Sinai Vessel – Tangled | Single Review

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Self-Released

Wednesday… MJ Lenderman… Indigo De Souza. Within the last few years, the Asheville music scene has been absolutely overflowing with incredible art, and it’s time we talk about it. Having been to Asheville exactly once in my life, I’m sure it’s always been that way, but it wasn’t until recently that the town has found itself on the lips of every music blog and indie kid with a penchant for twang and slide guitar. Beneath the Dead Oceans/ANTI-/Saddle Creek tier of rising rockstars are lowkey hidden gems like Sluice and Broken Family – somewhere between these is Sinai Vessel.

Sinai Vessel is the formerly emo, now folksy indie rock band of Caleb Cordes and an artist that I’ve personally brought up in conversation with some of Asheville’s best. The project first wound up on my radar back in 2020 with the jaw-dropping LP Ground Aswim, which wound up being one of my favorites of the year. Even as an election and the pandemic suspended the world into a dizzying stasis, I found time to sit with Ground Aswim and find peace in its calming shores. Cordes, in turn, took the time to give his album the love it deserved. One Bandcamp Friday, fans were treated to a solitary track-for-track demo version of the album and, later, a 2019 live performance showcasing early versions of select songs. Both of these collections rendered the original album in a new light and, when played in proximity, let the listener in on both Cordes’ creative process and the evolution of these songs. Ground Aswim was immortalized on vinyl, cassettes, and a zine, all released independently, nothing short of a feat in the increasingly monopolized music landscape. One year later, Cordes made his final statement on this body of work with “Swimming,” a single-song coda that marked a definitive end to this sprawling collection of songs. 

At the end of 2021, Cordes released a handful of tracks on SoundCloud plainly labeled “LP4 Demos.” Expectantly sparse and surprisingly stark, these five songs offered a workshop-like glimpse at what was coming next for the project. By releasing these songs publicly, Cordes also continued the trend of letting the listener in on his songwriting process, this time seemingly as it was happening. Now, a year and a half later, we have “Tangled,” the first real taste of what the future holds for Sinai Vessel.

The track begins with a bouncy acoustic sway that feels like a natural extension of the guitar-based LP4 Demos we’ve already heard. The first thing this instrumental reminded me of was the bright, sunny tone of the last Hovvdy album, which wound up being an apt comparison when I learned that the song was produced and engineered by Bennett Littlejohn, known for his recent work with Hovvdy, Katy Kirby, and Claire Rousay.

Cordes wastes no time jumping into things, singing, “sitting around and waiting / waiting to get fired.” Whether fueled by self-doubt, the worry we’ve done something wrong, or just anxiety from the increasingly unstable teeter-totter of capitalism, this is a looming sense of dread we’ve all probably experienced at some point in our professional careers. It’s funny and apropos because this is something I’ve felt acutely in recent weeks as my day job has slowed to a crawl, and I’ve felt less productive than I have all year. Perhaps it’s just summer doldrums, but to hear such a specific worry reflected back at me felt very cosmic and well-timed.

The lyrics go on to depict the relationship between mind and body, talking about how one informs the other but can sometimes relay or retain the wrong thing. From there, the third verse delves into the messiness of modern communication and misinterpretation, while the final lines articulate a unique brand of self-inflicted paranoia. The back half of the song touches on this rush of topics and wraps up mid-beat in a way that leaves you on the edge of your seat, waiting to hear what comes next. Cordes offers no solution to these problems, at least not on this song, but “Tangled” sure does an excellent job of making the listener's worries feel heard. 

By depicting this messy web of concerns, both real and imagined, Cordes lets them all float out of his mind and into the ether. We live in an era of intersecting apocalypses, and sometimes it can feel like tearing yourself apart just trying to figure out what to focus on. No one person has all the answers, but we do have each other, and while these aren’t all problems that can be “solved,” the first step towards tackling any of them is to lay them all out, just as Sinai Vessel does over the course of these three minutes. We’ll figure out what comes next together.

Josaleigh Pollett – In The Garden, By The Weeds | Album Review

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Self-Released

Pop music is limitless. It’s how Phoebe Bridgers can open Taylor Swift concerts or how Slash can revamp a Demi Lovato song. Somewhere at the center of that limitless energy is where In The Garden, By The Weeds exists. Josaleigh Pollett’s third album is an emotional and experimental pop record that could be aligned anywhere from Hop Along to HAIM.

