The Best of Q2 2023
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Even though we’re halfway through, 2023 has been a hard year to define. As news cycles speed up, discourse spins out, and “content” mounts faster than anyone can realistically engage with it, staying up-to-date on new music can feel overwhelming. That’s where we come in.
Our team of passionate freaks writers are the types of people to comb through new releases every Friday in search of their next obsession. We have playlists and last.fm charts and Topsters and rankings. We have albums we love that we want you to love too, and that’s what this article is for. Just as we did back in April, we will round up our favorite albums and EPs of the last few months so you can see what we’ve been obsessing over lately. Hope you find something new to obsess over.
billy woods, Kenny Segal - Maps
Backwoodz Studioz
To describe billy woods’s quasi-concept album as “all over the place” might initially come off as an insult, but I mean it in the most complimentary and, on some levels, literal way possible. Part-travel diary, part-anthropological exploration, Maps just might be woods’s most accessible yet ambitious work to date. “No Reservations, walked in like Bourdain,” he boasts on “The Layover,” shouting out the late celebrity chef and documentarian and nodding to how both Bourdain and woods himself view travel as an immersive practice. In the same track, woods’ trip to California isn’t a vacation– it’s a chance to convene with the past, complete with lyrical dues paid to both LL Cool J and the Black Panther Party. “Babylon By Bus” rolls out personal and world history on one long, non-linear timeline, deftly hopping from the 2011 NBA Championship to the Russian Revolution to 9/11 to the passing of woods’ grandmother. “Year Zero” pulls back the spatial and temporal lens even further, chronicling the dawn of man to the decay of the present in just a few bars (“Apes stood and walked into the future / March of progress end hunchbacked in front the computer / Sooner or later it’s gon’ be two unrelated active shooters / Same place, same time, great minds”). While the vastness of woods’ pen game on Maps is pretty sublime, some of his most striking moments are when he gets down to the small-scale specificities, particularly on the record’s back half– “NYC Tapwater” is the bittersweet comedown from life on tour, the comforts of his home city are inextricable from the past traumas it bears witness to and constantly under the threat of being paved over by the continuous march of gentrification; on “As The Crow Flies,” the homecoming narrative concludes with a scene of woods and his son, a reckoning with the responsibilities of fatherhood and the tandem joys and fears that come with it (“I’m at the park with the baby on the swings / When it hits me crazy, anything at all could happen to him”). billy woods can fit a whole world into a record, and it’s a blessing that we get to watch it spin.
– Grace Robins-Somerville
Bully – Lucky For You
Sub Pop Records
Based solely on 2020’s SUGAREGG, I already knew I’d love whatever Bully did next. What I didn’t expect was a raucous half-hour of pitch-perfect 2000s alt-rock featuring some of the most energetic hooks I’ve heard all year. First, she reeled me in with a Soccer Mommy-assisted lead single, then she hit us with the sunny “Days Move Slow” and followed that with the fuckup anthem “Hard to Love.” One by one, each single surpassed the previous, all culminating in Lucky For You, an album that captures the boundless exuberance of the last day of school. Much like Momma, PONY, or Charly Bliss, Bully’s Alicia Bognanno doesn’t shy away from a realistic portrayal of herself. She’s kind of a loser, she has fucked up, and she owns all that. Turns out putting that kind of honesty to fuzzy power chords and raspy choruses makes them feel all the more triumphant.
– Taylor Grimes
Clearbody – Bend Into a Blur
Self-Released
If you were to distill my love for shoegaze into just a handful of styles, you’d likely wind up with the collection of five songs that make up Bend Into a Blur. You’ve got clear love for giants of the genre like Hum and Nothing alongside screamy doom shit and high-energy bops, all of which work into the genre from different angles for a release that’s succinct and singular. Tracks like “This Can’t Leave Us” sink their hooks into you by building up to their title in the most anguishing but beautiful ways; meanwhile, “Cordelia” feels tailor-made for windows-down summer drives and late-nite smoke sessions alike. For a genre that can so easily feel stale and repetitious, Clearbody manage to make the “gaze” suffix feel exciting, diverse, and exploratory.
