Chasing Lovely have released a live version of their track “Always and Never Enough,” and it’s definitely enough to pull on your heartstrings and make you feel some pretty serious emotions.
Hailing from Nashville, sister duo Chloe and Taylor are able to weave a vivid tale with their voices and light acoustic guitar that’ll give you goosebumps. This folky pair advocate working toward positive change, and their music is a fantastic reflection of that. “Always and Never Enough” is an introspective peak into how they process the positive yet tragic elements of the human element and everyday existence.
Sit back in a comfortable chair, turn on “Always and Never Enough,” and listen to Chasing Lovely as they offer you a new perspective (which seems particularly necessary as of late).
I am a scavenger, perhaps an opportunist, although that doesn’t sound very rugged. Ever since moving to New York in 2008, I’ve developed a wild thirst for the “hunt” whenever I return to either of my parents’ homes. The “hunt” occurs when after only moments of being beyond the doormat, all I want to do is rip through bookshelves, closets, photo albums, the garage, etc. It is a side effect of my severe addiction to nostalgia; a dangling carrot suggesting that around every nook I might find something exquisite. And, I typically do.
Despite the virtue of minimalism, I’m grateful as hell that my parents, especially my mother and grandparents (who we called Papa Charlie and Yaya), have saved so much over the years. At times, their collections verge on the side of hoarding. I once opened a drawer in Yaya’s house to find, among other useless knickknacks, a mason jar filled with tiny rosettes she’d fashioned from gum wrappers. There was nothing utilitarian about her “collecting,” but how can you deny the artfulness of such a thing? I couldn’t throw them out.
I could write a book gushing over all of Yaya’s clothing and bizarre creations I’ve acquired over the years, and someday I just might, but as I sit in my grandparents’ living room in Huntington Beach, California, it is Papa Charlie’s record collection that is scoring the evening.
Traditionally, I think of the “musical side” of my family as stemming from my father’s half of the tree, with so many songwriters weighing that branch. But, it was Papa Charlie who upheld the musical fanaticism on my mother’s side. As I flip through the dusty stacks of Charlie’s vinyl collection, my mom stands in the kitchen reminiscing about her wily dad.
“Back in the day,” she says, “after my mom would go to bed, he would whisper, ‘Go get another bottle of wine,’ after already drinking two or three, and we would just sit in the living room listening to jazz and big band, getting smashed. He would say, ‘Oh! Oh! Listen to that! Isn’t that marvelous?! Do you hear that?!”
I’ve certainly inherited Charlie’s propensity to always have a favorite part of a song, and then subsequently shove it down peoples’ throats while listening to it. I also share his need for ritual while playing records-attentively putting them on and just sitting and listening.
Charles Priddy passed away in 2002 near the Texas County he was born in. At the time I was on the heels of 13 – in peak preteen misery. I had relinquished the clarinet for electric bass in the hopes of making it as a punk musician someday. Papa Charlie, who was a devout fan of big band clarinetist Benny Goodman, was noticeably disappointed when I abandoned the woodwind. I couldn’t understand why. I had never thought of Charlie as an interesting person when I was younger. I knew he was a geologist, and one of the few members of my family who went to college. I knew he was an immense connoisseur of wine and rich food. I knew that he used to bury fossils from all over the world in his Orange County yard to “confuse future scientists.”
It was only years after his passing that I came to realize we would have gotten on famously. Today, as I flipped through his vinyl, through Django Reinhardt’s Swing It Lightly, Tex Ritter’sBlood On The Saddle, and countless albums of jazz, big band, bossa nova and flamenco, I wished more than anything I could sit with him, a glass of Syrah in one hand, just listening. I wish I could relay to him that my musical tastes have broadened since we last saw each other, and that with all the “noise” I love, I also dig on Artie Shaw and Art Tatum and Sergio Mendes, just like, and probably because of him. We would have a whole hell of a lot to talk about; food, my Yaya’s native Spain, our collective disbelief in god, food, and of course, music.
One of my favorite finds of today has been The Language and Music of the Wolves, which boasts recordings of actual wolves, narrated by Robert Redford. It is the land-dwelling equivalent to one of my favorite records in my dad’s collection: a collection of whale songs narrated by Leonard Nimoy.