Right up top, Pollett delivers one of the year’s best album openers in the form of “YKWIM” (“you know what I mean”), a song that begins with glitchy acoustic guitars and a clear lead vocal. But it’s not straightforward for long, with Pollet’s voice on the track’s namesake lyric pitched down abruptly. Crisp Boygenius-style harmonies follow in the pre-chorus leading into an unexpected but badass guitar passage. It’s one of the most compositionally layered songs of the lot, and shows the listener everything Pollett is capable of throughout the album. “I want to cry in the arms of somebody who knows me,” they passionately refrain.

“Empty Things” showcases Pollett’s best Postal Service nod, with the Ben Gibbard-esque phrasing down pat over the minimal electronic backing track. It’s elevated even further by Bly Wallentine’s instrumental contributions, notably the woodwinds that come in after the first chorus. This is one of the very few featured players on the album, as In The Garden was put together almost entirely by Pollett and bandmate/producer Jordan Watko. The duo weave their way through nine tracks that sound like they could have been crafted by an entire indie rock orchestra. Despite how instrumentally dense each song is, the singular vision makes this feel like something only an extremely imaginative singer-songwriter could calculate.

Lead single “The Nothing Answered Back” seems to have many of elements of indie greats embedded in its DNA. I hear nods to Shearwater, Austin’s baroque-folk-rock outfit that took an electronic turn on 2016’s Jet Plane And Oxbow. The sparse, cryptic synth-string section in the chorus recalls “Dilaudid” by The Mountain Goats, a track similarly powerful due to its vocals-and-violins juxtaposition. Owen Pallett, former Mountain Goats and Arcade Fire collaborator, is also a master of the style throughout his solo catalog, and that definitely sounds like a reference point here. “The Nothing Answered Back” is not the most obvious or pop-centric track here, so it’s a bold first cut to release, but it puts forth the entire album's boldness without shying away, and it totally works.

Pollett knows their way around a true blue ballad, creating tracks that are both raw and tender throughout the entire LP. The mostly acoustic “Not Easy, Not Forever” is a prime example, with Pollett keeping their vocals reserved to ensure the lyrics are at the forefront. “I only feel present when I am alone. It’s starting to make me lonely. Can’t get enough sleep when it’s all I do. Why get out of bed in the morning?” they open, a sentiment I know is shared among many people.

The song also has the album’s second mention of a “garden” as a thematic centerpiece, following “cinderblocks.” That track was released last year without being tied to an album rollout, but wound up prophetically giving this record its name. “Everybody thinks they know a fix for what we’ve seen. Take this picture, ain’t she lovely? In the garden, by the weeds.” Gardens, much like the self, need consistent care and treatment, and everyone’s got a few weeds in them that don’t make the garden any less appealing. Between the fuzzed-out vocal harmonies and the swelling production, it’s one of my favorite tracks on the album. It’s easy to hear a parallel to some of the softer moments on Lucy Dacus’ last album Home Video, but I consider it a testament to Pollett’s craft that they’re able to exist in that same space without trying to usurp or replicate it.

Bly Wallentine returns on “Earthquake Song,” this time on pump organ, adding a unique flavor to the track. When Pollett and Watko need to bring an extra player in, it feels like a meticulous choice to lock in just the right addition. This song actually has the largest personnel on the entire album, being rounded out by guest vocalists Nicole Canaan and Aisling. With that in mind, it would be assumed to be the “biggest” sounding track here. That distinction still goes to “YKWIM,” but “Earthquake Song” is a close second.

The big songs and well-placed features don’t end there, but fully culminate with the album’s triumphant closer, “July.” Ryan Shreeve provides the only live drums on the album, and they’re well-placed to cap In The Garden off alongside the synth-heavy instrumental. We also get the final lamentations on the garden theme: “I’m pulling up weeds, and I planted a tree. But it feels like my heart shape has changed. And I know that things won’t be the same. I drink enough water, and I let myself cry. Do you think that’s all right? I hope that’s all right.” Pollett recognizes there are some things about the self that can’t be changed, and it certainly is all right.

In The Garden, By The Weeds is a poignant indie popera with no emotional holds barred. Josaleigh Pollett lets their thoughts and feelings bloom on every song here, whether in self-reflection or self-deprecation. It’s all presented as one of the most honest and individualistic singer-songwriter albums of the year so far, and what should hopefully be seen as a career milestone for Pollett in the coming years.

This review is dedicated to Rudo. 

Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.

