As a music nerd, it’s fun to listen to new releases and try to figure out where an artist’s influences come from. However, it takes talent and real musical ambition to not just seem like an admirer of certain inspirations with nothing original to say. Inside Out, the new album from Florida-based singer-songwriter Jason Montero, wears its influences on its sleeve yet keeps things fresh with new ideas. It’s a record clearly worshiping a lot of classic rock but focusing deeply on grooves, shared chemistry between band members, and varied instrumentation to be a consistently enjoyable listen.
Montero, a guitarist and longtime performer in bands local to the Phoenix area (Honey Child, The Limit, The Wood Band), explained that this album specifically resulted from dusting off some late-80s/early-90s songs he never ended up recording. For the studio recording sessions, several old bandmates and friends from his life helped to contribute parts, and everyone’s enthusiasm for the project clearly shines through. Every song sounds like a portion of a fun afternoon jam session, with the backing band getting ample opportunities to contribute, whether it’s for rhythm or simply texture and atmosphere.
The first half of the album surprised me with how danceable and almost funk-driven it was. Songs like “No James Dean”, “Criss Cross”, and lead single “Thorn” all have delightful swinging grooves that’s toe-tapping fun throughout their entire runtime. The emphasis on hand drums and shakers during certain tracks turns what could be simple bar band blues-rock into something more worldly and cultured than expected. Sometimes the songs reminded me of Paul Simon’s Graceland or even Vampire Weekend’s early world music excursions. A song like “Conclusive Illusions” has layers of sounds to it, but each instrument develops tightly together into complex polyrhythms. It’s impressive at the level of musicianship present during certain songs.
The second half of Inside Out is less upbeat, introducing elements of folk and psychedelia. “Marvel at the Rainbow” and closer “Her Majesty’s List” are sweet and earnest, mainly featuring Montero with soft and gentle acoustic guitar playing. Speaking of which, his acoustic and electric guitar work are consistently great, with the latter getting to shine on heavier songs like “Gomorrah” and “Rebecca”. Montero’s vocals, like a lot of classic rock singers, are more about their grit and gruffness than necessarily their technical ability, and they complement the bluesier songs well enough. He also produced the album himself, and the sound of the production fits perfectly. It’s very natural and rural sounding to match the vintage influences and shines during the more acoustic sections of the record.
Inside Out isn’t perfect and may rely too much on classic rock conventions for some, yet that’s part of why it works. Going back to these old songs written decades ago was clearly a nostalgia-driven exercise for Jason Montero, and that passion shines through in every song. If he had rewritten and updated them from the work of a less experienced singer-songwriter, the initial appeal of recording the songs, to begin with, would be lost. As it is, Inside Out is a time capsule of songs that aren’t confined to the decades originally written from.
For those weary of pop’s increasingly homogenized soundscapes, the Indianapolis duo LITTRELL emerges as a refreshing antidote. Their latest single, “Dirty,” doesn’t just defy genres—it blends them seamlessly, creating a uniquely turbulent and immersive sonic experience.
“Dirty” combines a haunting atmosphere with intense energy, placing LITTRELL among forward-thinking acts like Massive Attack, Portishead, and BANKS. Lindsay Littrell’s vocal performance walks a tightrope between urgency and haunting restraint, perfectly anchored by Garrett Langebartels’ masterful production.
At its core, “Dirty” explores the inherent messiness of intimacy, rejecting idealized notions of love in favor of raw, complex emotions, in spite of their messiness. The song’s thematic complexity is mirrored in its sound, showcasing LITTRELL’s ability to craft a sound that’s both beautiful and haunting.
LITTRELL’s lyrics delve into the discomfort of shallow relationships. The opening lines, “I don’t wanna be your respite from reality / When you go you leave the ashes of your fantasies,” set the stage for a song that craves genuine connections over escapism. The chorus, “They don’t keep me warm / They just pile up on the floor / And leave me feelin’ dirty,” highlights the emptiness left by temporary comforts.
“Dirty” demands active engagement from its listeners, encouraging them to dive deep into its disquieting themes. LITTRELL understands that true catharsis comes from confronting the messiness head-on and finding transformation on the other side.
“Dirty” is one of 2024’s most compelling releases, challenging the polished, PR-driven mainstream with its bold, unfiltered approach. This track serves as a reminder that impactful art leaves a mark and invites listeners to explore deeper emotions.