– Taylor Grimes
Read our review of “Cordelia” here.
Cory Hanson – Western Cum
Drag City Inc.
Let’s get it out of the way up top: Western Cum is a very funny name. The title for Cory Hanson’s third album is a signal flare that he doesn’t take this too seriously, but the music tells a different story. Hanson’s latest record follows a similar format to 2021’s Pale Horse Rider (one of our favorites of that year), featuring a batch of a half-dozen barn burners and one 10-minute psychedelic expedition placed at the penultimate spot on the tracklist. Western Cum also sees Hanson cranking up the Zeppelin worship tenfold for classic rock songs that range in scale from that of a housefly to a haunted ghost ship. As these desert mirages materialize and pass by the listener, it’s hard not to get swept up in the majesty of it all.
– Taylor Grimes
Easy Beach – Easy Beach
We’re Trying Records & Sleepy Clown Records
To some degree, people are right to groan about emo music. You’re right to roll your eyes at silly song titles, formulaic tapping, and uninspired singing, but at the same time, you gotta hand it to ‘em when people in this genre do something right, and Easy Beach’s self-titled record is emo done right. For an album that dropped on 4/20 and has song titles like “Elliott Spliff” and “Everbong,” it might seem easy to assume Easy Beach is “weedmo,” but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Easy Beach may be an emo band, and they may even smoke weed, but their music is actually closer to groups like Ovlov, LVL UP, or Truth Club than Mom Jeans and Prince Daddy. In just 23 minutes, this band constructs a thrashy style of punk rock that pummels you like a brick to the face… if being pummelled by a brick to the face was somehow catchy. There’s still a little bit of emo guitar tapping, but overall, this band seems much more concerned with making shreddy punk music fit for diving headfirst into the pit. Easy Beach is jam-packed with rambunctious energy and shout-along bangers with a well-placed interlude or two to help you catch your breath. If sweat isn’t dripping from your pores by the time the rapturous horns of “Sleep” roll around, then you’re listening wrong.
– Taylor Grimes
EXIT ELECTRONICS – BELIEVE ANYTHING, BELIEVE EVERYTHING
Avalanche
Okay, so teeeeechnically, this album was released about a week before our Q1 list went up. But I didn’t hear it until the beginning of June, so I’m including it here. I wanted to give a full-length review on the new Godflesh album PURGE (which rips), but the time didn’t work in my favor. Instead, I’m here to shout out the new EXIT ELECTRONICS album, one of the many monikers and side projects of Godflesh mastermind Justin K. Broadrick. BELIEVE ANYTHING is 45 minutes of obnoxious, distorted, bass-heavy music that is so in my lane, it’s surprising I didn’t hear it until after I recorded my last album of similar material. Broadrick has been an electronic and industrial maestro since the late ‘80s between Godflesh, Techno Animal, and Jesu, just to name a few. This is easily some of the most advanced and intense music he’s ever done; it’s like a burned CD of 128kbps Limewire MP3s skipping in the player of a 2003 Pontiac Sunfire. I assure you that’s a compliment.
— Logan Archer Mounts
Feeble Little Horse – Girl with Fish
Saddle Creek
The first time I listened to Girl with Fish was idyllic… not necessarily befitting to the music, but memorable nonetheless. It had been a bright summer day here in Portland, but by the evening, a batch of clouds had rolled in, making for a broody, overcast mood that marked the end to a weeks-long period of perfectly sunny weather. It was about 8:30 and still bright out despite the grey clouds now populating the sky. I decided to go for a walk to expend the rest of my energy and enjoy the last little bit of light we had left. By the time I had reached a nearby park, the clouds had started to spit ever so lightly, raining just enough to feel a cooling droplet every few seconds but not enough to need a jacket or an umbrella. I looked at my phone and realized it was just past 9 pm, meaning all the Friday new releases were now available to listen to here on the west coast. I navigated straight to Feeble Little Horse’s artist page and pressed play on their sophomore LP, which I had been anticipating for the better part of the year. As I walked around this park and nearby neighborhoods soundtracked by the off-kilter rock tunes, I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of rain on hot pavement, a sense I hadn’t experienced much in my previous home of Denver. As the freaky, horny, warbly songs played out, I found myself firmly in the present. I didn’t know what was coming next in this album or my life, and for 26 minutes and 6 seconds, I found that incredibly freeing.