Charlie was someone who was absolutely full of surprises, darkly hilarious, and smart as a whip. I credit all of my sarcasm and black humor to him, for better or worse. After he passed my mother was attempting to clean out a closet filled with cases of wine in his California home. Tucked away in a dirty little corner was a stack of Charlie’s vintage Playboys. The scoundrel.
But his reading habits weren’t solely of the centerfold kind. He was a massive fan of Hemingway, and shared the author’s love of Spain. When he married Yaya in the ‘50s, he quickly learned her native Castilian tongue and would take my mother and his wife back to the homeland often, stopping at as many of Hemingway’s old haunts as he could locate. On more than one occasion in such an establishment, my mother would look around at the bar, quickly noticing the dress of the female waitresses.
“Dad, are we in a brothel?” She would probe. Charlie would glance side to side. “Shh. Don’t tell your mother.”
His love for Spanish culture is evident in his record collection as well, with piles of flamenco LPs and recordings by classical Spanish guitar players such as Andrés Segovia.
My grandfather was a scientist and a romantic all at once. He could easily break things down with materialist logic, but he chose to save that for the workplace. He was a sort of bacchant, relishing in life’s edible and artistic pleasures with a pagan fervor.
My discoveries of the day do not shock me for the most part…though there is one outlier I don’t understand. Throughout my sifting I found a fair amount of German folk music. I ask my mom about it and she confirms that he loved polka in addition to Dean Martin, Mel Tormé and Edith Piaf.
“We used to go to this place in Anaheim called the Phoenix club,” she says. “It was a German spot and they used to have live polka music. One night he and I were quite a few beers in and we were dancing all over the place-so hard, that grandpa fell right on top of me on the dance floor. Yaya had to drive us home, cursing at us is Spanish as we drunkenly sang polka songs in the back seat.”
I continue to dust off albums, and there before me is a record that explains it all: For Singing And Dancing: Beer Drinking-Songs by the Zillertal Band. A nice marriage of interests, at the very least.
I of course cannot turn back time, or resurrect the dead. But I can sit in Charlie’s armchair, and put on Taboo by Arthur Lyman with a glass of wine in one hand, shouting “Oh! Oh! Listen to that! Isn’t that marvelous?! Do you hear that?!” to no one in particular. And sometimes, that’s enough.
Looking for a unique spin on the whole #ThrowbackThursday craze, or perhaps a new way to interpret 90s nostalgia? Well, It Was Romance is five steps ahead of you with the new video for their single “Hooking up with Girls.”
The video pays an homage to Fiona Apple as a shot-by-shot remake of Apple’s 90s hit “Criminal,” which frontwoman Lane Moore went above and beyond to recreate. She sought out similar clothing as to what Apple wears in her video, and aimed to find a matching setting as well. And on top of this already diligent fangirl tribute, it was also recently the 20th anniversary of Apple’s album Tidal. If that’s not dedication to a release, I don’t know what is.
Similar to “Criminal,” “Hooking up with Girls” is emotional, raw, and vulnerable. “I’ve always been obsessed with 90s music videos, and Fiona Apple has been a musical inspiration to me since I was a kid,” Moore shared. “The ‘Criminal’ song and video are both so sexy and frustrated and angry and conflicted, all of which were themes in ‘Hooking up with Girls.” It’s the sort of video that inspires emotional purges and can serve as the track that plays in the background of your own personal documentary as you come to an epic love life realization.”
On top of acting in the video and providing the spine-tingling vocals, Moore also directed “Hooking up with Girls” with a diverse crew, including many LGBT folks. It’s the true definition of a passion project, one that Moore has been working on for over a year. “I love the original video so much, so to be able to take that original and add a queer element, and then tie it to this song that I’ve been dying to release as a single forever feels wonderful.”
Check out the official video below, then head over to It Was Romance’s Bandcamp or Spotify to hear more of their captivating tunes.
The world isn’t feeling too positive lately, so a grungy garage rock song feels like just the thing we need to get these emotions out. It’s the sort of track where you can choose to head bang and shout your heart out, or just sit and soak in it, letting it fill you up and expand inside. We have just the right song for these types of moods and circumstances: Lié’s “Failed Visions.”
