hurrah a bolt of light gets morbid in new music video for an/animal 3

hurrah a bolt of light gets morbid in new music video for an/animal 3

Minneapolis-based rock band Hurrah a Bolt of Light returns with their new video for AN/ANIMAL 3, the single from their upcoming visual album AN/ANIMAL. With a style described as “pop music for sad people”, Hurrah blends rock, prog, ambient, and other genres to create a dense concept album in line as a return to form after the sugary polish of their last album. In a 16-minute music video spanning four tracks within segments, the album brings a cinematic experience combining atmospheric visuals with cryptic lyrics and a murky vibe. AN/ANIMAL 3 represents the darkest portion of the album’s narrative.

The track combines a visceral clash of garage-rock-inspired guitars with instrumental breaks reminiscent of progressive rock, spawning a beautiful yet eerie sound enhanced by its content centered on despair and death. The music video reflects its macabre vibe, featuring a man kidnapped and attempting to escape his captor, ultimately facing brutal consequences. The cinematography is a perfect complement to the song’s horror-esque tone with a sense of surrealism as the video’s events occur in a loop. Admits the artist of the track:

“An/Animal 3” is the third piece of the four part puzzle that is AN/ANIMAL. For this point in the story, I wanted to create a song that was frantic, frenetic, confrontational and wild. Key changes and mood shifts run amok, land, and then veer off elsewhere. The video mirrors those vibes as well and shows both the protagonist and antagonist in various states of distress and agitation that conclude with their violent meeting. The visuals only scratch the surface of what the story as a whole might mean. It’s a bit unclear on purpose.

I wrote the music and recorded nearly all the instruments for this song and AN/ANIMAL in general. Except for the drums and some keyboards because I am not that good at drums and some keyboards. This part of the movie was particularly difficult to film and execute because I had to a) be in my underwear for the majority of the film and b) be chased outside in late fall wearing said underwear. It was very cold.

Check out the premiere of the new video below and stay tuned for AN/ANIMAL, which is slated to drop in January 2022.

the nevada city album

the nevada city album

Welcome to Nevada City. The small town is infused with musical talent across several genres, and it’s all showcased on The Nevada City Album, a compilation put out by Dowd Records in celebration of the Nevada City Film Festival. As we come across each artist featured on the album, we can trace a progression of genre from mood music to courageous hard rock. 

Our first stop is Brett Shady, a folk singer who describes his music on twitter as easy listening. His track “Dear Life” is a swaying waltz that endears all who it flutters by with Shady’s uncomplicated voice and some whimsical sax playing. Things get a little psychedelic with Aaron Ross farther along the album, with his own personal brand of freak folk in his song “Painted Sky.” Its endless and dreamy guitar riff, bejeweled synth melodies and odd backing vocals certainly paint an interesting sky– one that Lucy and Sgt. Pepper could gaze upon together. These indie tracks are echoed by “Peaks and Passes”, a fleeting gem on the album gifted to us by The Moore Brothers. A blues guitar riff and harmonies reminiscent of doo-wop or even gospel music make for an eclectic sound that shows how extensive the influences are around Nevada City. But we have only scratched the surface of the cavernous pool of genres on this compilation.

“Coming Down” by Jessica Lynn and Broken Spoke and “Heart on Fire” by Farrow and the Peach Leaves both rock a country/americana sound, with classic country vocals and roots-oriented guitar. “Heart on Fire” has a hint of happy-go-lucky energy to it, while “Coming Down” layers in some twangy guitar for a more western sound. Soon enough, however, the clouds roll in and that western sound darkens for Tiera May’s “Ballad of the Damned.” Her moody psych rock comes from rumbling guitars, atmospheric cymbal rolls and May’s apparition-like vocals that writhe through the air like the wails of a ghost. Less spectral but just as moody, the alt-rock track “400 Degrees” by Casual Fog uses slow, gloomy guitars and a rising bassline to create a perpetual, inevitable demeanour that carries you along with it. 

