Is there a better way to describe the type of genre-bending, nostalgia-brimming sonic experience Texas-based pop duo Tele Novella delivers than to call it, simply, “whimsical?” This can be said for the entirety of their first full-length release, a ten-track piece titled Merlynn Belle. Sure, the very pointed pop, folk, and psychedelic influences leap quite fluidly from one to the other, but there is a type of theatrical quality to their delivery that makes even spooky nuances in their tracks feel positive and hopeful.
Except “Crystal Witch.” That is still very intense and largely dark. But, if you choose to enjoy the short 3 minutes and 9 seconds this track takes up, you’ll still feel that theatrical positivity by the end. (Don’t ask. We don’t make the rules.)
It’s no surprise that the duo’s sound is so reminiscent of past beauty, either. The premise of their art is that it comes from a town – Lockhart, Texas, specifically – that is “a small town, lost in time.” Lyrics like “Send me a postcard when you get to” (Words That Stay), “I’ve got her bonnet and her gloves” (One Little Pearl), and “In my Technicolor Town” (Technicolor Town) reaffirm the fact that the music is to have come from that time, and is not just heavily influenced by that trend. However, the duo has done a stand-up job at making sure the majority of the lyrics translate and are not tied to one timeframe or one particular circumstance.
One overarching theme to this album is that it is there to paint a picture. Where the lyrics wouldn’t indicate context in some ways, the bassline and cadence paint their own pictures. This is truly an audio adventure, meant to be enjoyed in order, from beginning to end.
At just 32 minutes long, we have faith you can set aside some time for this energetic and truly phenomenal release in its entirety.
Bluesy, beautiful rock music. The debut release from Erica Reese – an enchanting, danceable track titled “I Know Now” – is truly a statement for the artist, who comes off as an old soul and someone who has lightyears more experience than she does. Blending a 90s grunge rock nostalgia with robust vocal abilities and a more upbeat tempo has made this track an immediate add to your playlist. Let the soulful lyrics keep you grounded as you enjoy the rhythm of this particularly endearing debut.
On the hunt for a smooth track that will have you dancing around in your kitchen like you’re at a trance club at 2 am, surrounded by neon lights and glitter? (We truly don’t care who witnesses us doing this at this point. Nostalgia has us dancing everywhere these days.) Well, you’ve found it in La Poré’s latest track “All We Have Is Us.”
Synth-infused pop tracks glisten off the pages of La Poré’s resume, the solo project garnering quite a bit of commercial attention in the few years since its conception. But can you blame people for falling in love with such all-encompassing transient atmospheres created by sound?
It was time for the members of Old News to get more personal than they ever have before. That’s how their new album, Self-Acceptance Speech, came about. Using emo sounds hailing from the late 90s and early 2000s indie rock scene, the album tells stories of self-discovery and understanding. One of these stories can be found in the reflective rock track, “1917 Cherry St.”. Here, we find out about a significant location in the singer’s life, one that he finds himself looking back on. This leads right into “722 Harter St.”, a shorter instrumental that leaves details of the significance of this address to the listener’s imagination. The starry “Flicker” provides a similar experience. This track gives the feeling of a new beginning, perhaps following the self-reflection that takes place during the prior songs. The final track is “Sunday Suit”, a standout on the album that begins with a memorable guitar riff and is an anthem for those who feel they are hiding some part of themselves beneath, in this case, the church music.
Old News have taken the nostalgia of 90s emo rock and turned it into something of their own. Says frontman Beau Harris of the goal in creating this album: “In these very tumultuous times, I think many of us are turning inwards, and we wanted to contribute by giving people a message of healing and hope.”
They’re genre expansive, gender expansive and multi-instrumentalists. They’re LE FOMO and they’re back with their new album Swallow Me Whole. The electro thrash pop duo is releasing nine tracks that are bound to get you out of your seat and onto your feet. The driving bass lines, catchy guitar riffs and punchy vocals will give you a feeling of nostalgia, but still giving a new and fresh sound. Ess Nelson (Vocals, lyrics, synths, bass, beats, arrangement) and Kai Hofius (guitar, drums, lyrics, bass) are based in Oakland, CA.
Swallow Me Whole was recorded and mixed by Maryam Qudus at Tiny Telephone and Best House Studios and mastered by Piper Payne at Infrasonic Studios. “NOTDF (Nip on the Dance Floor)”, is one of the three singles off the album and has been gaining traction through the press and from fans. “Tiny Anchor” at the core is all about loving someone, while letting go of the fears it might bring along. The song was accompanied by an animated music video that ends with the sailor letting someone in.