– Taylor Grimes
Frog Legs – It’s Been a Hard Year
Rabbit Snail Records
I’ve been listening to punk rock for a really, really, really long time. So long, in fact, that I have kind of a complex relationship to it– although punk is great, I often can’t find myself reaching for my Misfits records when it comes time to kick back with a beer and decompress. It’s just too… one-note these days. The novelty of sonic rebellion has long worn off, and only the truly time-tested punk music can make it through to my daily rotation of knotty emo-core, crusty d-beat and hardcore, stripped-back folk music, densely arranged power pop, and soaring jam-band indebted indie rock. All that changed two years ago when I was introduced to Frog Legs, a band of folk-punk rookies with bright eyes and big attitudes led by singer/bassist/songwriter Nano Siegert-Wilkinson.
Their first EP was straight-up folk punk in the best way– sugary sweet punk rippers played with acoustic instruments at blistering tempos. On It’s Been a Hard Year, though, her ambitions spread beyond the realm of traditional folk-punk and bloom into enormous Springsteen singalong C-sections (“Motorcycle!”), lackadaisical power pop jams (“The Worst McDonalds Ever (Pts. 1 & 2)”), propulsive and neurotic rock (“Fear and Loathing in South Oakland”), and even tender bluegrass ballads (“Livestock” and “Moth Song”). Despite these musical departures from the raspy acoustic punk we’ve all come to know and meme, it’s impossible to forget that this is a Folk Punk Album. Every song oozes directionless rage and exhaustion via grisly and misanthropic metaphor (“It will bleed me til I'm dry / make a leather coach bag out of my hide”) or an unflinching, almost impolite directness (“Sometimes bad things happen just because”). It’s an emotionally arresting piece of art that will define the genre for years and might even succeed at Siegert-Wilkinson’s oft-stated goal of “bringing folk punk back to Pittsburgh, baby.”
– Mikey Montoni
Frozen Soul – Glacial Domination
Century Media
Remember that one time Texas got too cold? Fort Worth’s iciest band, Frozen Soul, makes sure you’ll never forget. Glacial Domination is an avalanche-caliber crushing death metal LP that stays frozen on repeat. With features from Dying Fetus’ John Gallagher, Trivium’s Matt Heafy, and electro-metal duo GosT, the band delivers one anthemic, bicep-flexing, frost-biting track after another. This group may as well have called themselves something like Cold Thrower or Snowbituary.
— Logan Archer Mounts
Greg Mendez – Greg Mendez
For about a month, I listened to Greg Mendez’s self-titled record and couldn’t shake the phrase “Diet Alex G.” That’s a misnomer for a couple of reasons, sure Mendez’s voice sounds shockingly similar at times, but “diet” implies that it’s somehow lesser. In reality, Greg Mendez is a precious and careful folk album that weaves together nine deeply intricate tales into a compact 23-minute package. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the new albums from Ther and Infinity Crush, Mendez has created an honest and truly beautiful album that has rightfully placed him at the forefront of an already bustling Philadelphia music scene. With songs as brilliant as “Maria” in his holster, it’s only a matter of time before he ascends the rungs of the indie rock world into a strata all his own.
– Taylor Grimes
HMLTD – The Worm
Lucky Number
England hits another post-punk home run with the latest album from HMLTD (fka Happy Meal Ltd., ceased and desisted for obvious reasons). The Worm is an experimental, imperialistic, sci-fi concept record that begs one question: “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” At least, in this case, the worm is taking over an apocalyptic London like the plague, and the album tells the story of the townspeople’s experiences. It’s a danceable, oddball record that showcases the band at their strongest. Fans of Black Country New Road, King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard, or Squid should be sure to take note of this one. And not just because lizards and squids are in the worm family (follow-up: I do not know this to be true).