Speaking of rock music, this compilation is an ecosystem of the genre, with diverse species that work together to cultivate an interesting and fruitful environment. First we travel back in time to the 80’s with “Hungry for the Dark,” by TLA, another alternative rock tune with lots of influence from punk and new wave. Its drum machine, prominent synth bassline and embellishments and the robotic lead vocals make you nostalgic for the post-punk era, no matter what year you were born in. Dipping into some electronica, “Lrn2love” by The Fit transports us to another planet entirely, with its glitching, cybernetic music and computerized vocals. The celestial rock bop “In Gratitude” by Shapes Freely, on the other hand, exists suspended in space. Its gentle vocals, orbiting synths and strings paint a vivid soundscape from outer space complete with stars, planets, rocket ships, and even extraterrestrial beings. On our way back down again, we meet “The Bad One” by Mount Whateverest, or, ‘the highest band on earth.’ This track is a product of what the band calls “solar powered fuzz and roll,” complete with slow, disjunct, infectious beats and a variety of vocals with different effects. Mount Whateverest utilizes whatever they can from saccharine pop melodies to big classic rock riffs to reach new heights with their music. 

Finally, we reach the antipode of the easy, calm sound of “Dear Life” with the hard rock tracks “Killed Alive” by Cherry Rats and “Beverly Hills” by Beautiful Dudes. The former’s crashing drums and vigorous distorted guitar provide you with a taste of 2020 style classic rock. The Dudes are known for their cathartic hard rock sound and catchy hooks, and “Beverly Hills” certainly delivers, sounding grungy but upbeat in a vaguely Weezer-like way. 

The Nevada City Album sought a varied and gifted assortment of artists in the area, scooped them up and unified them in a multifaceted compilation that has something for everyone. It’s well worth listening to, for when you find yourself drawn to some of the musicians, you know exactly where to look for live shows! 

the sea the sea, stumbling home

the sea the sea, stumbling home

by: katy mombourquette

It’s a long life, made up of seemingly infinitesimal moments. The Sea The Sea captures those moments when you feel incredibly alive and in the world and reimagines them as flashes of light in their new album, Stumbling Home. When time seems to stretch into prolonged chaos, The Sea The Sea keeps us grounded in the essential with their beautifully intricate brand of indie folk-pop. The New York-based duo is composed of Chuck and Mira Costa, who draw their infectious melodies from pop, but otherwise subverts expectations with their unconventional song arrangements. More than anything else, however, this free-spirited pairing are lauded for their exemplary vocal harmonies. The Costas’ exquisite vocals fit together like puzzle pieces tailor-made for the duo. Their voices are completely authentic, sounding lovely and unblemished in their own right. But while duets are a key part of The Sea The Sea’s sound, they also play with thick choral-textured harmonies and solo lines to add some variance among the tracks while still maintaining their sound. 

Stumbling Home is brimming with musical imagery that is at times delicate and at other times deep and rustic. The result is glimpses of life, as seen through nature and a little bit of magic. The opening track, “Nothing Brighter” sounds like light, with the glint of sunlight on a clear day in the understated woodwind flourishes, and the glowing bass and piano as the blurry hues of a sunset. The relaxed, tranquil guitar solo sounds like it’s underwater, painting images of rays of light extending down beneath the surface. “A Thousand Years” is more concrete, sounding like the musical equivalent of camping beneath a starry sky. The rich guitar picking and embellishments are the flickers of the fire as they rise above and become stars overhead. The track embodies the deeply rooted tranquility that comes from being removed from society, as felt in the gentle thump of the drum in the stunning interlude partway through the song. Other images are abstract, such as in “Rainstorm.” While there are no explicit qualities in the track that denote a storm, as a whole, it has this somber beauty to it that echoes that of the fall of rain and thundering clouds. 

