Nashville-based singer and songwriter Meg Elsier has released her new album spittake and it is no joke! Recently making her debut in 2023, spittake is an album she describes as an ‘introduction to herself’ as an up-and-coming indie-rock artist. The album consists of 11 songs and was made in collaboration with Ryan McFadden, a fellow Nashville-based producer. A fun fact is that most of the titles are uncapitalized with no spaces to stay true to their original demo names!
Elsier’s haunting voice is a wonderful contrast to the electric guitar and drums that build up her sordid lyrics. If her sickeningly sweet melodies don’t make you feel melancholy, then her messages will. Most of her songs are a self-reflection of her poor thoughts and actions, usually with a partner in mind.
My personal favorite of the album is “forlyleinsanfransico”. In this song, Elsier rambles on about how she is the perfect fit for a guy (or girl) and vice versa. However, Elsier admits that she is only human and has flaws that may affect their potential relationship. My favorite verse is:
I’d be your good girl But I do bad things And I talk dirty But I keep the house clean And I’d be funny But you’d be funnier And I don’t mind it I like second seat
My take on the whole song is that Elsier’s self-hatred and selfishness is preventing her from committing to a healthy relationship. As a sad girl myself, her lyrics are very relatable!
A handful of her songs are accompanied by music videos, all viewable on Youtube. In her last song “LA”, she is depicted as a white angel on an empty black stage. Other angels identical to her appear and a confrontation ensues. The song is a musing of her life if she ever moved from Nashville to LA. Elsier acknowledges that she wouldn’t trust the lack of cold weather, the high living costs, or how emotionally distant the LA people are. According to her, the harshest reality to accept would be that there are many artists just like her, implying she would lose her authenticity and ultimately herself if she ever moved to LA.
spittake can be listened to on all streaming platforms. You can also follow Elsier on social media. As for the rest of the year, Elsier is touring in her hometown Nashville Tennessee, and all along the East Coast– in Ontario & Montreal as well.
Mike Campbell is a classic rock veteran who’s never really gotten his due, at least in the eyes of the public. His musical track record is all over the map, as a founding member of the legendary Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and a collaborator of other household names like Stevie Nicks, Bob Dylan, and Don Henley. This sort of throwback retro-rock sound pervades all throughout Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits, the third album of Campbell and his band, The Dirty Knobs. The band, composed of former Heartbreakers/Don Henley collaborators Steve Ferrone (drums), Chris Holt (guitar), and Lance Morrison (bass), began as a side project in 2000 for Campbell but became a full-time project from the dissolution of The Heartbreakers following Petty’s death. This is their third album after 2020’s Wreckless Abandon and 2022’s External Combustion.
Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits is musically defined by many of the same textures that defined the Heartbreakers’ sound: blues, rootsy country, and occasionally some hard-edged rock & roll. The album’s vintage vibes never attempt to reinvent the wheel, but that’s missing the point. Mike Campbell & The Dirty Knobs’ appeal is hearing a band of energized veteran musicians play the music they love without a care in the world, and it’s why the album succeeds on its own merits. Even if part of one’s affection towards the band may come from their own nostalgia towards the Heartbreakers and classic rock in general, it’s still a well-crafted piece of retro rock with consistently killer performances.
The best songs on the album are the ones where the band is firing on all cylinders, such as the loose and fast-paced rock-n-rollers “Shake These Blues”, “So Alive”, and “Don’t Wait Up”. They each have an irresistible groove with amazing guitar playing, and the band’s chemistry and individual talents all get to appear. Many tracks also feature a sound closer to the heartland rock played in the Heartbreakers, such as “Angel of Mercy” and “Innocent Man” and succeed as feel-good breezy songs that still have grit and muscle in their tone. I was even digging some 60s-inspired country songs that intermittently appeared, such as “Hell or High Water” and “My Old Friends”. Both provide enough changes in instrumentation (through a string section, harmonica, horns, and Americana staple steel pedal guitar) to work just as well as the more conventional rock songs. While Campbell’s age can show in some of his singing, it’s always off-put by the love and enthusiasm always shown for his work. The vocals are also helped by guest stars on the album, such as contemporary country star Chris Stapleton, fellow heartbreaker Benmont Tench, and Gen-X/boomer music maestros like Graham Nash and Lucinda Williams.