LITTRELL has crafted a sound that is both beautiful and moody, with dark electronic elements. With lyrics and songwriting that cut through surface-level platitudes to grapple with deeper existential questions around sincerity, truth, and meaning, Lindsay Littrell and Garrett Langebartels have tapped into something truly unique as songwriters and producers. “Dirty” is a captivating single for fans of alternative and electronic music who appreciate lyrical depth and emotional resonance. Dive into the world of LITTRELL and let “Dirty” envelop you in its raw, emotional embrace.
It’s been a known stereotype that artists will use their work to process and channel their own emotions. This could be their heartbreak into paintings, their loneliness into a story, or–with the newest single by singer-songwriter Becca Stevens–the loss of their loved ones into a song. Stevens, a 2x Grammy-nominee, has been quite busy recently with both a role in the cast of the Sufjan Stevens-inspired musical “Illinoise” for the rest of the summer but also with her newest album, the entirely acoustic Maple to Paper, which releases August 30th.
Stevens has described the new album as very personal, and the lead single “Now Feels Bigger than the Past” shows her at her most vulnerable. This is largely due to three major events that shaped the tone of the album: the death of her mother, the birth of her first daughter, and the death of mentor and frequent collaborator David Crosby. The song is immediately upfront about these events; opening with a verse seemingly about artists not being appreciated and loved until they’re gone. It’s a bitter and almost angry way to open the song, but it’s clear that it’s out of Stevens’ love and respect for Crosby. She had played on his last four albums, and her vocals and sound are a dead ringer for other 70s folk singers like Joni Mitchell or Vashti Bunyan.
Stevens recorded all of Maple to Paper live without overdubs, and this single alone adds to the honesty and personal sentiments of her lyrics and vocals. It’s cliched to describe folk music as “authentic” or “intimate” but Stevens’ soft, wistful voice and the intentionally sparse production successfully capture those feelings, and it complements the song’s mournful tone perfectly.
Stevens continues to sing about loss, examining how it’s easier to appreciate someone’s flaws after they’re gone. “Imperfection is beautiful in retrospect… And great big flaws are charming when there’s no one there to correct.” This leads into the final verses where she sings of the grief brought about by her mother’s passing and the sudden disillusionment of now having to provide the same role with her own child.
It’s a heartbreaking song, yet also a masterful and poetic work by a great artist. The music video, directed by Jep Jorba, uses trick photography to show a modern-day Stevens and an older Stevens (achieved through makeup and hair curlers) singing verses to each other as though it were a dining room conversation. It visualizes the themes of Stevens contemplating her own mortality as she grows into the role her mother had, but now only has herself to talk to. “Now Feels Bigger than the Past” is an entirely haunting yet emotionally gripping lead single into Becca Stevens’ upcoming Maple to Paper.
Maybe it’s just me, but I think Gen Z needs to be more aware of the countless R&B and funk superstars from the 70s and 80s. A lot of these artists just seem to be overshadowed by larger artists like Michael Jackson, Prince, or Stevie Wonder. I love the music of those three too, but there’s so much great music that needs to be rediscovered and praised as classics. One of these artists is Chaka Khan, known as the “Queen of Funk” and has multiple hits with both her band Rufus and her solo career. She still has a large following, but only a handful of her biggest hits have reached younger audiences. If you’re unfamiliar with her work, I can’t recommend her Tiny Desk Concert performed last week at NPR enough as a starting point.
For those that don’t know, Tiny Desk Concerts are performances held in NPR’s headquarters in DC. What separates them from just a normal concert is that all the musicians and equipment must be able to fit behind the desk where NPR’s weekly podcast “All Songs Considered” gets recorded. That means all the musicians get squeezed just inches apart from each other in an office space. If it sounds awkward, that’s the fun of it! With the audience only a small group of NPR employees right next to the space, it makes the concerts more intimate, up-close, and personal. The limited room makes the music fully center stage instead of surrounding it with other stage effects and unnecessary parts of a more corporate concert performance. Really, just think of Tiny Desk Concerts as a late millennial/Gen Z version of MTV Unplugged except less pretentious and not entirely acoustic.