In literature and art, however, one can always find magic embedded within nature. The Sea The Sea captures this magic in their songs with sparing uses of synth and electric guitar. The chorus of the emotional “Broken” sweeps up in a satisfying multi-part harmony and ends with glimmering drops of guitar plucks. Towards the end, these drops lead the song to the pleasantly haunting outro “oohs,” transforming the sound from sparkling fairy dust to mystic beings deep within the forest. “Fall Before The Climb” starts with a simple voice and guitar, but builds, first with harmony, then with a gently driven beat and dulcet electric tones that return to the shimmering stars of “A Thousand Years”, but from the perspective of outer space rather than earth. The acute line “Can we be in love with it all?” summarizes the album as a whole, mirroring the idea of the moments in life when you feel alive and in tune with the world. Uncomplicated guitar strums and the Costas’ patented vocals showcase guitar and synth sorcery in “Stumbling Home.”  Bowed strings make their appearance for the first time in this track. Despite how well they fit, the strings are a bit of a surprise, giving “Stumbling Home” a bit of refinement compared to the other, more rustic tracks. Subtle but welcome changes like this find their way into many songs on Stumbling Home. “Parachute” sounds like you would expect after hearing a few songs on this album, except Chuck’s harmony is missing. Instead, Mira backs herself with echoes and a feathery multi-part harmony that sound like forest nymphs. The track also feels more intimate than the others, beginning with some room noise and ending with an ambiguous woosh sound that keeps the listener tethered to the real world. The standout track “Real Thing” realizes a slightly harder, rock sound with a bit of sharp guitar strums and stronger drum beat. Every guitar, synth melody, and percussion part contributes to the full sound, and the universally appealing chorus line “ahh, give me that real thing” has that cathartic nature to it that makes this track one to sing along to. I only wish it were longer; every time I listen to it I’m disappointed when it reaches its end. “I’ll Be Loving You” and “Foreign Country” share an understated mesmerizing quality. “I’ll Be Loving You” and its 6/8 time creates this swaying nature that’s perfect for a love song. Spirited triplet guitar figures simultaneously embrace the vocals and the listener, coaxing both to sink into serenity. “Foreign Country” has substantial guitar, but the line “Do we ever really know exactly where we are?” floats across the background like falling leaves, and the perpetual beat invites the listener to snap along, almost in a trance.

The Sea The Sea’s 2014 debut release, Love We Are We Love, received praise from NPR, American Songwriter, and No Depression. The video for their song “Waiting” sparked the interest of Buzzfeed and Pitchfork, and was included at the international TED 2015 conference. But for the duo, Stumbling Home reaches a new level of fulfillment. “It’s the work we are most proud of to date,” shares Mira. “We are proud of the way we grew the arrangements in our new creative space. Making music fills us, and we also believe that it matters in the world. Our mission statement as a band is to remind people they aren’t alone — in their pains or their joys, and everything in-between.” This shrewd sense of the world, both what it seems to be and what it is, allows Stumbling Home to be a beacon of light in an otherwise ill-lit world. 

anna wolf ft. pop morrison, “the unfamiliar”

anna wolf ft. pop morrison, “the unfamiliar”

by: katy mombourquette

There’s something about a folk/indie vibe that feels so incredibly creepy in the context of horror. (“Tiptoe Through The Tulips”, anyone?) Singer-songwriter Anna Wolf and songwriter/producer Pop Morrison certainly bring this spine-chilling energy to their title track and music video for the horror film “The Unfamiliar.” Wolf is a singer-songwriter and holder of many awards for her sharp and highly idiosyncratic music. Morrison is known as Jamie when he drums for the rock band The Stereophonics, but he transforms into the eccentric and explosive Pop Morrison when he takes on music production. 

The music video intersperses scenes from the movie with close up, blurry shots of the duo. With Wolf and Morrison lingering outside the narrative, the video feels like a micro-horror work in its own right. It plays with the dynamics of dark and light, and though it’s simple on the surface, there are layers of intricacy that reveal the deep amount of thought that was put into it. As Wolf sings “the dark and the light” the shot moves from the darkness surrounding her to the light shining on Morrison’s guitar. A fleeting scream cuts through the song as the visual flashes to and from a shot of a child from the movie. These subtle touches add a lot of depth to the video, creating a haunting and memorable performance that finds its own beauty amidst the occult psychodrama of the film.   

The music itself is atmospheric, but sparse, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Voices sweep across the background like the wails of a ghost. Drums beat gently but ominously beneath Wolf’s searing vocals. Her voice takes on the supernatural quality of Kate Bush and Joanna Newsom, helping her to embody the eerie, possessed nature of a ghoul. Even Pop’s guitar has the transient, mystic feel of a phantom, thanks to his precise production. While the rest of the track feeds into the sinister feel of the film, the acoustic guitar adds an interesting fairytale quality that projects elegant indie-folk imagery for the audience. There’s a lot in “The Unfamiliar” that reveals things about the film. Morrison says, “The song sets a tone before you’ve even seen the film, the same way the movie leaves a mark after you’ve seen it.” The duo did an excellent job of executing the vision of the filmmakers, with  the film’s director and co-writer Henk Pretorius saying, “Anna Wolf and Pop Morrison’s music dreamily conveys the dark lure of The Unfamiliar. I got emotional when I heard what they created.”