— Logan Archer Mounts
Home Is Where – the whaler
There are a ton of dumb, memey ways one could talk about the whaler. From the 9/11 song to the Neutral Milk Hotel worship and possible Weezer homage, this record sometimes feels tailor-made to set up RYM weirdos to craft their most pithy one-liners, and yet… the whaler persists. The sophomore album from fifth-wave emo’s resident folk punk freaks is wildly inventive, sprawling, and probing in a way that makes it impossible to summarize in a single paragraph. Essentially a loose concept album about “getting used to things getting worse,” each song flows into the next while still retaining a circular life of its own. Each song is staggeringly diverse in instrumentation and inspiration, seamlessly incorporating sounds from midwest emo and folk to alt-country and post-hardcore. The lyrics are both urgent and poetic, begging the listener not just to scream along, but to really listen and understand. Even as things get worse, we can thank Home Is Where for being here and creating art that makes things just a little better.
– Taylor Grimes
Hot Mulligan – Why Would I Watch
Wax Bodega
Yes, Hot Mulligan are yelpy, yes, they’re emo as fuck, and yes, they have songs with names like “Cock Party 2 (Better Than The First).” It’s almost like they’re challenging you not to take them seriously. Despite the seemingly infinite number of marks against them, the Michigan-based Post-Emo band makes music that exceeds any surface-level turn-offs. Following an excellent 2020 release that deflated like so many of the albums from that year, they kept the momentum (and spirits) up with a series of acoustic releases, EPs, covers, and one-off singles, but Why Would I Watch is the first proper full-length from the band in three years, and it’s a front-to-back ripper. I’ll save you any more song titles, but the band’s fourth LP is song after song of frantic outpourings, complete with intricate guitar work, group singalongs, and relatable lamentations.
– Taylor Grimes
Indigo De Souza – All of This Will End
Saddle Creek
Indigo De Souza is a force of nature. The Asheville-based singer-songwriter is a confluence of immensely relatable sentiments, catchy choruses, and feelings that sweep through each song like a hurricane. Whether she’s reinforcing the importance of nature, venting about a shitty partner, or reflecting on the knowledge that comes with age, Indigo De Souza manages to make it all fit seamlessly within her vibrant, technicolor umbrella. There are crunchy shoegaze riffs, boppy dance numbers, and touches of twang that make each song feel distinct from the others surrounding it. One of those albums where any track feels like it could have served as a single, and I’m left to marvel at how many great ideas can be packed into one LP.
– Taylor Grimes
Read our review of All of This Will End here.
Innerlove. – Roscoe
Refresh Records
While everyone else was listening to, thinking about, commentating on, and participating in the “Pinegrove Shuffle,” I was listening to Roscoe. Much like Quinn Cicala and Ground Swell, Innerlove is a band directly descended from the Emo Kid to Alt-Country Pipeline. Underneath the twang and scent of alcohol, There’s an apparent reverence for the lineage of country music built atop a sturdy understanding of indie rock fundamentals. Every once in a while, a little bit of emo sensibility peeks through, and in that way, it’s a beautiful intersection of where I find my tastes midway through 2023.
– Taylor Grimes
Jess Williamson – Time Ain’t Accidental
Mexican Summer
If you’ve ever been to Far West Texas, you’ll get why Time Ain’t Accidental is Marfa-coded: steel guitar and highway motifs scream “Wild West,” while Williamson’s coy voice and eclectic percussion choices keep these songs distinctly artsy. However, unlike many Angelenos who descend upon the quintessential artsy Wild West town, Williamson is originally from Texas, and she successfully cashes in on that authenticity in her most country-tinged offering to date. In Time Ain’t Accidental, she documents her extensive time living and loving in Marfa, telling the concurrent stories of an old love (like in “Stampede”) and a new one (like in the title track). Alongside thrilling tales of a poolside rendezvous and driving through a desert storm, she lays lyrical flowers on the grave of a former longtime love. It’s quite the feat, paying tribute to both relationships without one discrediting the other, but Williamson accomplishes it with grace. She reckons with the ruthless fallout of modern dating without ever losing her grip on love’s timeless potential, wide as the Texas sky. Out in Marfa, everything—the brutal and the beautiful—comes to light if you linger long enough.