This trio of Vancouver badasses are cooking up some deliciously grungy post-punk music. Their debut album, Consent, provided social commentary about rape culture as told from the perspective of these three rockin’ ladies. It’s pretty damn relevant to some recent events, and great to hear the voices of strong women speaking their truth and not backing down from some of the more infuriating parts of our system.
“Failed Visions” is a single from their upcoming sophomore album Truth or Consequences, out August 12. Check out their single and let these tunes fill you up rather than rage, disappointment, and the slew of other negative feelings many of us are holding onto lately.
Sometimes America is late to the game. Such is the case with AARADHNA, the Adele of the South Pacific. With her new album Brown Girl, AARADHNA is set to to continue her world domination in the U.S. And with our current political and cultural landscape – we need her. She’s already dropped the single and video for the stunning “Welcome to the Jungle,” which if you read on, you’ll get a chance to experience. As the July 22 release date for Brown Girl inches closer, AudioFemme go the chance to chat with AARADHNA about race, breaking into the American music scene, and those gorgeous tattoos.
AudioFemme: So you’re already established in New Zealand and Australia. How has your experience been moving towards a US audience with your latest project?
AARADHNA: The reception with ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ is positive but at this stage it’s too soon to say – time will tell.
I read that Brown Girlis about “people trying to put you in a box” – will you elaborate?
Growing up, I’ve seen and witnessed others including myself being ‘labeled’, stereotyped, put in box for what I looked like, what color my skin was, and it’s frustrating because I know who I am as a person. The song “Brown Girl” talks about racism and the feeling of being judged, this song tells the listener that there are layers to me. It goes deeper than skin color. It’s soul – “I am more than the color of my skin, I’m a girl that likes to sing, I’m somebody that has dreams, I’m smart, I’m goofy, I’m proud of my cultural roots, I like to cook, I like to read, I love animals, I have a caring heart, I’m sensitive, I come from a big loving family, I love horror movies, all kinds of music, etc. There’s more to me than what you think see that’s what I’m saying. Don’t put me in a box, a box is restricting and limited. I don’t belong there.
Your new album is very personal. What are your inspirations for the album?
Love, heartbreak, and life in general.
How does it deviate from your earlier work?
Each album is a different stage of my life and with this album it represents how far I’ve come – my growth from a young girl to a woman.
In 2016 the world is such a bonkers place politically – both in the US and abroad. How did politics and race relations play a role in the album?
I always wanted to write a song to express how I’ve felt growing up about being labelled and as previously mentioned the song “Brown Girl” talks about racism and being judged. I’m sure that everyone at some point in their life can relate as these things happen every day.
Tell me about the video for “Welcome to the Jungle.” What were the inspirations behind it?
“Welcome to the Jungle” is about change. You have to go through it, and there is no way around it.
What artists have you been listening to these days?
I’ve been listening to a lot of Shuggie Otis, Freedom Flight always takes me to another place.
Because they’re so beautiful I have to ask – will you tell me about your tattoos?
Thank you – I got these tattoos to represent my Samoan and Indian heritage and that’s just me taking pride in my culture and me saying this is what runs in my blood. My dude Andy Tauafiafi at Taupou Tatau is the awesome artist behind these tats. I don’t go to no one else but to him; he is a great artist.
What advice would you give to a young woman trying break into the music industry?
Perseverance is key. Learn how to say no when you WANT to say no. I used to always consider the person first when it came to my craft, but through time I realized that I need to be selfish, especially when it comes to my craft, ’cause at the end of the day it’s got my name it and I’m responsible for what I put out there, and you have to be 100% happy with what you put out there. Always put you first because no one has your back better than you do.
Watch the video below for “Welcome to the Jungle.” For more AARADHNA, click here to download the title track “Brown Girl.”
Following the release of last year’s energetic single “Silver Streets”, Thomas Killian McPhillips VII, Derek Tramont, and Ryan Colt Levy of BRAEVES zealously uprooted themselves from the familiarity of New York to explore how the band could flourish with a little change in scenery.