Abacot – Promo 2023 | EP Review

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Self-released

When people think of “emo music,” they tend to think of sappy, tappy, whiny bullshit. That’s all well and good, but it’s SUMMER, and the people need something light, something they can sing along to with the windows down. After all, don’t the emo kids deserve to have some upbeat jams too? That intoxicating (and almost contradictory) promise of emo sentiments wrapped in a sunny optimism is exactly what Abacot is dishing up on their inaugural three-song promo tape.

Abacot is a Virginia-based emo outfit fronted by Claudio Benedi, the primary songwriter, vocalist, and guitarist behind Commander Salamander. For those who need a bit of a history lesson, Commander Salamander (lovingly referred to by fans as Comma Salad) was a punk-leaning emo trio who were active from 2017 to 2021. The group first became known among the wider DIY scene with Gross October, an EP released on the now-defunct Chatterbot Records. While that label exploded in spectacular fashion, this connection made Comma Salad labelmates and piers with bands like Origami Angel, Stars Hollow, Equipment, and Michael Cera Palin.

After an insanely catchy double, the group released a split with Origami Angel at the start of 2019 that saw both bands plotting an upward ascent bonded by mutual admiration and their shared home of Washington, DC. In the summer of that same year, the group put out their most actualized release, Off the Goop, not even 10 minutes of shouty punk music that came with its own plush toy. 

In October of 2021, tragedy struck both Commander Salamander and the larger DIY community when the band’s drummer, Liam Crone, passed away. Following an outpouring of love and support, the band and Crone’s family set up the Liam Crone Memorial Scholarship through Berklee College of Music. Commander Salamander memorialized Crone by collecting their discography and adorning the cover with his image, essentially putting the project to rest and allowing Crone’s memory (and exuberant drumming) to live on forever through the music. 

After years of grieving and working through the loss of his friend, Benedi has returned to music with three songs meant to represent different aspects from three of the worst years of his life. Everything from the mundanities of car ownership to the complexities of human relationships and mental health are all covered in the project’s scant 10 minutes. 

Even as he presents the worst that life has dealt to him, Benedi swaddles these narratives in breezy swoons and bouncy guitarwork, making each feel like a parable told from the perspective of someone who’s made it through these things and come out the other side a stronger person. 

Opening track, “Check Engine Light,” is a soaring song about the trials and tribulations of owning a twenty-plus-year-old beater, told in the style of Jail Socks/Kerosene Heights southeast emo. Anyone that’s ever had to hand-crank their windows or ignore a dashboard light because they’re already late to work will likely find some relatability here, inevitably sucked into the chorus whenever they see a mysterious yellow symbol light up on their car. 

Things go from annoying to dire on “Vertigo,” a track about the disorienting experience of navigating a relationship with a narcissist. Appropriately, the instrumental jostles the listener around until the end of the song appears like a light at the end of a tunnel, finally presenting a way out. Similarly, “Horror” imagines an anxiety attack as the relentless villain of a slasher flick, complete with slick guitar solos and even some splashes of organ throughout.

Decidedly less punk-leaning than Commander Salamander, the three songs on Abacot’s promo tape showcase an artist metamorphosing into something fresh but familiar. After losing a close friend and bandmate (on top of everything else the world has collectively experienced over the past three years), it’s nice to hear from Claudio again in such a different form. 

While Comma Salad specialized in one-minute ragers, Abacot songs sprawl out into a more standard 3-minute run time. The emo pop sensibilities that poked through on tracks like “Scooter” have been refined and are cast in a new light under the Abacot name. This project also continues the streak of DC collaboration, with Origami Angel’s Ryland Heagy helping flesh these tracks out from their demo form and doubling as the tape’s producer. 

If these tracks present the worst that Benedi has incurred over the last few years, having these songs packaged up and out into the world must feel like a relief. By releasing this three-track tape, it means these events have been weathered, that they are in the past, that they’re finally over. One would hope that this is a necessary part of closure and working these things out of your system, and by listening to them, we’re not just hearing new songs from an artist we love, but we’re leaving all of this in the past too. Here’s to Abacot and whatever comes next.

MooseCreek Park – Hope This Clears Things Up | Album Review

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Thumbs Up Records

Nothing makes me feel older than reflecting on the fact that the youth of today will likely never experience summers standing in the blistering heat at Warped Tour, inhaling clouds of dust while waiting to catch your favorite band rip a 15-minute set sandwiched between acts like Motionless in White and Reel Big Fish. For me, those months spent between semesters will forever be soundtracked by the fast-paced, angry pop-punk that took over the 2010s. That point in time is exactly where I’m taken to when listening to MooseCreek Park’s debut LP Hope This Clears Things Up.