Again, some of the album can depend on your own feelings for classic rock and you may be more inclined just to relisten to Full Moon Fever instead. But even as an act that prides itself on older musicians and styles, Vagabonds, Virgins, & Misfits is an effortlessly enjoyable ride that’s built on a strong love for rock music.
As someone who’s been studying up in the DMV (shout-out George Mason!), I’ve been slightly aware of MasVusi, an active drag performer in the area. She’s certainly a remarkable figure in both her performances and trans activism, and when I heard she was releasing an EP, I knew it would be something truly interesting. Despite pride month having come and gone, it’s still critical to shed light on new releases by queer artists absolutely worth your time, and MasVusi’s debut EP i hope you like it and is a shining example of such.
The EP has been in the works for two years, with MasVusi describing it as a “true story of love, loss, and a coming of age where queer young people must choose between their own safety or the presence of their loved ones.” The songs are implied to be autobiographical in some ways, which makes the release more intriguing given it’s already quite confessional and honest, even without the prior context. The music of the EP contrasts the moodiness of the lyrics by mainly being an eclectic blend of several eras of dance music (likely also chosen because the genre is a staple in queer/drag culture). Musically, I spotted influences from flashy 70s disco (“Chaser ‘69”), early 80s synthpop/Italo-disco (“(the) Night Shift”), and modern EDM (“t4t”) throughout the record. Though that’s assuming those aesthetic/stylistic references were intentional and I’m not just being a massive nerd, anyway.
Immediately, the opener and lead single “Closet Blues” caught my attention with a thumping dance beat and a squelchy, groovy bass line. It’s a fun opener, and the lyrics set up the themes of late-night romance (and eventual heartbreak) in a way that still complements the funk. My favorite song from the EP was definitely “(the) Night Shift”, which really impressed me with its production. It has these dreamy and lush 80s-inspired synths, and the whole track just sounds gorgeous. I absolutely must point out MasVusi’s vocal performance because while I think the opener’s mixing could bury her voice, she really comes alive in this song specifically. She has great vocal range, and her voice can have a glammy dramatic quality that really soars during the more emotional, longing moments of the record.
The next song and second single “Chaser ‘69” (featuring fellow DMV-drag artist Queenie Iman Glamazon) continues in this throwback direction by incorporating synthesized strings and a four-on-the-floor beat. It’s intentionally campy to achieve the vintage 70s disco flavor the song is going for, which is reminiscent of Donna Summer or ABBA, and again succeeds because of the vocals and production. After that comes the most vulnerable song on the record, “Momma, I”. Interspersed throughout the track is a recording of the inside of a DC metro station, which makes the lyrics and entire EP seem more real and personal. This is because the audio juxtaposes against MasVusi singing earnestly at her most desolate and bleak, with the music styled in a jazzy piano ballad to match the tone. The lyrics of the middle three songs are the most downbeat, focusing on yearning, financial hardships, and loneliness, respectively.
Fortunately, the EP ends on a positive note with “t4t”, a fast-paced contemporary rave song. I believe the lyrics show MasVusi found her own happiness with the local drag/club scene she’s currently involved in, a sentiment that wraps up the EP nicely. As a debut release, i hope you like it (which, yes, I did) is bold and revealing while still being quite danceable and engaging, and it shows that MasVusi is a performer with something to say.
Talking Heads is easily my favorite band. They were the first band that really got me into being a massive music geek, and I can’t imagine where I’d be today without them. So, when I heard A24 was planning a large-scale tribute album of Talking Heads’ iconic Stop Making Sense concert film with a different artist covering each song, I got excited but also quite cautious. I loved the band was getting more exposure to new audiences, but who would A24 pick to cover each song? Would they choose artists that honor Talking Heads’ material but still do their own spin on it to keep it fresh?
I’ll go out and say immediately that many of the musicians featured on the album aren’t necessarily ones that would be on my shortlist for a covers album, but that’s not at all a bad thing. Part of Talking Heads’ appeal is the way they respected and performed countless music styles—sometimes multiple at once. They created a unique sound of punk, funk, dance, and art rock and still had room for inspirations from world music or hip-hop made them so forward-thinking. Choosing artists of a variety of styles complements the multicultural palette Talking Heads had worked with.
(Okay, but if I had to choose who I’d want on the album, I’d choose LCD Soundsystem, St. Vincent, HAIM, and a more contemporary post-punk band like Squid or black midi… I can dream.)