About The Unfamiliar
The Unfamiliar is an independent horror film, set in the UK and Hawaii, showcasing a melting pot of rising British, European and South African crew and cast members. Directed by Henk Pretorius and produced by Llewelynn Greeff and Barend Kruger, the Anglo-French Jemima West (Indian Summer, The Mortal Instruments) stars as British Army doctor Elizabeth ‘Izzy’ Cormack, returned from war to rekindle her relationship with her estranged family. Alarmed by the numerous inexplicable activities around the house, Izzy seeks ineffectual professional help before confiding in her husband. He believes that she is going through PTSD and advises her to rest and recuperate in Hawaii. It’s there that she gets sucked into the underworld of Hawaiian mythology, as she attempts to piece together the elaborate and elegant puzzle to reveal an ancient and terrifying spiritual presence haunting her family. You can watch the trailer here

brontë fall, finishing school

brontë fall, finishing school

by: katy mombourquette

Today, the deeply relevant EP Finishing School was released by Brontë Fall. The literature-infused pen name is the songwriting project of classically trained musician Teri Bracken, who is ever inspired by the Brontë sisters and their courageous defiance of social norms at a time when women’s voices often went unheard. After coming across Emily Brontë’s poem “Fall Leaves Fall”, Bracken fell in love with the idea of finding beauty in the darker seasons of life. In her own life and music, Bracken embodies the spirit of this poem and the Brontë sisters with an openness and eloquence that firmly impresses her messages in her listeners’ minds. Most of all, Bracken wants to use her art to empower those around her and to connect with those who can identify with her experiences. She says:

As a musician, I almost feel like I’m defending who I am and what I want. Perhaps I feel pressure to be a certain way. These songs were written about feeling proud of where I am and what I’m doing. It’s about feeling empowered wherever you are in life, and celebrating the past while building your own kind of future.

Bracken attacks her issues from different places, opting for a tougher sound in “Warrior”, “Bad Ideas”, and “White Dress”, but also showing her softer side in “Six Years”, “Freeway High”, and “Give You A Halo.” No matter her musical approach, however, her words show her courage and boldness to say what she has to say. Finishing School is packed with empowering anthems, sometimes punchy, sometimes subtle, but all with catchy choruses that use repeated words and melodic lines to drive her points home. Each track deals with a female experience, entertaining and inspiring her listeners along the way. 

“Six Years” is a celebration of aging contrary to the praise put on the youthfulness of women in today’s world. Bracken’s voice isn’t loud or confrontational as she sings, but rather it assumes a calmness that comes from a place of complete honesty. Yet at the same time, her voice could fill an entire room, ringing out full and glorious. The track slowly builds, with drums and the bulk of the music only coming in in the second verse, giving it its anthemic quality as Bracken sings “I’m six older, six years smarter, six years stronger with a will that’s unbreakable.” “Freeway High” is all about liberation and letting go. On the surface, this liberation is symbolized in the freedom of an open road but, on a deeper level, it calls to mind the freedom that the Brontë sisters and Bracken herself were (and still are) fighting for. The track has a bit of a country sound, drawing the line between Bracken’s pop and rock influences. Her soaring vocals rise straight to heaven where they’re greeted by angelic harmonies, while a solo violin part adopts its own sense of liberty as it freely moves through notes. In a heartbreakingly tender but equally powerful ballad, “Give You A Halo”, Bracken sings of someone she’s afraid of losing, written for her Grandma. It begins with a ¾ time piano part that reminds one of a black and white scene of a Parisian street in a melancholic french film, setting the sentimental mood for the track. Strings slowly join in, exploring soul-stirring deep ranges that fortify her words. As Bracken sings “Oh late at night I try to call on you without tears in my eyes… but I’m not ready to give you a halo,” with such an earnest conviction, you can’t help but to feel your own heartbreak. 