“When the prospect of moving to LA came up,” said Tramont, “It was a lightning bolt that hit us so hard, we just picked up and drove across the country together, practically no questions asked.”
And “Bitter Sea” makes it clear: California sun sure suits them well.
Equal parts love letter and break-up song, the track illustrates a bittersweet goodbye to a personified New York City.
“We were kind of at odds with the New York music scene, partly because we have been living and playing in New York all our lives,” recounts Tramont. “It could have been Chicago, London, or Portland. I’m sure you would grow tired of your hometown; that’s just natural. But we felt a bit of a disconnect. Whether it was some of the bands we played with, the venues, or the real lack of a music ‘scene,’ something just felt like it was holding us back from truly expressing ourselves.”
It’s a new kind of relationship they’re developing with LA, as the band “really needed something that would make us feel like we were growing and not just stagnating…something drastic needed to change to get us to the place we want to be.” But while BRAEVES may be based on the West Coast now, lyrics such as, “And the more my body tells me I’m entranced/The deeper in your quicksand I’ll descend” show that even if you leave New York, it never quite leaves you.
Recorded at Red Rockets Glare with Raymond Richards (known for his work with Local Natives, whom the band often cite as a key influence), “Bitter Sea” illustrates a fresh vivacity and prowess that were never lacking in older songs, but rather, have been elegantly refined. It has BRAEVES sounding refreshed without straying from the soulful and shimmering echoes that define their ethereal sound, and it has us eager for their forthcoming sophomore EP.
Stream the track below, and if you’re on the West Coast, catch them live, where you certainly won’t be disappointed. Plus, you might just be lucky enough to hear even more new songs:
New York songstress Alexa Wilding has an upcoming EP Wolves, which sees a transition from her previously more airy folk music. We sat down and talked about where her inspiration came from for the piece, as well as what sort of transition we can expect from her past work. After taking a few years off from music, Alexa realized the pull toward this art form was stronger than she had previously acknowledged, and she found herself creating music when she needed an outlet. It also provided her with a chance to really focus on herself. This is an EP that saw her through a difficult time in her life—when one of her children was diagnosed with cancer—and both its name and content reflect the changes Alexa underwent.
Read on below for an interview with her, and keep an eye out for Wolves, which is due to release on July 8.
AudioFemme: Tell me about your musical history, are any of your family members involved in music?
Alexa Wilding: Yeah, I come from a pretty ridiculously arty family. My dad’s parents were well known opera singers. My mom’s an actress, my dad still is a filmmaker, my grandmother was a painter, so needless to say—and my aunt was a ballet dancer—we’re sort of an arty bunch. And music played a pretty big role in my childhood and in my family’s culture really.
What inspired you to create your new EP Wolves?
Sort of circumstances I never ever thought I’d be writing a record in. I had twins in 2013. They’re going to be three next month. And unfortunately—well, things are fine now, but my son Lou went through cancer treatment. So the record was written in the most unlikely of places. He’s fine, which is really good for him.
That’s such a relief.
Yeah, it was crazy. It was really crazy. But you know, becoming a new mother, I wasn’t really sure, like am I going to keep doing music? It’s all I’ve ever done, but I was just so sapped creatively from the wild psychedelia of being a new mother and then we were thrown into this crisis. And basically what it meant was weeks on end for six months, we basically lived in the hospital. We switched off nights, my husband and I, so my son at home always had a parent.
But for the first round, I was in such a state of shock that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I would just stare out the window at the East River and be like, “Where am I? How did this happen?” I was so terrified. Then by the second round, I don’t know what happened, but I said, “Okay, that’s it, Alexa. You need to carve some space for yourself.” So I turned to what I always turned to, which is music. I wrote the songs on Wolves on a toy piano borrowed from the hospital playroom.
It was wild. And while my son slept and healed, the songs just came. And mostly it was an escape for me. Like when I tell people that I wrote the songs in these unusual circumstances, they’re like, “Oh my God, this must be a really depressing cancer record.” And I’m like, “Actually there isn’t even a mention of what was going on.”
I so needed an escape, and what I did was I really focused on a time in my life right before I became a mother. That year I was touring nonstop and different relationships were kind of coming in and out of my life, so the record was sort of making peace with some of those loose ends, things that were put on hold to become a mother. And by doing that, I was able to become present.
