Cover Collector – August Browns

Design by Ryan Morrissey

I don’t know about you guys, but I love a good album art collage. One of the first things I do every Friday is head over to tapmusic.net and render a 4x4 chart of the albums I listened to most over the past week. At the end of each month, I do the same thing with a 5x5 that recaps my previous 30 days of listening. By the time December rolls around, I look forward to recapping the last twelve months with a gigantic 10x10 grid in an unwieldy encapsulation of the 100 albums that defined my year. 

Is it a little self-aggrandizing? Sure, but it’s also a fun way to see a quick snapshot of what my last week, month, or year has sounded like. At its best, this practice has led to fun conversations and solid recommendations going back and forth with friends as we bond over specific albums. Sometimes it’s that shared love over a deep pull from years gone by, other times it’s just noticing trends with a recent fave that seems like an unshakable presence week in and week out. At the very least, I suppose it’s satisfying to see a bunch of records that I feel an affinity toward lined up and embodying a specific stretch of my life. 

At some point near the tail end of last year, I conceived of a more communal way to bring this love of album collage to life. Because, sure, getting a live readout of your listening history is cool, but this is also about album art, an essential part of the experience and something us music nerds can fixate on just as much as the songs that sit beneath the cover. As such, I’m excited to welcome you to the seventh edition of Cover Collector: a monthly installation where the Swim Team discusses some of our favorite albums based on album color. For August, we’re writing about beautiful browns.


Ministry – ΚΕΦΑΛΗΞΘ

Sire Records

Ministry’s fifth studio album, alternatively titled Psalm 69 so you don’t have to decode or pronounce the original Crowleyan scribe, is the last in the band’s foundational trilogy of industrial metalworks and miraculously granted them mainstream success. Following 1988’s The Land Of Rape And Honey and 1989’s The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste (aka the heaviest album of all time), Al Jourgensen continued to push the envelope for rock and electronic music with this 1992 release that spawned timeless genre anthems like “N.W.O.” and “Just One Fix.” The record landed just four days before the band spent the rest of the Summer on the second-ever Lollapalooza tour, where they utterly crumbled stages across America, highlighting many of the unrelenting and aurally taxing compositions they had just unleashed upon the public. Its crown jewel, “Jesus Built My Hotrod,” has always been my favorite Ministry song, from the intro featuring Gibby Haynes of Butthole Surfers to the real-hotrod-speed thrashing throughout. Ministry’s return for 1996’s Filth Pig was long-awaited after the mania of Psalm 69, and while I love it for its specific harshness, it was a clear departure point from the classic records that preceded it. Psalm 69 is necessary listening from the nineties, a time when even the most extreme music on the planet could end up on a major label.

— Logan Archer Mounts


Hel Toro – Gimmick

Self-released

If you’re surprised I’m not writing about Pile, don’t worry, I sort of still am. Hel Toro is Rick Maguire’s early-aughts project, released just before Pile. It’s noisy rock and roll, lyrically cutting, with pentatonic glimmers throughout that hint at the distinct style already present in Rick’s writing. Released in 2007, Gimmick is the band’s second album, coming four years after their debut, Tabula Rasa. Ragey and brash, I consider Gimmick the perfect soundtrack to watch the zenith of late summer slowly wilt and sag towards the ochre-tinged earth. The opening track “Holes Up” grabs the listener by the collar and yanks them in, screaming lyrics straight to their face: “I don’t wanna watch you draw it out, cause I’m not that good of an artist!” Brown paper album artwork and a splatter of scribbled handwriting across the front perfectly relay the grimily textural undercurrents of this sophomore release. 

– Britta Joseph


billy woods – Aethiopes

Backwoodz Studioz

Since its April 2022 release, billy woods’ Aethiopes has been a cold comfort to my summers, especially my Augusts. I can’t pinpoint why, exactly. Maybe the timbral palette of Preservation’s beats provides the right soundtrack to the month’s sense memories: the brassy, aberrant synths of “No Hard Feelings” pierce the ear like a noon sun hits the eye, the pinging rides and dusty acoustic strings of “The Doldrums” sizzle like heat haze above pavement. Or maybe the seamless, live-mix style transitions throughout the LP mimic how days blend together in the thick fog of a late-summer malaise. 