While all of these tracks are similarly calm with a subtle sense of empowerment to them, Bracken is far from one-dimensional, and the remaining three tracks on Finishing School show it. “Warrior” is tough with its electric guitar and blues-rock singing style. Dealing with the fight against misogyny in business and the music industry, this track is a swaggering anthem that uses a piece of wisdom from Donatella Versace (“A dress is a weapon”) to depict femininity as an arsenal. From her voice to her words, Bracken is unapologetic and badass, singing “go ahead and call me a tease, I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve.” “Bad Ideas” has a darker sound to it, with low-range underlying harmonies and short string strokes that add a sense of drama. The song points out how complicated life can be, wanting to “unbreak” someone’s heart even though it’s a bad idea. To close off the EP, “White Dress” returns to the spunky energy of “Warrior” but in an old-fashioned way– using an organ and a bluesy sound that feels somewhat ironic set against her modern feminist words. About the constant pressure to get married, Bracken defies expectations and sings “it may not look like the rest, this is my white dress,” showing that she can find fulfillment outside of marriage. 

This closing track brings us right back to the core of the album: honesty. Bracken is channelling the Brontë sisters and their feminism to provide an EP that not only speaks her truth about the expectations that persist for women even today but also gives validation to anyone out there who wants to break free of those expectations. Finishing School may cross into different genres and explore varied musical elements, but each song is unified by Bracken’s expressive voice, and most importantly, her beautiful and pertinent words.

cold beaches, drifter

cold beaches, drifter

Sophia Nadia’s admired reputation as an “unapologetic do-er” comes from her remarkable dedication to her career. Her unceasing penchant for touring beginning at only 16 years old and her courage to move to Chicago not long after shows that her commitment to her work knows no bounds. In the moments of time when she’s not touring, Sophia is fervently writing and recording her next release, each one furthering her excellent orchestration skills and exploring pop and rock genres. Her Chicago-based project Cold Beaches dropped their new album Drifter today, a work of art that is as limitless as it is intimate. With a newly founded voice of empowerment for Nadia that makes its appearance in the album, Drifter is a vivacious, live recorded movement away from the band’s earlier lo-fi bedroom pop sound towards psychedelic rock ‘n roll. Some influences to keep an ear out for for are the plain-spoken lyrical integrity of 90’s Pavement, the hard garage rock sound of Ty Segal, and the hypnotic indie surf pop of La Femme. While Drifter deals with a variety of feelings, from the losses of relationships to the optimism of independence from depression and anxiety, it’s also an emotional blank page that any listener can fill with their own feelings and find comfort in whatever way they may need it. Nadia hopes that people find solace in her musical offering, especially those who are marginalized in the music industry.

Drifter must get its name from its transient tracks that freely move between grungy rock and dreamy psychedelic pop. Certain tracks drift closer to one side or the other, however. “Ride”, “Somebody”, “Band Boy”, “Boy, You’re Evil”, and “Grief Stricken Blues” all stay more or less tethered to the earth with their grounding drums and substantial guitar riffs. 

“Ride” is twangy western guitar meets energetic girl-power pop, with its uncomplicated lyrics and matter-of-fact vocals. The song follows a narrative about stealing a “villain’s motorcycle.” Though it’s unclear whether it’s showing Nadia’s heartbreak or her ruthless besmirch of this man, this track is a poetic metaphor for giving deserving “villains” in the scene what’s coming to them. The chromatic descending power chords and her repeated vocals create revving instrumentals that show off Nadia’s orchestration skills, setting a tone for the album that says it’s going to be just as much about the instruments as the vocals. “Somebody” reveals a similarly manic and merciless side of Nadia. In the music video, her motel stay is interrupted by a troubling phone call and her night turns into a nightmare filled with paranoia as she barricades her motel door; protecting herself from an evil man trying to steal her heart. It’s brief, suspenseful, and incredibly fast-moving with fuzzy guitar riffs and straightforward drums and bass that are a manifestation of the true terror and disgust Nadia has towards anyone who may try to take advantage of her. The creepiness that pervades this track is enhanced by the whispered vocals– even more so with headphones. 

