’ve got passion and I’ve got a gun.” Electric guitars squeal in the background and Joffe employs a strong percussion section yet again. Joffe’s vocals are the shining star on this track as she uses layered harmonizations to sing words of spite and biblical musings.
“Sofia Coppola” went mildly viral on social media and is a bright lesbian pop power ballad. The song is flirty and full of lust and unabashed attraction. The prechorus is infectious and feels almost like a nursery rhyme, which leads into the double infectious chorus in which she professes, “Idolize you, My Sofia Coppola.”
The bridge is wonderfully layered and Joffe’s vocal capability is put right on display in this track. “Sofia Coppola” is a gorgeous listening experience and uses a blend of strings, synths and percussion, which culminates into a twinkly and magical song about bright eyed love and attraction.
Joffe leans into another consistent trope present on the EP as she writes about a love-hate relationship in “Call Me Pretty.” It’s a complicated dynamic of wanting to both be devalued but cherished as she sings, “I’m your dog and nothing more.” It’s a casual relationship gone wrong, as she invests more than her lover. Her breathy vocals in contrast to the heavy electric guitars build power and tension in the song. The guitars aid Joffe in relaying the final rendition of the chorus and concludes the heartbreakingly honest and self deprecating track.
The EP finishes off strong with the final two tracks, “Stillborns and Six Lane Highways” and “Horses Can’t Outrun Me.” “Stillborns” discusses biblical conflict and terror, as she speaks directly to the people that peddle hate singing, “Heaven hates you” repeatedly. The melodic guitars backing instrumentals are stunning as the beat uplifts the depressive nature of the song. Her echoey and hazy vocals blend amazingly and the rich instrumentals coupled with the lyrics behind create a complex and enjoyable listening experience.
“Horses Can’t Outrun Me” is an excellent end to the EP and is a highlight of the tracklist. Joffe’s bright vocals begin the song as she sings the chorus. A deep electronic bass beat is introduced as she sings of feeling freed of a suffocating relationship and environment. She strips it down and speaks in the pre chorus and then dives into her airy vocals once again.
There is a deep, radical sense of freedom as the lightness of her vocals and the bright guitars, keys and drum beats feed into the energy of the song. As Joffe sings, “Heaven’s where you can’t reach” she ties all of the themes on the EP into one reflecting upon freedom, religious ideation, relationship issues, love, and heartbreak. We are allowed the opportunity to watch Joffe grieve, grow, and change, as we watch her learn and reflect upon her experiences and heartbreak.
It’s an exciting high to leave off on and leaves us wondering what will Joffe take on next in her musical journey? Cult Leader asks a lot and leaves behind very little, as Joffe proves her vocal and musical capabilities and has created a piece of work that is sonically and narratively consistent and clean.
Buick Audra, Nashville singer/songwriter and guitarist, released her fourth album Adult Child on June 13th. She writes for both herself and other artists, and is half of the musical duo Friendship Commanders with Jerry Roe. Her music has a unique style that emphasizes her written lyrics in a way that is reminiscent of something like spoken word poetry. For example, her third album Conversations with My Other Voice was released with a matching memoir of essays. But the production doesn’t suffer for this, instead changing intensity and even genre to match each song.
Adult Child continues this style, never staying in one place for too long. The album mostly fits into the indie rock genre, but songs such as “It All Belonged to Me” are more folk-inspired. Songs like “Birthdays & Bullshit” are full of rage and dominated by drums, but there are several moments on the album where it’s just Audra and her vocals.
At its core, Adult Child is about family and relationships, and the patterns and cycles that we repeat in our lives from our family. But the takeaway from the album is that our origins don’t define us, and we can choose to form an identity all our own. Buick Audra touches on her own estranged relationship with her family, and the album’s title Adult Child reflects the expectations and responsibilities that were placed on her as a child.
“The Worst People Win” is the first track on Adult Child and “Questions for the Gods of Human Behavior” is the lead single off of the album. They serve as the intro into this album for us listeners, and these two songs are instantly relatable to almost anyone. “The Worst People Win”, like it sounds, is about the “fact of life” that the worst people in life are often the most successful. That is insanely relatable to myself, and I’m sure that almost everyone has had a moment in their life where this “fact” comes up. “Questions for the Gods of Human Behavior” looks more inward, questioning why we as humans repeat behaviors that hurt us–also probably a relatable idea for many. These songs also provide an introduction to the indie rock production of the album, which is mostly drums and guitar. Both songs utilize these instruments to provide tension to match the themes of the songs.
“Yellow” takes a turn away from the first two songs to look at Audra herself, and about how she’s internalized what other people have said about her. Again, the production echoes this shift, as the focus is more on Audra’s vocals, and the end totally strips the production down to just a percussion beat and Audra’s vocals. The lyrics repeat three times, with each repetition increasing the layers of her vocals.
“One-Step Close-Up” goes in a different direction again, being a more upbeat song off the album. It uses photography imagery to convey the theme of Audra prioritizing herself rather than others. The fifth song “Birthdays & Bullshit” is the epitome of female rage. The drums are loud, louder than the rest of the album. The song is about the responsibilities that women are expected to have, like being in charge of birthdays. Like the rest of the album, these two songs reflect on Audra’s experience as an adult child and the difficulty that comes with breaking those expectations and relationships.
For me, “It All Belonged to Me” is one of the most devastating songs on this album. The beginning is almost ethereal, all plucky strings and humming, but it isn’t light at all. In this song, Audra writes about where she grew up, and about how she doesn’t go home anymore. “Losing My Courage” is also an emotional song and contains only Audra’s vocals. This song is about just wanting to be listened to–and by design, you as the listener will listen to Audra. It’s truly a beautiful and powerful effect.
As the only acoustic song on the album, “Firstborn” starts to close out the album on a more hopeful note. Like earlier songs, “Firstborn” touches on Audra building a life of her own separate from her past and her family. And like a mantra, the phrase “I got here on my own” is repeated several times. It’s a nice statement for the last “real” song of the album.
“A List” is not a song. Instead, we just hear Audra speaking. This track was recorded on a tape recorder, which does add another layer to her voice here. “A List” is directly about the two pieces that make up this album: Audra’s past and her future. The end also fades into “The Worst People Win,” a nice touch to wrap up this album.
This album serves as a reflection into what being an adult child was like for Buick Audra, and how it still affects her. However, within this reflection, there’s hope that she can and has built her life and identity on her own. The five stages of grief are a cliche idea, but they’re all present in this nine-song album, with acceptance being an essential part of Audra’s journey here. “A list” ends Adult Child with the click of a tape recording. Audra leaves uswith a sense of finality and the hope of moving forward.