Pediatricians always joke when you become a parent, and they’re like, “You know, you’re a parent, you need to put the oxygen mask on you first and then your kid.” And I was always like, “What the hell does that mean?” But that’s kind of what I did. So it was very surreal to leave this six-month experience with a cancer-free child, which is obviously the most important thing, but also as an artist, to have these songs that were ready to go. And it was very reaffirming after taking a few years off to be like I don’t really have a choice. I guess making albums is just what I do.
That’s awesome. I’m so glad he’s okay.
Thank you! Me too, me too.
So what does your ideal audience to this EP look like?
That’s a good question. People have joked about me that my following are a small but dedicated circle of very well-dressed people. I was like, okay, yeah, I like that. I feel like this record in particular is my most accessible one to date. But, that said, it’s the one I find most interesting. So I hope I haven’t sacrificed any of the oddness by having my first full-band record. I think that women in particular, hopefully, will relate to it. I am definitely a 90s kid, so I came of age with Lilith Fair. Kim Deal was like my hero, and Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan. Ya know, we all laugh because Sarah McLachlan is so dorky now, but I was listening to her recently when I was on a job, and I was like, “This is good stuff. Everyone’s got to chill out about this. She changed history.”
Yeah, I agree. There’s something about it where you’re like, this isn’t really a guilty pleasure because I’m not guilty about this.
Yeah, that makes sense! Totally. I loved all that stuff. So I am unabashedly saying and hoping to carry on that tradition of women who, ya know, wrote good songs and knew how to play their instruments and told stories that were very personal to the female experience. And that said, you know, I think more men are actually hopefully going to like the record, too, because it has a masculine side to it as well. It’s really—and this is really stereotypical—but it’s really trying to move. Which I wanted, because the whole idea with Wolves was be like, here are these feminine stories that I was trying to summon up in myself, like the wolf, to have the strength to handle my experience. With most of the record, there’s a softness to it, but to be totally blunt, the joke we made in the studio was always, “Boobs and balls, boobs and balls: They have to be in direct proportion, in an even balance.”
So I feel like it’s my toughest record, in a weird way. And I’m really proud of that because I was getting really sick of, ya know, before and people saying, “Oh, it’s just a girl picking her guitar. La-di-da.”
Right, yeah, that’s kind of insulting.
Or you get up to play a show and people would immediately look at you and before you started and be like, “I know what I’m in for.” And that used to make me crazy. I’m hoping it’ll reach a wider audience, and it’s not just the freaky folk thing anymore. When I wrote it, I was listening to a lot of radio and having fun playing with melodies for the first time in a way that I was like, “I want everyone to like this song!” Even the person who’s just tapping their foot, they’ll get that out of it.
Is there anything you’re hoping that your fans will take away from this piece?
Yeah, I mean obviously I can’t divorce the story of the circumstances in which it was written from the music. And my fans were so supportive during our crisis. Ben Lee, who’s a friend, did fundraising for us. So many of my friends used their celebrity to sort of help us. And the story, despite myself, got a lot of attention. And I was really happy to share our story with different media outlets. Because, as Ben said when he started—he did a Plumfund—because something people don’t realize is that I was like, “I’m not fundraising. What will people think? We have insurance! Blah blah blah.” But a medical crisis like that really wreaks havoc. Things you don’t even think about, like going to take cabs to and from the hospital every day. So that was really a lifesaver. But what he said was, “They are us. This could happen to any of us.” And what I’m hoping people get from it is the importance of holding onto yourself during a crisis, whether or not you are a parent. I don’t want to isolate or alienate fans who are not parents, but at the same time I’m pretty sure the record will hold a special place. It really has touched a lot of mothers, at least in New York City a lot of mothers have started following me during this crisis.
But what I hope fans take away from it is the idea that we can make friends with parts of ourselves that we used to be. I think that’s a lot of what the record is about. I talk a lot about different relationships. There’s one song, “Road Song,” in which it’s kind of a cinematic song. I mean, it’s basically a woman saying that she wants to be with somebody who’s with somebody. And that was a really scary song for me to write. I had to sort of make peace with that part of myself. We all have that.