Although their beats may be lively and easy to lightly listen to, if you really pay attention to the lyrics, they are very clever and full of emotion. The title track, “Swallow Me Whole”, is a prime example of this especially with the verse, “Infuse your bloodstream / infuse your heart / bathe every organ, every soft weathered scar / won’t you swallow me whole, so I can sing to your guts / fill your tenderest parts, and rub up on your heart.” In “We Were Never In Control”, there’s a great combination of elements that are reminiscent of something that you might hear in the 80s. “Heedless Velvet Moonshine Rocket” is a nice transition in the middle of the album, it is a prime example of their smooth production and arrangement. “Corkscrew Hourglass” continues this sound but with Nelson’s vocals flying high over the song. Things slow down slightly with “Parabolic Rinpoche”, but still continue with the upbeat tempo that they are known for. On a less serious topic than pain,“Spoon Revolt” is about switching up who is the big and little spoon. The album wraps up with “Hot Whiskey”, it’s a slow burn that stands out on the album. It ends how it begins, with original style. LE FOMO has created an amazing piece of art inspired by pain and healed their wounds in the process. With diversified musical influences from artists like Prince, Karen O, Devo and Janelle Monae, they have created their own unique sound. Swallow Me Whole calls on us to become our fullest, most expansive selves and to find authentic human connection in that place, together. It goes beyond just an album and is a piece of the journey for LE FOMO.
Home Remedy tackles current issues, but gives you feelings of nostalgia with their sound. This album is the first release for Sundressed under their new label Rude Records. The indie-punk band has a sound similar to Modern Baseball, Weezer and All Time Low. The 11 tracks LP follows the 2017 release, A Little Less Put Together, and is a fresh, new sound for the band. Produced by Mike Pepe (Taking Back Sunday, Wasi), the highly anticipated album is finally out. Frontman Trevor Hedges said, “Home Remedy is a record about getting better by any means necessary. Despite many setbacks, I truly believe we were able to make our most authentic and honest record yet.”
Hedges along with AJ Peacox (guitar), Vic Chan (drums), Matthew Graham and Justin Portillo are putting their best foot forward with “Home Remedy”. The title track is everything you would want from the band and more. It is a cathartic release that is meant to be put on at full volume. Fans have been quick to praise the other singles, “Oh Please” and “Size of my Heart”, off the album. “Is This a Drug?” is the song that caught my attention the most. The lyrics are begging to be heard and belted back at the track; you can envision how this track would perform at a concert.
The Atlanta-based band rock out on “The Facts” and “Explode! (Into Pieces)” with strong guitar riffs and drums. Things get serious on “Cash Out”, which tackles the issues of money, insurance and mental health; “Is this the reason why we’re dying? / it’s probably more affordable so just stop trying”. Hedges explains that “Your Frequency”, “is about the “side-hustle” culture. How it’s never okay to relax, how something always comes up when you’re almost ahead. This song is about the desire to have less worry about essential needs and have more time to be human.” All the tracks are honest and catchy at the same time, without being cheesy. Listening to Home Remedy it is easy to see the effort and time put into crafting these tracks.
What started as Hedges project in 2012 to help maintain his sobriety has turned into a place for others to find comfort in themselves. The band tries to make an impact with their music and pushes listeners to keep moving forward. In this record, Sundressed focuses on topics like frustrations with money, hustle culture and mental health issues. While being relevant with the lyrics, there is something about their sound that isn’t forced and feels warm. If you are looking for a sign to listen to Home Remedy, this is it. This is the sign.
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.
The Angry Lisas shine a light on life’s heartbreaking realities and how crucial it is to learn to let them go in their impassioned and deeply genuine new video for their single “Wingwalkers.” Sean Taylor, the principal songwriter for the Portland-based indie-rock outfit, found that writing songs for the band’s upcoming album Slate Violet was the only way he could process and heal from the regret, nostalgia, gratitude, and sorrow that he collected over the last decade, or “cheap man’s therapy,” as he calls it. The album not only reflects on pain but the elation that comes from the release of pain, a release that manifests itself in catchy rock anthems that are zealous and sincere. It humbly reflects on some of the most challenging moments in Taylor’s twenties. As a part of this, “Wingwalkers” comes on the heels of Taylor’s big move away from home. Where he expected catharsis and a fresh beginning, he instead found a reflective familiarity. The idea that you can’t escape your problems, and that the only way to move on is to let go provides the foundation for the narrative of “Wingwalkers.”
The visuals and narrative of the video amplify the humility of the music by adding a layer of authenticity that can only come from watching someone else’s story. It follows two people, sometimes flashing back to their life and relationship as children, sometimes confronting the harsh reality of their life in the present. While the shots are ambiguous at first, details are slowly revealed about the situation, until the narrative reaches a burning climax. You feel your heart both warmed and broken as you watch, until the end practices what Taylor preaches about letting go. Enveloping this story are varied, down to earth guitar riffs that feel like a wordless echo of the preceding lyrics. The vocals are classic; soft, yet earnest. But “Wingwalkers” is only a taste of the emotional atlas that is Slate Violet, and the rolling drums at the end of the track remind us that this isn’t over, there are more challenges and revelations ahead.