But in revisiting the record this August for Cover Collector, another possibility stands out as I run back woods’ verse on “Christine,” in particular. Here, the producer’s sparse, eerie production also lends fitting support to the MC’s lyrical vignettes, which connect a series of haunted narratives around and in cars as weird, liminal spaces. What I find to be a more fitting image than the 1957 Plymouth Fury nodded to in the track title, though, emerges with the vocal reuse of The Wailers’ “Mr. Brown.” In the source track, a Lee Perry plate that was passed over as the instrumental for “Duppy Conqueror,” Bob Marley recounts a folktale where a ghost driving a three-wheeled coffin rides around Jamaica in search of a ‘Mr. Brown,’ unnerving folks from Mandeville to Sligoville. woods repeats the borrowed line thrice, like an incantation: but is this a curse or protection charm? I can hear it both ways, and that emotional ambivalence reads like an echo of the close-cropped Rembrandt painting that serves as the album cover.

– J. P. Cupps


Bill Callahan – What a Night!

Self-Released

Outside of Yo La Tengo, Bill Callahan might be the ideal model for a career in indie rock. The dude has been making music for almost four decades, documenting phases of his life through his plainspoken baritone voice and poetic lyrics, first as Smog and then under his own name. What a Night! is a 90-minute live album that sees an artist at the peak of his powers. The lineup features just Callahan on guitar and vocals, with his compatriot Jim White on drums. Together, these two craft entire worlds, whether it’s the 11-minute odyssey of “Riding for the Feeling,” the swaggering, chunky groove of “Cowboy,” or the rendition of “Coyotes” that spills out to nine minutes. It’s like witchcraft the way these two are able to conjure massive swells of emotion from such simple ingredients. It’s modest and cosmic, but just feels like a staggering achievement to take in. The setlist is a no-miss greatest hits that shows exactly why Callahan has been able to cultivate such a long and illustrious career. He’s a craftsman, and this record is like a finely furnished piece of upholstery – an oak armchair you can sink into that doesn’t creak or shift an iota. A sturdy entity that justifies its own existence in the most self-evident way. 

– Taylor Grimes


Oso Oso – basking in the glow

Triple Crown Records

As per a Billboard interview with Oso Oso’s founder and frontman, Jade Lilitri, the thesis of basking in the glow is, “taking in the good things, just accepting what comes with life.” Operating in an unabashed laissez-faire manner has always been the Long Island unit’s cut– all while effortlessly creating the kind of music that many bands spend their entire careers chasing. basking in the glow, released two years after the acclaimed sophomore LP, the yunahon mixtape, had immense shoes to fill. Lilitri, obviously undeterred by this, managed to level up with his 2019 release, which was also the project’s first on legendary label Triple Crown Records. 

At a time when emo as a genre had entered a definitive lull, basking in the glow proved that some bands in this scene were not condemned to the lightning-in-a-bottle effect of their first or second LP releases. While Oso Oso’s music toes the line between emo, pop-punk, and indie, it blends seamlessly to create infectious hooks where every song could legitimately be a single. basking in the glow is undoubtedly a love record at its core, with what could be interpreted as religious undertones woven throughout. This is probably most evident on “a morning song,” where Lilitri flippantly admits, “living on my knees, praying blessings crashed into me.” 

Whether it’s basking in the glow of faith, a thriving relationship, or the incandescent bulbs of a busted H&R Block marquee, Oso Oso confirms there is meaning to be found in whatever life throws at you.

– Brandon Cortez


Dikembe – Chicago Bowls 

Death Protector Collective

If you don’t already know, Chicago Bowls is an emo-DIY classic. In 2011, Dikembe made their debut with a digital-only EP, featuring song titles spoofing player names from the ‘95-’96 Chicago Bulls, one of the strongest NBA Finals teams in the history of the league. The track names are “Scottie Spliffen,” “Luc Bongley,” “Michael Jordank,” and “Tony Kukush.” Making your song titles portmanteaus of weed and sports celebrities is a strong choice, but one perfectly suited for such a strong EP. It opens and closes with a conversation from the coming-of-age sitcom Freaks and Geeks in which Jason Segel’s character is showing off his ornate drum set to the show’s main character, Lindsay Weir. He ends by imploring her to “find her [own] big, gigantic drum kit.” I’m writing this about a decade and a half removed from the EP’s release, and I feel like the world is much more complicated now. The fact that two primary components of the album look backward suggests Dikembe knows that feeling too.

About a year after the EP, the band released their first full-length album, Broad Shoulders. To give you an idea of what they were up against in 2012, here are a few other albums that came out that year: Floral Green by Title Fight, Sports by Modern Baseball, American Radass by Dads, Colourmeinkindness by Basement, Just Married by Glocca Morra, Colors by Sports, and Grow Up, Dude by You Blew It! In a year of heavy hitters, Dikembe not only holds their own but stands out as a band that was ahead of the curve, putting together an all-star lineup of tracks that epitomize the genre in under ten minutes.