– Katie Wojciechowski
Kara Jackson – Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?
September
Kara Jackson may or may not be the singer-songwriter that the world asked for in the year of our Lord 2023, but there’s no doubt she’s the one we need. Her earthy contralto voice weaves a spell over meandering chords until all of a sudden, the whole thing is basically jazz, and you’d hardly noticed—like the album’s second track, “no fun/party.” While I’d never say her music “sounds like” Joni Mitchell, Mitchell is the only fair, clear comparison I can think to make in terms of a jazz influence on what are essentially folk songs. Why Does The Earth… doesn’t waste a note, from the spare, unnerving “curtains” to the orchestral, heartbreaking title track that wrestles with the impossible question of loss. Some of Jackson’s songs, like “dickhead blues,” move a little slow, but stay with them; every track on this album offers unexpected gems in the form of vocal feats, twisting melodies, and razor-sharp wit. I honestly cannot believe this is her debut album!
– Katie Wojciechowski
Kerosene Heights – Southeast of Somewhere
No Sleep Records
On paper, there’s nothing extravagant about the debut album from Kerosene Heights; there’s no deep theme, intricate concept, or overarching message. Instead, what you get is a collection of 11 rippers that gnash, gnarl, and shred through waves of emo insecurities with a propulsive pop-punk energy. The record starts off with a half-speed crabcore bob, but ignites when lead singer Chance Smith barks, “1, 2, 3, GO!” in a moment that’s sure to summon a pit at every Kerosene Heights show until the end of time. Over the course of the record’s 35-minute runtime, we come to learn that Smith is their own worst enemy as they recount previous instances where they jumped too fast into romance, ruined someone’s birthday, or generally acted like a selfish dick. As the lyrics so eloquently put it on the second song, “I am the worst thing to happen to me.” While that all might sound like a bummer, what’s remarkable is how catchy Kerosene Heights manages to make these confessionals sound. The band’s peppy instrumentals keep the energy level from ever dipping below that of a sugar-free Red Bull. A fast, fun, and boisterous release that I keep coming back to like a bowl of candy.
– Taylor Grimes
Lana Del Rey - Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd?
Interscope
Lana Del Rey seemingly has no interest in normalcy, subtlety, or doing anything in a way that isn’t larger-than-life. Because of that, artists like her are a dying breed (as she puts it herself on “Sweet”: “I’m a different kind of woman / if you want some basic bitch, go to the Beverly Center and find her”). The sprawl, the filler tracks, the seemingly out-of-place lyrics that already feel dated by the time the record comes out– these are all things that you come to expect with each Lana album release cycle (and that’s not even mentioning the decade-plus fixation on her controversial career arc that has a nasty habit of overshadowing coverage of her actual music). Sometimes she’ll swing and miss, but the swings are always big. On Ocean Blvd., she’s knocked it out of the park. It’s her best work since 2019’s Normal Fucking Rockwell!, perhaps her best work, period. “A&W” alone feels like a monumental feat, an artist staring herself down and confronting her persona and the woman behind it– Where do tragic rock stars go when (thankfully) the 27 Club won’t have them? What happens to the Lolitas who get to live past thirty? Musically, “A&W” feels like the lovechild of “Hard Feelings/Loveless” by Lorde, “Nights” by Frank Ocean, and “Poor Places” by Wilco. Over its six-minute runtime, the slow-building piano ballad that time-lapses through the Three Faces of Eve culminates in a beat switch that transforms the track into a trap banger with a bratty, double-dutch hook and a mic drop-worthy kiss-off: “Your mom called, I told her you’re fucking up big time.” Grand, communal singalongs like “The Grants,” “Let The Light In,” and “Margaret” invite those nearest and dearest to Lana to sing about love in all its forms– romantic, platonic, familial –while whispery, introspective cuts like “Candy Necklace,” “Kintsugi,” and “Fishtail” show her at her most vulnerable and intimate. My personal pick for song of the summer, “Peppers,” is a stock “the sun is out, my man and I are hot as fuck, and we can’t keep our hands off each other” Lana song, and the way it seamlessly merges a trip-hoppy Tommy Genesis hook into a sample from “Wipeout” (over fourth-wall-breaking studio chatter that introduces said sample) is a stroke of genius. In short: the bitch is back and better than ever.