“Band Boy” does feel a lot like psychedelic pop, but the strength of the beat and chromatic guitar overpowers Nadia’s muted vocals and the jazzy chords. The chorus is the epitome of pop, from its bouncy beat to the high vocal line, and even the word “bubblegum” finds its way into the lyrics. “Boy You’re Evil” also has dampened vocals and a full-bodied chorus, but the rock-centered drums and the brightly toned guitar are there to keep the track from drifting too far. “Grief Stricken Blues” uses major 7th chords halfway through the first verse, but they’re bright and thick in texture. The opening guitar riff is concrete, and once the bass and drums come in it gains that bit of grit that comes with blues-rock, but it somehow feels soothing rather than edgy. As tangible as the verses are, however, the chorus can’t help but detach with dreamy guitars that bring an element of sonic euphoria. The opening guitar riff persists into the next verse and the outro, and by the end of the song it’s comforting nature makes sense as the familiarity of its obstinacy feels like an old friend.
 
While the pleasant haze that falls on “Grief Stricken Blues” can feel quite salient at times, “Problems & Heartache (I Got Them)”, “Love Me”, and “Go Easy On Me” take it to a new level. These kaleidoscopic tracks are otherworldly in their instrumentation, once again showing Nadia’s aptitude for composition. The dream-pop synth chords, reverberating guitars and gentle, crooning vocals in “Problems & Heartache (I Got Them)” seem to bleed into each other, creating an otherworldly experience. The lyrics are vulnerable, transporting the listener to a place where the music– and Nadia’s feelings– are intricate, yet succinct. Touches of dissonant chords and notes add that bit of pain that is an inevitable part of opening up. When you listen to this one, close your eyes and let it envelop you. Feel the celestial surprises crash into one another. “Love Me” definitely leans towards soft rock with the prominence of the bass and drums, but after the initial pining solo bassline, a wave of illusory musical nostalgia crashes into you. Nadia’s misty, honest vocals sing “Love Me” on top of jazzy chords, the flavour of which is continued by an apt sax solo that floats in after the chorus. The ending track “Go Easy On Me” begins with a distorted organ-like part that creates a feeling of melancholia as Nadia sings “go easy on me” on a melody that embodies poignancy, again using discordant notes. Her singing is kept in place by the drums, but it’s on the verge of floating away, like a helium-filled balloon loosely fixed in a child’s grasp. The woodwinds in the instrumental interlude have the beauty of a whole orchestra and are followed by a sharp guitar solo that tries to cut through the magic but can’t quite. Sure enough, by the end of the track, all the music has floated away. 

All the songs so far have explored the line that separates garage rock from psychedelic pop, and have dabbled on either side, but Nadia also offers two tracks that represent the poles of illusion and reality. The muted vocals and folksy, slightly out of tune acoustic guitar makes “SGIT” sound removed, like a dream or a passing thought. The lyrics are sad, “I hate myself and everybody else,” but perhaps hopeful as well, “I should stick around.” “I Miss You So So Much, I Really Do” isn’t concrete in terms of its music, the piano background is as tender and gentle as it is passionate and vastly resonant. Instead of a vocal line, however, there is a voice recording that sounds like it could be taken from a voicemail. It’s hard to make out much of what the voice is saying, most of the words are lost in the waves of ambient piano, but what does come through is the line “I really really really do miss you, I really do. I really really miss you… a lot.”  It’s the intimacy and the honesty that pours out of this recording that makes this one-minute track the most tangible of all.

There is a lot going on in Drifter, but there are certain qualities that make it stand out as an exceptional piece of work. Its transitional nature that comes from Cold Beaches’ development into a more polished sound calls to mind ideas of rebirth and reinvention, something that is not only attractive for the album but builds intrigue for the band’s future. Each song has oodles of quirks to listen for, allowing you to listen to them on repeat without fear of them growing tired. Despite the fact that Drifter’s tracks are incredibly varied in sound, they have this unifying tone that to them that sounds like 9 pm in the middle of summer: warm, light, and seemingly too good to be true. Most of all, however, Drifter is dripping with potential, and I for one am excited to see what new heights Cold Beaches will undoubtedly reach in the future. 


emily duff, born on the ground

emily duff, born on the ground

She was born in Flushing, Queens and raised by a pack of cigarettes. With only four chords to remember her mother by, she took her love of vintage guitars, muscle cars, and old man bars and pursued music without ever looking back. She sang lead vocals for Gary Lucas’ Gods & Monsters, and opened for Bob Dylan and Paul Simon at Jones Beach Amphitheater with her band Eudora. After taking a break to grow, get married and raise some lovely kids, she turned once again to music in 2015 to release her debut solo album Go Tell Your Friends. She is Emily Duff. A wife, mother, and artist who managed to find happiness and become a role model despite never really having one herself. A couple more albums and some TV and film projects later, she is now looking back at the past with the confidence and wisdom from motherhood and marriage in her new record Born on the Ground.