Despite the tight space that Chaka Khan and her band have, what’s even tighter are the nonstop grooves and funk rhythms they play for their 30-minute show. (Was that clever writing? I thought it was.) The entire time I was listening to it, I couldn’t stop dancing, swaying, and moving to the music. Chaka’s backing band that accompanies her is absolutely on fire, with the funk starting immediately and never letting up. My favorites were the percussion, shakers, and sparkly chimes, as well as the bass playing. If I had one tiny criticism, it would be that a synthesizer is used to replicate horns and orchestrations, even if a lot of classic synth-funk did that as well. However, it still sounds serviceable (even great during the closing songs), and I doubt they could fit anyone else with the limited space they had.
The concert set list is a collection of seven singles from both her solo career and time with Rufus, spanning from 1974 to 1985, with the most famous singles being at the very end. Okay, let’s talk about Chaka Khan herself during this show. You would never believe that she’s 71 years old because she looks and sounds fantastic. Her energy is loose and fun, her singing hits the high notes with ease, and she sounds almost identical to the original studio recordings. Just as good as her are her backing vocalists, who get moments of their own to shine (see Tiffany Smith getting a solo to show off her pipes on “Sweet Thing”). The onstage chemistry between Chaka, the backing vocalists, and the band is always apparent during the show.
Like many Tiny Desk Concerts, part of the fun is also the interactions between the band and the crowd. A show highlight was Chaka letting the NPR audience sing several verses on their own during “Sweet Thing”, and it’s adorable hearing the enthusiasm and love for the music from the crowd. By the time the show closes with “I’m Every Woman”, it’s impossible for anyone on stage (or yourself, for that matter) to keep a smile off their face. Chaka Khan’s Tiny Desk Concert is nothing but delightful, and a victory lap for a monumental artist.
Considering the band members that comprise psych-tinged alt-rock quartet Liily – Dylan Nash (Frontman), Sam De La Torre (Guitarist), Charlie Anastasis (Bassist), and Maxx Morando (Drummer) – are all artistic in a variety of ways, it comes as no surprise that the video for single “Swallow” off their fresh drop Liily was so fully ideated and realized by the band, who directed it. The song – which is very specifically about their disdain for trauma porn – is, according to the band, “a pretty simple rock tune, we wanted to keep it straight forward along with the rest of the EP, no bells and whistles! We saw it as our chance to be musical vs over-intellectualizing something that is meat and potatoes.”
About the composition, they are correct. A little bit of a dirty edge to it, with a steady rhythm most can get into, the song is more catchy than one would assume when they think of the subject matter. With both vocals and a video that are sprinkled with the stereotypical bored demeanor of a true rock outfit, the build of energy in the song is almost unexpected, but equally welcoming.
“Swallow” was shot by members of Liily in 2022 with a little help from Keegan James Hurley, Justin Billings, and Andie Jane. Guitarist Sam De La Torre edited it, giving it an admittedly engaging finish.
Myra Keyes is a good example of a modern-day Renaissance woman. The 19-year-old Chicago-based singer-songwriter released her debut LP Flower in the Brick in February and it’s a criminally overlooked release in modern indie rock. She’s a talent to watch over, wonderful in her vocals and guitar and bass playing, especially in how young she is. Previously, Keyes had released the EP Girl Reimagined in 2022 and worked with the Portland-based indie punk band Rawt.
Keyes’ general style, like a lot of modern indie rock, has its inspirations from the 90s with lo-fi production and some sludgy grunge guitars. She had spoken about how one of her main inspirations is indie rock goddess Liz Phair, and it’s entirely apparent as her voice is occasionally a dead ringer for Phair’s earlier work like Exile in Guyville. I’d love for Keyes to open for Liz Phair at some point based on her enthusiasm for her music. However, she still manages to not come across as an imitator by adding heavy 90s alt-rock guitars and a great rhythm section (provided by Joe Mengis of Eels on drums) for many songs. Tracks like “Powder Blue” and “Clubs” have consistently enjoyable grooves that keep the songs moving at a fast tempo and never let up. This is even during the somewhat silly rockabilly-inspired “Skylight” that features my favorite bass performance from Keyes on the record.
Keyes’ vocals are also a strong point of the album, transitioning easily from a breathy lower register (“MME”) to more expressive songs that focus more on her lyrics and personal sentiments (“A Year Above Ground”). She has a captivating presence that keeps you interested in her, and the way she consistently uses the wide range of her vocals is impressive. At only 29 minutes and eight songs, the album still has a unique voice for each track, and I’m interested in hearing what Myra Keyes offers next. Flower in the Brick is a confident debut LP that suggests more solid work from her in the future.