However, there was still another big concern I had with the announcement: it was a covers album. A known, respected artist doing a cover of a song is a tricky balancing act. You must honor the source material, but not too close to where it just sounds like you’re doing karaoke. But, if you divert from the original too much and go somewhere too new, it makes your cover just seem like a pointless exercise and you won’t make fans of the original happy. It’s difficult, but it’s totally possible to accomplish this mix.
With that said, the easy standouts of the album were the ones that got this balancing act down the best. Paramore’s cover of “Burning Down the House” kills with Hayley Williams’ stage presence and irresistible vocal performance, and “Crosseyed and Painless” done by Chicano Batman and Money Mark captures the original’s relentless, nonstop energy. It’s hard to recapture the feeling of such a soulful, heartwarming song, but the version of “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” by BADBADNOTGOOD and Norah Jones gets damn close. I’m a fan of the former’s lush 70s soul inspirations and using that with Jones’ comforting presence just makes their cover feel like a warm hug in all the same ways the original did. And, if Talking Heads’ cover of “Take Me to the River” equally combined them with Al Green, then Lorde’s cover of the same song is a satisfying blend of both her sound and Talking Heads’.
Some of the other covers closer to the originals can depend on your tastes. I liked The National’s version of “Heaven” which works well with their atmospheric indie folk sound, and quite like some of Aaron Dessner’s produced work for that one super famous rich white and blonde woman who I won’t name*. (*Forgive me, Meredith.) The Linda Lindas and girl in red do acceptable versions of “Found a Job” and “Girlfriend is Better” respectively without changing much, and I enjoyed seeing an African group represented on the album through highlife band The Cavemen’s version of “What a Day That Was”.
The problem with many other covers is that they’re too different from the originals, and it makes them difficult to judge. I love “Psycho Killer” and I’m fine with Miley Cyrus covering it, but why do it as a Lady Gaga-style EDM song? “Thank You for Sending Me an Angel” isn’t one of my favorite Talking Heads songs, yet it’s hard to get behind Blondshell doing a slow burn grunge version of it (albeit with a pretty rad guitar solo at the end). Then there’s some of the out-there covers like DJ Tunez performing “Life During Wartime” as an afrobeats-inspired trap song or Kevin Abstract going as far away from “Once in a Lifetime” as possible.
None of these songs are necessarily bad in terms of their sound or how they changed the originals, but they’re hard to appreciate in contrast to the other songs that try hard to honor the spirit of the originals. It’s not to say some covers work despite being too close to the originals (i.e. Teezo Touchdown’s “Making Flippy Floppy” or Toro y Moi’s “Genius of Love”), but perhaps the album could have functioned better with more direction as opposed to letting the artists run completely free.
Everyone’s Getting Involved isn’t bad, despite what some more closed-minded Talking Heads fans may say. However, it’s difficult to appreciate based on how different each artist approaches the original material. It has enough good covers to make the experience worthwhile, even if it may also leave you scratching your head at points. Still, nothing here stains Talking Heads’ enduring legacy as one of the best bands of its time.
Brooklyn’s own indie rock band Razor Braids just released Big Wave, their sophomore LP after 2021’s “I Could Cry If You Want Me To”. The new album is of a concept record about the timeline of going through a breakup, and lyrically it’s very personal. It goes into the narrator’s (which could be any of the members of the band, or multiple writing from shared experiences) feelings about their insecurities, self-doubts, and feelings of anguish within themselves. The lyrics are one of the strong points of the band, being clear, relatable, and easy to identify with as a listener.
Musically, the band’s style has its inspirations in 90s indie and alternative rock. There are many obvious comparisons like the lo-fi sound of Liz Phair, some Mazzy Star-style touches of psychedelia, as well as heavy grungy guitars that occasionally pop up. The production and guitar work on the album is consistently good, with a hazy but dreamy atmosphere composing many of the songs. Lead vocalist Hollye Bynum gives a lot of great performances throughout, showing her singing as more confident than the band’s earlier singles like “Nashville”. The backing vocals (contributed by rhythm guitarist Jillian Karande) are just as strong, though some of the best sounding parts of the album were when both vocalists harmonized, like on “B26” and “Windy Gap”. It’s an element of the band’s sound that I wish they used more.