This illustrious musician sings nine “love” songs that represent nine different breakups from her past. With time and self-love, she looks back on these experiences without anger, instead, she wants to examine them with the maturity she has gained. While the songs on Born on the Ground refer to Duff’s past relationships, she points out that breakups aren’t always romantic, one can break up with friends, careers, and even bad habits. They’re hard, but they can be the seed that turns into a better understanding of yourself. The universality of what Duff is discussing is reflected in Born on the Ground. Her songwriting shows an expert command over the genres of country, roots, soul, and rock and as a result, the album is a well crafted, classic set of accessible songs. Rock and blues are established by the drums, country is brought in by Duff’s voice, and the bass, guitar, and keys drift in between. Her sensitive lyrics are graced with sophisticated metaphors, and there’s a guitar solo in every song.

Some tracks are more straightforward, like the opener “We Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere”, with the line “Oh honey get off the train, we ain’t goin’ nowhere” talking about a dead end relationship. It has a bluesy-rock sound to it from the piano and underlying harmonies, but it also has a kind of deep earthiness to it. “There Is A Way Out” urges someone to deflate their ego, telling them that they don’t have to be so self centered. Lines from “Knuckle Sandwich” such as “how ‘bout my fist down your throat” and “how’d you like if I opened up a can of whoop-ass” make her message crystal clear. “Forever Love” tells of a supposedly undying love that ended anyway. But accessible as they are, these songs are far from boring. “There Is A Way Out” has a fun piano solo and the bridge is almost anthemic with its full harmonies, cymbal crashes, and guitar solo. “Knuckle Sandwich” is just an explosion of energy, driven by the spirited guitar, supported by the drums and ornamented by the lightning-fast piano glissandos. It contains itself just for a moment towards the middle of the track only to come back stronger, with unbridled energy that persists right to the end. “Forever Love” is pretty classic in its blues/country sound. Yet it has almost gospel-like harmonies in the chorus, which has this congregational sound to it that compels you to sing along with it. The clarity of these songs creates a sense of knowing between you and them.

The rest of the songs on Born on the Ground are more puzzling. The title track has some ambiguous lyrics such as “Put on my favourite red party dress, and dance with the devil in five-inch heels” and “when you’re born on the ground, you’re dead inside.” The bass in particular but also the mood of the song in general has a darkness to it, suggesting that something may be going on underneath the surface. In a similar way, “No Escape” hints at something alluring, from the 1920’s blues club feel of the music to Duff’s sultry voice. But the electric organ and lyrics like “I would do most anything if you would only disappear” denote something sinister– right down to the expressive ending. “Something Sexy” has a classic rhythm guitar part and a strong country vibe, and the lyrics chide someone for not understanding a “phenomenal” girl. Perhaps the girl in question is Duff herself, looking back at a relationship with a renewed sense of self-worth… but perhaps it means something else entirely. “Killer” still has the same kind of sound as the others, but it also has a wistful quality from the fuzzy bass, electric piano and held chords that soften it. Duff sings “there’s a killer among us, tearing at this happy ending.” It’s unclear what exactly is going on, but seems as though there’s something poisoning her relationship. The final track, “Easy Go!” has a fun rhythm in the guitar, which is great for bringing ‘er home. The lyrics seem to be about warning someone not to love her, “lovin’ me’s like diving into flames,” but at the same time implores her lover not to haunt her.

The songs that you find puzzling and straightforward might be different from mine, but no matter how you interpret it you can expect Born on the Ground to be both relatable and thought-provoking. There’s more to this album than meets the eye, much like Emily Duff herself.