– Braden Allmond

Janet Jackson – janet.

Virgin Records

In 1993, there was a case to be made that Janet Jackson would be the most talented Jackson from then on. This wouldn’t even have been a hot take at the time. Janet’s big brother Michael was entering a turbulent point in his career. The King of Pop was being dethroned as his personal life was brought under a fiery, scorching-hot microscope, combined with the public perception that his 1991 album Dangerous didn’t live up to the standard of his previous work. (Let me go on record that I personally love Dangerous – the New Jack Swing first half of that record still hits like Mike Tyson in his prime.) But you have to give credit where credit is due; little sis Janet proved to the entire world she’s a bona fide star, and the music she made on janet. is the exact reason why. If you said Janet is the most talented Jackson, you wouldn’t even have sounded like an ESPN talking head blowhard just saying things for clickbait. 

The early nineties were the time when Janet leaped out of the ginormous shadow left by her big brother. The music on janet. is a career-defining blend of neo-soul mixed with a touch of new jack swing, and just the right amount of house music. This was groundbreaking, superbly done, and incredibly horny. From the provocative album cover, steamy lyrics, and sensual music videos, Janet was taking the reins of her sexuality and entering adulthood. Looking past the horniness of it all, the album had mega hits: “That’s the Way Love Goes” was a chart-topping banger; “Any Time, Any Place” was an instant classic that hip-hop artists have sampled out the wazoo; “Because of Love” will have your body doing moves you didn’t even know you were capable of. This record not only set her apart from her own blood, but established Janet as the mood board for future generations of R&B artists. 

– David Williams


King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – Omnium Gatherum

KGLW

Omnium Gatherum is an odd bird. It's the kind of album that opens with a 20-minute sprawling environmentalist jam session before moving into… synth-pop? hip-hop? thrash metal? krautrock? bossa nova? Yeah, it's a lot to fit into one album, which is part of why this ends up being Gizz's longest album to date. Not designed as a cohesive album, it’s meant to be heard as a collection of ideas that didn't fit anywhere else. Omnium Gatherum challenges and excites by constantly taking turns that feel exciting and novel without ever slipping into being disorienting or off-putting. 

As is common for King Gizzard, the lyrics are about environmentalism, though there are some detours into less dour fare, such as in the Beastie Boys-inspired “Sadie Sorceress,” where multi-instrumentalist and singer Ambrose Kenny-Smith dons his alter ego, The Shrimpomaniac, and raps about an elderly witch. Or the easy-going “Persistence,” where frontman Stu Mackenzie uses the language of cars and motorsports to coyly talk about sex. Of course, it wouldn't be a true King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard record without at least one song about some horror with a thirst for blood, and we get that in “Predator X,” a thrash metal ripper that pays homage to Meshuggah as we see the band fully leaning into palm-muted chugging guitars in complex time signatures.

Ultimately, Omnium Gatherum comes across as a sampler platter that any newcomer to Gizz's work can approach, giving them a smorgasbord of options as they decide what flavor of Gizz they want more of. The fact that it’s also the source of many of the band’s most popular tracks is just proof of the power of Gizz.

– Noëlle Midnight


Farewell Continental – ¡Hey, Hey Pioneers!

Paper + Plastick

There’s nothing quite like the surprise and elation when you find out one of your favorite bands has a side project you knew nothing about. Whether you’re a fan of alternative side projects such as The Postal Service (Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie), The Prize Fighter Inferno (Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria), or City and Colour (Dallas Green of Alexisonfire), learning about your favorite artists’ expanded universes always felt like a reward in the fledgling days of the internet. My love for Motion City Soundtrack is deep and well-documented at this point, but I spend significantly less time singing the praises of singer Justin Courtney Pierre’s short-lived second band, Farewell Continental.

JCP put together ¡Hey, Hey Pioneers! in between the release of Motion City Soundtrack’s fourth and fifth albums, and his desire to create something different really shines across this oddball one-off. Back-to-back tracks “The Greatest of All Time (How You Feelin’ Now?)” and “Dagger, Dagger: Terror, Terror” are my go-to pulls from this album and succinctly showcase everything I love about the unfortunately standalone LP. You still get JCP’s unmistakable vocals and inherent knack for pop rock, but the addition of Kari Gray’s vocals, grittier textures, and experimental melodies creates this seductively unique quality that I love to revisit every now and again, particularly as we shift into the “-ber months.” 