My favorite track is the lead single, “She”, which is an upbeat pop-rock song that easily has the breeziest and most danceable groove on the album (with the drums provided by former member Sid Nichols). The band’s irresistible energy and chemistry here shines through, accentuated by brief giggles by the band as the song closes. However, while “She” is a great single, it differs a bit from the rest of the album in terms of its accessibility and focus on a pop chorus. Not that this is a bad thing, as mellow and downbeat songs like “It Goes Quiet” and the title track are still strong because of the earnest performances and lyrics, and especially from the lush guitars (from lead guitarist Janie Peacock) in the second half of the latter.
Big Wave is mostly a storytelling album rather than one that’s song driven. There’re points where the tracks can feel more about expressing emotions rather than structure and rhythm. This is most apparent on “JR”, which seems to explode with intensity as a musical emotional breakdown in the second half, as psychedelic guitars bury the vocals before they come crashing down on themselves. The vulnerability given from Bynum’s performances helps make this seem rawer and more effective.
All the songs are good, and the album is easy to recommend to fans of modern indie rock that are more into lyrically driven music. It’s not perfect, as I think it could’ve used another good hook or two and better pacing. Still, the album ends on a bittersweet but hopeful note on “There’s No Sound”, and I think the band still has a lot of talent and potential to build on based on the more promising parts of the album.
Big Wave may end up just being a steppingstone for a band that’s still evolving, but it’s captivating enough to look deeper into it.
Niall Connolly has never shied away from his own artistry. In listening to his repertoire you’re unlikely to sense reluctance. Instead, the folk singer rushes headlong into his music, laying his soul bare for the world to witness. “In this house, if you wanna cry, you can cry,” he sings on his latest album, The Patience of Trees, out June 2. And with a shuddering breath, we believe him.
The Irish-born troubadour has been a steady presence in the New York City folk scene, telling his musical stories across the din of nondescript bars and Manhattan’s broad stages alike. At every Connolly gig audiences are ushered into his world of unflinching honesty and disarming resonance. Whether listening to him live or on recording, the listener is wrapped in a strange combination of isolation and warmth, a mix that leaves a profound effect: one of having been held and lonely at the same time. This is Connolly’s unique ability to transform his art into something capable of providing tangible comfort.
The album’s first single, “We Don’t Have to Talk About It”, approaches the topic of self-harm in this same manner. “I know you get tempted by the third rail late at night,” he sings, acknowledging and stripping the power away from one’s demons at the same time. The latest single, “It’s a Beautiful Life,” gives an unrelenting perspective of the struggles many of us endure and, ultimately, the love that attempts to pull us through. The song evokes the painful journey through mental health and offers a unique perspective of the collective’s ability to triumph by giving voice to our experiences.
“Out of the Light” feels like an offering at the altar of Leonard Cohen’s emotional legacy. Thoughtful and serene but also spare in its hints of loneliness as he observes “every kind of messy road that leads to love.” Similarly, “Orchids at the Supermarket” haunts like a Nick Drake ballad, making beauty out of brokenness. Yet despite the gentle presence of such ghosts, the presence of Connolly’s emotionality makes each song the kind of experience that only he can create.
The Patience of Trees is enriched by the presence of Connolly’s friends and collaborators, including Mick Flannery, Anna Tivel, E.W. Harris, Javier Mas, and Warren Malone. The arrangements of each track serve as an echo of their lyrical power, emphasizing the story at the center of each song. Expansively, the songs stretch out across the album to create a rich journey full of remarkable souls and powerful experiences. At once demanding and exquisitely comforting, The Patience of Trees takes us into our own depths and offers us solace.
“The clouds were forming question marks, like the sky was doubting me,” he sings in “A Cloud on the Summer Sun”. “I’ve got every right to be here, as much as everyone.” While his songs take us into the caverns of human struggle, likely to cause the sharp, stabbing breath of resonance as the days, weeks, years of tamping down our emotions burst to the surface, the underlying tenet of Connolly’s work is always hope. Aggressive fucking hope. No longer the lame figment to punk theology. His words and his music welcome us into a world where hope and kindness are the bravest of things. In his house, if we wanna cry, we can cry, but ultimately we will heal.
Folk-led, genre-blending musician Mike Pope has, arguably, been one of Southern California’s best-kept secrets for years. He has certainly shared his talents by making the rounds at venues around San Diego, but it took some time before local record label Blind Owl could get him into a studio. There, he had so much material to work with that this week he released not only his debut album Songs For People (High & Low), but a bonus sophomore album titled Ripening (Ain’t It Strange).