Produced by Eric “Roscoe” Ambel, and recorded live in Brooklyn featuring the Emily Duff band and guests Eric Ambel on guitars and vocals & Syd Straw, Mary Lee Kortes & Tricia Scotti on background vocals, Born on the Ground will be released on June 26th. You can also see Duff doing her “virus escape” live stream from her Hudson street fire escape every Sunday at 4 PM EST on her Facebook page, and watch the video for “We Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” here.

sincere gifts, “ghost of america”

sincere gifts, “ghost of america”

Los Angeles-based indie band Sincere Gifts have just released their new single, “Ghost of America”. The upbeat alt-rockers couple bright sounds and light-hearted production against dark lyricism for a fun listen that gets their serious (and important) message across.

Two lost musicians, Benben and Nick, found each other in the midst of America’s collapse. They emerged from the darkness as Sincere Gifts, conjuring love and earnest companionship. Because what is more needed in the era of rapacious capitalist greed than a sincere gift?

“Ghost of America” puts a strong focus on the current landscape in the United States in 2020. “The US is super fucked,” says vocalist Nick Byron Campbell.” In ‘Ghost of America’ the listener is taken on a short musical tour through the decline.”

At first listen, the track appears to be all sunshine and rainbows on the surface, but take a closer look (or more appropriately, listen) and hear the very real issues that the band is tackling. Sincere Gifts tackles everything from zombies to guns to riots before stripping back and ending the song with a stripped back and mesmerizing take on a section of the National Anthem. The band impressively tackles mountainous issues while making their important message fun and easy to take heed of. Keep doing what you’re doing, boys, America needs you.

the districts, you know i’m not going anywhere

the districts, you know i’m not going anywhere

Four-piece indie rock outfit The Districts have just released their new album, You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere, the album that almost never happened.

After nearly 200 shows and two years of touring in support of their 2017 effort, Popular Manipulations, the band found themselves both professionally and personally exhausted. And, with the shadow of needing to create a new album looming over them, the Districts started questioning everything.

In a press release, front man Rob Grote said “It felt like much of my world had reached such a pitch that all I could do was try to tune it out. I felt really uncertain about the future of the band and super detached from much of what I used to identify with, on a personal level and with our music. I was thinking, ‘Do I want to keep doing music?’ ‘Do I want to keep doing it in this context?”. So Grote did what any musician having an existential crisis would do; he holed himself up in his bedroom and began writing, not necessarily for The Districts, but to get excited about creating again. It was here that he found the space and freedom he needed to be creative again. He ended up with a batch of 32 songs, and while he never intended them for The Districts, when he finally showed them to the band, they loved them. Those 32 were cut to 11, and thus You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere was born.

Album opener “”My Only Ghost” is an ode to secrets and memories with ones we’ve lost. The synth almost overpowers the vocals, (which have a Bon Iver kind of feel) but it works, giving the track a lo-fi feel. Between this, echo-y clapping, and thickly layered shout-y vocals, the song feels almost like chilling cult-like chant.

“Hey Jo” is the lead single from the album and the definite standout. A circus of sound, this piece is thickly textured, but the song is incredibly well put together. Credit to producer Dave Fridmann is owed here, whose mix expertly layered the many elements into a cohesive whole. This track floats on plucked guitars and airy vocals before kicking into a fiery chorus with Grote repeating “Fuck my head.”

“Cheap Regrets”, is an electrifying disco number on the surface, but the lyrical content dives into nihilism and the shadows of consciousness that lurk in our minds. This one has all the bright and shiny qualities that we love in a dance number while letting everyone listening still feel angsty as hell. Of the song, Grote says; “This song is a criticism of the divisions that result from a self-oriented society and an attempt to transcend them, while simultaneously being an example of these very ideas. The song is the statue to the self; it is about itself.”

Upbeat and full of glittery guitar, “Velour and Velcro” is a love letter to the unknown future we’re all rocketing towards.“Changing” ebbs and flows, enjoying sweet, quiet moments of reflection and questioning before launching into electrifying choruses. “Descend” is a deceptively chipper folksy string plucked number that deals with death and separation.

Closer “4th of July” strips it back and feels sweetly reflective. Hand picked guitar and sliding whistling ride over Grote’s breathy and thoughtful vocals. It feels like a cross-country road trip, and not just because he sings about his own to Sante Fe. It’s a nice full circle moment of peace and closure.

You Know I’m Not Going Anywhere is out everywhere on March 13th via Fat Possum.