– Grace Robins-Somerville
Militarie Gun – Life Under the Gun
Loma Vista Recordings
Ooh ooh! (There’s no other way I could have started this write-up.) I am so happy Life Under the Gun clocks in at just over 27 minutes; I was able to listen to the album on repeat enough times to identify it as one of my favorite releases of 2023 so far. Ian Shelton (of Regional Justice Center and the podcast I Don’t Care If This Ruins My Life with Drug Church’s/Self-Defense Family’s Patrick Kindlon) grazes hardcore like a poorly aimed bullet knicks the skin. Despite Life Under the Gun’s sonic lightness, its heavy themes of honesty, lethargy, and pressure are explored through the lens of hook-ridden guitar pop. After a few mix EPs (and the perennial banger “Pressure Cooker” with co-conspirator DAZY) under the Militarie Gun moniker, Shelton reveals his knack for songwriting extends to crafting a tight album that contains depth beyond catchy songs.
– Joe Wasserman
Miya Folick – ROACH
Nettwerk Records
I fell in love with Folick’s songwriting a couple of years ago when I first paid close attention to her lyrics on the 2015 track “Talking With Strangers” in reference to a potential friendship:
And half of my brain was totally afraid
That she’d hate me, never want to see me again
And half of my brain was equally afraid
That she’d like me, wanna be my friend
It felt, and still feels, so resonant with my own experience of trying to figure out myself and other people. Her introspections on ROACH pull at the same old threads of identity, meaning, and love, but now we find her an even more whole, interesting human with almost a decade more life experience backing her musings. On most of the album’s songs, Folick’s delicate, yearning voice takes center stage in layered harmonies over feather-light beats and eclectic synths. On “Get Out of My House” and “Shortstop,” she explores the optimistic side of leaving love that no longer serves her, while “Nothing To See” and “Cockroach” alchemize angst into catharsis. My favorite moments, though, are still the ones where she tackles something big. My two favorite tracks, “Oh God” and “Cartoon Clouds,” seem diametrically opposed, but I see them as a bit of a call-and-response—the former asking, only semi-ironically, if perhaps God could provide the meaning her chaotic life needs. The latter answers that same inner void with the simple, grounded conclusion, “Doesn’t it feel good to feel good?”
– Katie Wojciechowski
Nourished by Time – Erotic Probiotic 2
Scenic Route Records
Did you hear? Disco is back, regarded more highly than ever. Unfortunately, it’s also been sanded down at the edges, a mere shell of its former bombast. Elsewhere, shards of the most recalcitrant strands of tasteless late-aughts radio rock are being fashioned into a Frankenstein’s monster of futuristic pop (your mileage may vary). The re-evaluation will not be televised; it will be served up on your Discover Weekly or your For You page. For those seeking a third way, a retro-futurist middle ground between the mawkishly tasteful and pure abrasion, look no further than Erotic Probiotic 2, a sleek dance-pop album with the melodic sensibility of Houston rap’s warbling hooks at the turn of the century. “Daddy” is a winking inversion of heartbreak and “grindset” mentality, while “Rain Water Promise” marries vaporous synths and skittering 80s drums. This is club music for the introverts, emo for the club kids. It’s vulnerable, funky, lush, and, above all, too weird to fade entirely into the background.
– Jason Sloan
Superviolet – Infinite Spring
Lame-O Records
Confession time: I was never a Sidekicks Guy. Maybe I was just a few years too young, maybe if I’d listened to more Iron Chic in high school I would have gotten there, but regardless, I showed up late to the party. Luckily through a string of excellent singles, Lame-O co-sign, and persistent Orgcore gf, I found myself eagerly anticipating Steve Ciolek’s new project Superviolet. Slightly folksier, a little prettier, and much more mature, Infinite Spring feels like a best-case scenario for what happens when you age out of a certain music scene. These songs are loving and naturalistic, concerned with memories, feelings, and human connection above all else. Songs like “Overrater” and “Blue Bower” bring the power pop energy, while tracks like “Good Ghost” and “Wave Back” manage to be some of the most touching and life-affirming pieces of music I’ve heard all year. A beautiful album that showcases an effortless artistic evolution into something entirely its own.