Much like those Warped Tour acts of old, the Long Island-based emo band dons angst, resentment, nostalgic yearning, and self-loathing like nobody’s business. This release is a dream for those pop-punk kids turned emo as MooseCreek Park has mastered the composition of energetic yet introspective tracks. Most notably, this is showcased on "Pieces," one of the album’s three singles, and a song that had me enthralled on first listen. This track finds MooseCreek Park’s songwriting at its most polished—matching twinkly guitar riffs and a punchy chorus with relentlessly honest vocals that aren’t afraid to hit every beat of self-doubt.

These wildly catchy choruses are found on nearly every track throughout the release making for hardly any downtime. The following song, “Soggy Bacon,” continues this trend with a breakdown-like intro that transitions seamlessly into a wonderfully crafted verse. The lyrics on this track start to build out the album's themes, giving the listener an idea of where everything is heading. After the defeated lyrics found on “Pieces,” we’re hit with candid lines like, “Hiding that I’m jealous, that I’m angry, that I’m insecure. I’ll try for you.”

Before the instrumental break of “183 Days,” we’re given my personal favorite off the release, “What’s for Dinner,” which caps off the first half of the LP. It’s a more mellowed-out track, led steadily by a noodly guitar riff paired with drums that fuel the track just enough without spilling over. The song culminates in a breakdown towards the end, as vocalist/guitarist Vinny Cederna shouts, “Why can’t I stand your voice? Seasons change, but natures don’t.”

The back half of the album kicks off with “Ok Dylan,” another single whose fast-paced nature calls for finger-pointing and stage dives. The track even goes as far as to incorporate nautically themed gang vocals before dissolving into a slower-paced bridge. It’s then in “Drowning” where themes tie back to “Soggy Bacon” with the line, “You said you’re not willing to make changes for me.” For Cederna, the LP seems to be as much about self-reflection and processing emotions as it is a bridge-burning letter to those who've wronged him.

The second half of the album plays on similar beats, save for the significant shift in tone on track 10, “A Letter to Myself.” Trudged along by solemn chords, this song finds MooseCreek Park at their lowest, though the band knows better than to end their debut on a soft note; “Matchbox” caps off HTCTU with a twinkly-as-hell, nostalgia-filled track. The band uses the finality of this song to touch on the regretful tone that is sprinkled throughout the release, singing, “Holding onto last July, memories are all I’ve got.” And would it really be a modern emo release if there weren’t some form of screaming on the LP? MooseCreek Park covers all their bases with this closer, wrapping the album by pouring out all their remaining energy with shouted vocals over some insane tapping riffage.

After hearing the three singles that MCP put out in the lead-up to this album, I knew they were cooking up something special. They’ve managed to capture both the essence of angsty, finger-pointy pop-punk of the 2010s while maintaining the 5th wave emo noodles. Releasing the album via Thumbs Up Records, which proclaims itself as “Home of the Riff Mafia,” MCP is surrounded by good company. If there were an XXL Freshman Class of emo, MooseCreek Park would undoubtedly make the cut. 

Brandon Cortez is a writer/musician residing in El Paso, Texas, with his girlfriend and two cats. When not playing in shitty local emo bands, you can find him grinding Tears of the Kingdom on his second cup of cold brew. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.

Pool Kids – Pool Kids // POOL | Split Review

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Pool Kids // POOL Split Cover Art

Skeletal Lightning

On the heels of the dizzying success of their 2022 self-titled release, Pool Kids’ newest project is a collaboration with…themselves. The Pool Kids // POOL split sees the Floridians playing off their own extremes, with three decidedly hardcore tracks under the alter ego “POOL,” which serve as foil to side one’s signature twinkly emo sounds. Has this ever been done before? Has a band issued a split with a different iteration of themselves as the second band? Amidst a music industry fraught with stale money grabs, THIS is the kind of fun, fresh thing we need here in the dismal, dreary Year of our Lord 2023. 

The EP starts with the only truly new Pool Kids track, “No Stranger.” Maybe I just have Cocteau Twins on the brain, but the singing here seems like it’s shrouded just a layer or two more than it has been in the band’s past work, delivered in a dreamy haze by vocalist Christine Goodwyne. The song’s urgency builds to a shoegazey bridge, brought back down to earth by the final bass and guitar notes ping-ponging gently off each other. What captured my heart in this song is the pop urgency of the melodies—it’s a subtle but compelling departure from the meandering American-Football-esque constructions of their previous album. However, the sounds of emo and pop-punk roots persist in the layered instruments and Goodwyne’s lyrical phrasing. Is this my new favorite Pool Kids song? Feels crazy to say, but maybe!