– Ciara Rhiannon


Jackson Browne – For Everyman

Asylum

Taking this one literally and writing about a Brown(e) album. Widely speaking, Jackson Browne is an underrated figure in the 70s music lexicon, and one of the greatest singer-songwriters of all time. Though he started by writing hit songs for others, he quickly carved himself a niche in the Laurel Canyon folk rock scene. Browne wrote the Eagles’ “Take It Easy” and Nico’s “These Days,” among others, both of which appear on his second album For Everyman.

Browne had barely graduated high school in the late 1960s when he joined the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, left to live and make music in Greenwich Village, and then returned to Laurel Canyon, all in the span of a few years. His youth never impeded his acumen as a songwriter, and For Everyman is perhaps his songwriter-iest. His self-titled debut album contains one of his biggest hits, and his fifth album, Running On Empty, is his most famous, but For Everyman contains his most breathtaking lyrics.

Many successful musicians get to write their own lore—to the victor go the spoils, etc. Some of it may be true, some of it may be artificially enhanced. The way Jackson Browne always tells it, he wrote “These Days” when he was 15 years old. I refuse to be skeptical of that, because it actually greatly enhances my appreciation of the song to think a 15-year-old boy wrote the lyrics “don’t confront me with my failures, I had not forgotten them.”

He may not have had the flash of Don Henley, or the mystique of Nico, but Jackson Browne’s For Everyman proves he could always write any of them under the table.

– Caleb Doyle


Ms. Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

Ruffhouse Records

Brown is the worn surface of a classroom desk; brown is back-to-school autumn; brown is the backdrop for a student who sits down and realizes how much they still have yet to learn. Thematically, it’s where The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill begins: the iconic album art shows Ms. Lauryn Hill’s face etched into a wooden desk, and the first track is a teacher’s roll call. What follows is a generational run of songs making melodic and emotional sense of life’s headiest lessons.

Miseducation weaves a cohesive, but far from tidy, narrative about a young woman baring her soul to lovers, navigating fame, choosing motherhood, and reconciling her roots. If any of the above sounds trite, it’s only because of the countless imitators Hill herself spawned with the release of this fundamental work. Set to timeless grooves, inimitable rap/vocal interchanges, and impossibly catchy choruses, Ms. Lauryn Hill’s songs remain the blueprint for the everywoman-philosopher journey.

Hit play on this revered record and school is in session.

– Katie Hayes


R.A.P Ferreira – bob's son: R.A.P. Ferreira in the garden level cafe of the scallops hotel

Ruby Yacht

It’s impossible to talk about Bob’s Son without specifying who the whole album was written about in the first place. The “Bob” in question is Bob Kaufman, a significant Black poet commonly associated with the Beat Generation (and, depending on who you ask, the person who came up with the name) as well as a style of art known as Afro-Surrealism. His poetry, like a lot of his Beat peers, was heavily informed by the jazz that coated the streets of the United States in the 20th century- so much so that he practiced the jazz concept of spontaneous composition for his own work, often scribbling poems on napkins and the margins of the day’s paper and leaving them there for others to discover. 

R.A.P Ferreira, formerly known as Milo and occasionally as scallops hotel, continues the tradition of Afro-Surrealism in his own music. Although he started in the nerdcore subgenre early on, Ferreira has reinvented himself artistically. Long gone are the references to niche internet communities, video games, and the feeling of being an outsider in hobbies that are predominantly white. Bob’s Son, like the man who inspired it, is instead full of knotted flows and rhymes packed with references to jazz, poetry, and the Black experience. The last song is the most direct nod to Bob one could do– it’s not a song at all, but rather a reading of one of Kaufman’s most famous poems of all time, the “Abomunist Manifesto,” a surreal, tongue-in-cheek series of declarations of a fictional belief system that mocks both capitalist and communist philosophy. 

If the admiration for Bob Kaufman doesn’t come through enough on the album, perhaps the whole reveal of the album back in 2021 will. To roll out the release, Ferreira created a virtual reality cafe (which, unfortunately, the web link has died) that is not far off from the old-school spots that Kaufman frequented in his day, shouting poetry from atop tables and scribbling spontaneous poems on whatever he had at hand. Bob’s Son plays softly in its entirety from the speakers of a boombox in the cafe. It’s a wonderful love letter not only to the man himself, but also to the affirmation in his poem “Dolorous Echo” that was true all along:

“When I die / I won’t stay / Dead.”