— Taylor Grimes
ther – a horrid whisper echoes in a palace of endless joy
Self-Released
A quietly familiar feeling bubbles up after spending just under 30 minutes listening to a horrid whisper echoes in a palace of endless joy, the second album from Philadelphia’s Heather Jones, a.k.a. ther. Perhaps an emboldened hope, a bit of dread, mixed in with the terrifying wonder of each passing day. Jones writes elegantly and broadly about the mundane, the personal, and the ethereal, shaping into an approximation of life itself. Album opener “1 kid” sets the stage for the diorama of memories and music that ensues. A lyric like “How strange to be born in a time like now / When everybody’s freaking out” grasps at a perpetual absurdity, stretched over every decade and sinking in whenever you find yourself listening. Jones’ questioning lies unanswered; silence is left to speak. There’s no way to wrap your head around the strangeness — it simply always is. a horrid whisper is reminiscent of the various works of Phil Elverum while approaching similar themes in wholly distinct ways. “big papi lassos the moon” sifts through the uncertainty of passing days and the relentless forward motion of time. It starts with David Ortiz and lands on the ambient hope of finding peace within the cosmic complications of life. Pedal steel, cello, and baritone saxophone swirl around pensive guitar melodies yet never swallow the central focus on Jones’ vocals and lyrics. ther has found a place of spectral, overwhelming beauty on a horrid whisper; a place that can’t be understood but still feels like home.
– Wes Muilenburg
Water Damage - 2 Songs
12XU
Water Damage kind of feels like the perfect name for a band that employs a lot of warped and warbly sounds in their recordings. Austin’s self-proclaimed “drone supergroup” returns for their second album, 2 Songs, and it’s not just a clever name. We’re given two album-side-length bangers that sit between kraut-, noise-, and psych-rock in their near-20-minute runtimes. Comprised of members from Black Eyes, Shit And Shine, and Swans, the band’s lo-fi journeys are as hypnotic as they are haunting, immersive as they are antagonistic, with the two “reels” being titled ‘Fuck This’ and ‘Fuck That.’ Easily one of the most exciting newer bands I’ve discovered this year.
— Logan Archer Mounts
Wednesday – Rat Saw God
Part of me feels like I barely need to sing the praises of Wednesday. The North Carolina band has spent the past few years rapidly climbing the ranks of indie rock with increasingly prolific interviews, reviews, and sold-out shows, gaining an army of fans along the way. Part of me also feels like I already said my piece on this band’s body of work with my massive Countrygaze essay from last November. Despite how much has been written about this band and their latest album, Rat Saw God is a five-star knockout of shoegaze epics, dirtbag love songs, and deep south morality tales that all coalesce into a hot and hazy collection of songs that sound unlike any other band.
– Taylor Grimes
Worry Club – All Frogs Go To Heaven
Self-released
For the longest time, I kept spinning All Frogs Go To Heaven just trying to figure out how I would even define this music. Emo? Dance? Surf? There’s a little bit of screaming on some songs, while others lean into a boppy HUNNY style of music that would have popped off on Tumblr in 2017. No matter the case, this release grabs you right out of the gate with a two-note riff that gets you in the groove and keeps you (willingly) suspended there for the remaining five tracks. Eventually, I realized the closest thing I could compare Worry Club to is Oso Oso: sunny and lightweight indie rock songs with the occasional drop of emo. Where Worry Club differs is how quickly they rev up to a full-speed throttle and how well they pair a melody with the rapid, robotic guitarwork. Ultimately, Worry Club are in a lane all their own where allowing yourself to be emotional is just as important as dancing through the pain.
– Taylor Grimes