The second track is an alternate, slowed-down version of “Talk Too Much,” one of Pool Kids’ 2022 bangers. This reimagined version capitalizes on deliberate softness, paring back the original’s chugging guitars and turning down the dial on the vocals. It’s not necessarily quiet, though; atmospheric keys wrap Goodwyne’s voice in droning layers. The drums in the last portion of the song take me straight to Death Cab For Cutie’s “Grapevine Fires,” perhaps suggesting a throughline of indie pop that tethers some of the band’s songwriting to other disparate influences.

The twinkly guitars make a brief comeback in the third track, a pseudo-acoustic version of the 2022 album single “Arm’s Length.” Andy Anaya’s electric guitar pops in with riffs on the first couple of verses, reminding us who we’re listening to (Pool Kids), and then cedes to a melee of acoustic guitars, sparse drum machines, and even an accordion (I think??!?!). The restrained quality of Goodwyne’s voice gives the song’s lyrics a new dimension: the minimum wage complaint of verse two sounds more despairing than frustrated, for instance. And, of course, the relatable first verse—

I'm in a group chat
With twenty-one goddamn people
I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not
My phone crashes thirty-seven times a day

Where these lyrics once came across as tongue-in-cheek, it’s astonishing how goddamn lonely they suddenly sound when cast in a soft, twilight glow at this new tempo. It’s a gently haunting end to the Pool Kids side of the split.

Then, the twinkles fade, and the mosh pit opens. Yes, it’s a little bit of whiplash, but what did you want, the same old predictable EP that’s half singles you’ve already heard? Get off your ass and RAGE! (This pep talk is as much for myself as it is for the reader, as I am old and somewhat sleepy.)

Without warning, the first POOL track begins with crashing hardcore guitars that lead into a beautifully thrash-worthy breakdown, complete with brutal shrieks and pounding double bass drums–the whole nine yards. At only a minute and 19 seconds, “Cleansing” is a brief and brutal whirlwind, and the funny thing is that it absolutely makes sense in the context of Pool Kids’ technical precision. Guitars? Check. Drums? Check. See, not so different from a Pool Kids song!

For a bit of a history lesson, the mission statement for POOL was first laid out in an emojipasta April Fools tweet back in 2019:

The band put a corresponding two-song single on Bandcamp and even a batch of 7” flexi discs, with the proceeds going to marine research on red tide. Hilariously, Paramore’s Hayley Williams happened to shout out Pool Kids—a career-boosting milestone—that same day, meaning many new fans’ confusing first encounter with Pool Kids was actually the April Fools’ tweet. The band cleared the air the next day with a Twitter thread and promised more POOL shenanigans in the future since it was clearly such a hit.

Making good on their April 1 promise to wreak annihilation, the fiery “Inside A Wall” opens with a breakneck tempo, only to slow down to a heavy chug halfway through. Again, POOL keep it short, with the song clocking in at a slim 1:28. It’s absolutely insane how deftly these guys are picking up an entirely different genre for a couple of songs. 

The final track, “Death Sentence,” feels like the guttural icing on the cake of POOL’s side of the split. Multiple tempo changes wrangle the song into three acts, a quick, yet face-melting saga. Fuck, this would be fun live, wouldn’t it?

When Pool Kids’ self-titled album knocked it out of the park last year, their meteoric success had a lot of people—including the band themselves—curious about what was next. How would they manage to keep such a trademark twinkly emo sound fresh? Philosophically, the answer lies within this split. Chop up the formula: subtly, gracefully, wildly, imaginatively.

In a recent interview, guitarist Andy Anaya beamed confidence at what lay in store in the near future: “We’re just really excited about what’s coming up for us.” The conversation progressed to what the next step looks like: “‘Now, we just want to create something that endures,’ says Andy, with Christine adding, ‘I guess we’re shooting for longevity.’”

I can’t see into the future, so I can’t speak to Pool Kids’ longevity yet. But if we’re talking industry impact, if we’re talking ingenuity, if we’re talking icon behavior (three things that lend themselves to longevity), this split reaffirms that Pool Kids are knocking it out of the park.

Katie Wojciechowski is a music writer and karaoke superstar in Austin, Texas. She is from there, but between 2010 and now, also lived in Lubbock, TX, Portland, OR, and a camper. Her life is a movie in which her bearded dragon Pancake is the star. You can check out her Substack here. She’s writing a book about growing up alongside her favorite band, Paramore.