Songs For People (High & Low) is a more self-reflective album, dancing beautifully through the speakers with its haunting melodies, striking lyrics, and captivating musicianship. From the very first lines of literal self-reflective first track “Mirror,” through the slightly quicker pace of “Steeped Cracked Rocks” and into the meandering “Teach To Sow,” the listener is transported to a slower, quieter neck of the woods. The album itself continues at a beautiful, calm clip, the compositions as though the music is physically leading us into autumn nights with friends and family.
If you are looking for a particularly complex bit of picking, “St. Augustine” will breathe life into that craving. And while the 11-track album provides a particularly pleasant audible journey, taking the time to listen to “Maryanne,” “Maryanne (Again),” and “Maryanne (Again and Again)” will light a special fire in your heart.
Dropping into the second album Ripening (Ain’t It Strange), you can tell that what’s to come will be equally pleasing. The heavier instrumentals and incorporation of more rock-focused compositions make for a completely different soundscape. While we were absolutely delighted by the percussion in the vocal-less second track “Homunculus,” the fuzzier sound to “My Spirit Orbits” makes it the perfect track to bop to on vinyl with the windows open, autumn breeze flowing through.
Ripening feels, at its core, a little edgier, but still carries a similar warmth to its sister album, stirring energy and acute want for community leading into the colder months. Colder months if you, for instance, live anywhere BUT perpetually 70-something degree San Diego.
Take some time to play in the soundscape of both albums. Now that Mike Pope has found his way out of the San Diego-specific woodwork, we’d love to maintain a mainline to his work worldwide. If ever there were an opportunity to support and encourage an artist to head back into the studio sometime soon, this is it.
Al Olender is a songstress from upstate New York, with a knack for unraveling our biggest fears and emotions in her own words. As recent years have forced her to get to know herself on a deeper level, her music stages itself as borderline therapy for those of us who are muscling through tough times as well. Her first full length–aptly titled Easy Crier–is out now, and we implore you to experience it with your own ears.
“All I Do is Watch TV” has a title we can all get behind after being locked away during a pandemic, but the song itself is so unimaginably magnetic, and such a beautiful way to open this initial full-length of hers. The song itself is about dealing with the loss of a loved one, found in lines like “I read a book on grief, it told me to lay in bed.” Second track “Keith”–named after her older brother, who was lost too soon–is a testament to a life gone awry. Incredibly specific, yet viscerally relatable. She continues in this pattern with the delicate “Liar Liar,” which transports you to these moments and this intense feeling of melancholy.
“Djouliet” picks the pace up a bit, with notably light piano that makes the track, quite honestly, perfect for the summer months. The title track is infinitely relatable, as Olender discusses her experiences as though they are fleeting moments, passing her by on a screen. Her detachment–even during the pleasant memories–is incredibly notable, especially for those who have experienced any level of depression in their lives. And yet, she sings it all with an ethereal disposition, as though it hasn’t affected her at all.
But that is, perhaps, Oldender’s greatest superpower, as revealed throughout all ten tracks of this release. Her beautiful vocals feel untouched by any negativity, a slight release from the chokehold of seriousness that has seemed to enshrine us these past few months especially. And yet the subject matter is so much more complex. “Forget Your Number” is bittersweet and a bit vengeful, and we’re absolutely in love with it. “Neptune Pool” and “Minnesota Waltz” follow suit, employing silence between the notes to encourage a more emotional pull. “The Age” picks the pace up and layers in more instruments alongside boosted optimism. It serves as a quick one-two punch to get your heart rate up, almost blindsiding you with the return to delicacy in the final track “Mean.”
Keep up with Al Olender and her endearing music here.
A Mix for the End of the World pt. 1, the newest LP by the Provo, UT-based band The National Parks, is set for release on October 8. The eight-song collection “…was inspired by love and life, and chronicles the fear, joy, uncertainty, and peace that life might look like at the end of the world.”
A Mix for the End of the World pt. 1 is an album that you will want to hear again and again. I would recommend listening to it from beginning to end, at least the first time out. The first piece, “At the End”, serves as a short (52 seconds) introduction to the music coming next. They have incorporated the same device with “Continuum” – a 41-second interlude leading to the end of the album. Both allow your ears to adjust to the next music.
My two favorite songs on the release, “Headlights” and “Dizzy”, showcase the very lyrics, tunes, and harmonies that have made The National Parks a band that has developed a strong national following.
The National Parks will finish 2021 with a 15 city tour in support of Mat Kearney.