– Nick Sackett


Coheed and Cambria – Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV, Volume Two: No World for Tomorrow

Columbia Records

Sequels are difficult to pull off, regardless of what medium you’re talking about, but landing a great follow-up to a perfect album is absolutely a rarity in the music industry. Sequels always seem to be plagued by personnel shake-ups, unsuccessful risks, and downright bad luck, but fortunately Coheed and Cambria were still able to make something special with the sequel to their third album, No World For Tomorrow. “Sequel to the third album” sounds like a weird way to say their fourth album, but in the sci-fi opera world of Coheed, believe me, it makes sense. Despite the name consistently being shortened, No World For Tomorrow thematically and musically serves as the second volume of the band’s Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV series, making for a connected pair of records.

No World For Tomorrow follows much of Coheed’s typical formula – the foreboding and melancholic intro track, the genre-hopping singles, the epic ending suite – yet feels like such a special beast even amongst their first four iconic albums. Taylor Hawkins of Foo Fighters filled in on drums after the original (and now current) Coheed drummer, Josh Eppard, was booted from the band, making for a unique lineup. The band really leaned into their 80s rock influences in tracks like “The Hound (of Blood and Rank)” and “The End Complete V: On The Brink” as well. Conceptually, No World For Tomorrow depicts the literal end of the world and, given the personnel changes and the band’s overall approach to the songs, that ethereal, foreign atmosphere continues to earn its place in Coheed’s discography. 

– Ciara Rhiannon


Linkin Park – Meteora

Warner Records Inc.

Linkin Park’s Meteora is the most #BionicleCore album ever. What is #BionicleCore? It’s anything I was listening to during my peak “playing with Bionicles years,” duh. This also includes bands like P.O.D., Hoobastank, and Incubus. Now that I've given you a frame of reference for what ten-year-old me was up to when Meteora came out, let’s dig in. This was a big album for me. I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my life I was ever waiting on bated breath for a new band’s second album. I had no idea what a “sophomore slump” was, and evidently neither did Linkin Park, because Meteora fucking whips. I mean, c’mon, “Faint,” “Somewhere I Belong,” “Breaking The Habit,” and “Numb” are on this thing. Most bands would kill to have four songs like that in their entire career, let alone a single record. I don’t play with Bionicles anymore, which admittedly sucks, and I still love this album, but I’ll never be able to love it the way that little boy did.

RIP Chester

– Connor Fitzpatrick


Talking Kind – It Did Bring Me Down

Lauren Records

Look, I’m gonna have to level with ya: I’ve written about It Did Bring Me Down before. The first (and so far only) solo album from Pat Graham was my favorite record of 2023, but I’ll take any excuse to extol its virtues, even if just for its brownish-yellow truck-adorned album cover. This LP came out at an absolutely pivotal time in my life, and my love affair with it started simply enough. One listen through, and a song like “Damn Shame” immediately leaps out with a melody so timeless that I often find myself humming it absentmindedly. There are fast, fun tracks like “Brand New Face” and the goofy automotive love song “My Truck,” which butt up against absolute gut-wrenchers like “Trader” and “Small.” Just masterful sequencing, incredibly funny and earnest songwriting, and the whole thing ends with a song-length ode to folk musician Greg Mendez

I still listen to this album a few times a month; it’s guaranteed to put me in a good mood and take me back to that important point in my life when I made a massive leap for someone I love. To have that bottled up in 27 minutes of music is nothing short of a miracle, and if you give this album a chance, I hope you find even a fraction of the spark that it's given me. 

– Taylor Grimes


Honorable Mentions

Hey, we can’t write about every album with this color, so here’s a list of some more that we feel like we should mention.

  • Autopsy - Shitfun

  • Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Yr. Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven

  • Nine Inch Nails - The Downward Spiral

  • Ethel Cain - Willoughby Tucker, I'll Always Love You

  • Primus - Brown Album

  • Shift - Spacesuit

  • Bruce Springsteen - Darkness On the Edge Of Town

  • Weedeater - God Luck And Good Speed

  • Downhaul - How to Begin

  • Pedro The Lion - Control

  • Soccer Mommy - Clean

  • Remember Sports - The Refrigerator

  • Joyce Manor - I Used To Go To This Bar

  • Wilco - Being There

  • Alex G - Trick

  • Sluice - Companion

  • Ween - 12 Golden Country Greats

  • Ethel Cain - Peacher’s Daughter

  • Van Morrison - Moondance

  • Oso Oso - The Yunahon Mixtape

  • Foo Fighters - Foo Fighters

  • Led Zeppelin - Zeppelin III 

  • Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young - Deja Vu


Collect some more Covers:

January Blues

February Reds

March Yellows

April Greens

May Purples

July Rainbows

The Best of Q2 2023

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