I know I’m talking to a female music blog right now so I can say this, but I think it’s very hard for women to talk about their desire. Men are allowed to say, “I want that!” Or, “I want her!” Or, “I want to go on the road with my rock and roll band.” And nobody really thinks twice about it. And when it comes to women, we have a harder time talking about that. So for me, this record dealt with a lot of love as issues. Like with wolves. Like why can’t that person step up and do what the wolves do and be my partner? Why can’t I step up? In “Road Song,” it’s like I want that—I want what he has. And “Durga,” the last song, the lover is disappointed in the fact that her partner is not leaving his easel to tend to her needs. So like, all these little stories, these little snippets. Also, there’s this song called “Black” that’s a really small song where I just talk about going to a dark place. As women, especially as mothers, we’re not allowed to talk about wanting to go to a dark place. We’re supposed to just keep it together and lay low, so I think I was dealing with a lot of those questions on the record.
That makes a lot of sense. There is that weird expectation, especially with a mother, if you say anything is wrong, people are like, “She can’t handle motherhood.”
Exactly! I was even worried, like what are people going to think? She wrote this record about her son? It’s like what I was dealing with, and people were doubting me. It’s because I wrote a record that I was able to mother him. We’re so judgmental. And women are the worst!
I read a quote recently, a female filmmaker had a really bad interview where she had a movie come out and the interviewer kind of bashed her, and it was a fellow female. And she wrote an open letter defending her films, and in it she said, there’s a famous quote, I forget who said it: “There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t support other women.” I love that. All about the sisterhood!
Definitely. So since you feel you’re kind of switching genres, is there any genre that you now feel like you fit into better?
I definitely was sort of occupying—I mean, I was told I was occupying more of a freak folk, folky, flower crowns thing. And I love a flower crown, but I really want to be moving more into just singer/songwriter. And someone like Natalie Merchant is incredible, as sort of the godmother of this sort of genre. People that I normally look up to in my own sort of circle. Also, Adler is incredible; I love her stuff. She’s somebody who made really spooky folk music and is now sort of standing her sound. I see this in a lot of my peers. Merchant has really taken off, which is so good for all of us, but I see it in our circle, and we are really moving away from the pigeonhole of “girl with a guitar.” And I still, I mean, it’s so cliché, but I still hear in interviews or after shows, “Oh my God, you were so incredible. I can’t believe you play your own instruments!” It’s just wild. That still exists.
You’d think we’d moved away from that already. So is there any specific song that you feel more of a connection with than the others?
My favorite song on the record—I mean, I have a couple—but there’s this song called “Stars,” it’s the fourth song, that I really love because it was just such an example of my escaping. It was a memory of being on the road, and I talked about being by the Rockies and the clear skies and the sadness I felt because I was so trapped as I was writing it. I really love that song. The line is, “Sometimes the sky throws a handful of stars in your way.” For me that sort of sums up the whole thing: that life really takes these crazy, wild turns, but you can really get through them in a magical way if you consider the circumstances with the same wonder and curiosity as you would a good situation. So I really tried to do that during my son’s crisis. And people would say during it, “How are you so together? How are you so cheerful?” And I would just wake up every day and I’d wash my face and I’d put on a nice dress and try to make everything look nice and do my best and have the same curiosity toward a bad day as you would a good day, which sounds really Pollyanna, but it really takes fucking guts. And I’m in awe of some of the people who really inspired me to summon up the wolf woman. The she-wolf.
That sounds amazing. What do you have planned for the future right now?
So we’re releasing Wolves in July, and I’m really only playing a limited amount of shows just because I’m with my kids right now and the logistics of three-year-old twins. I don’t know, I am a bit of an overachiever, but I have to sort of draw the line. I’m still going to do what I can to share the songs with the world. And I’m actually beginning the next record, which will be a full-length record. I’m really excited about that. And also, I’m writing a book, basically about the whole experience.
If you could perform at one venue, existent or nonexistent, which one would you choose?
Oh my gosh. One venue. As a New Yorker, I would kill to perform at the Beacon. That’s a real dream of mine. Or Carnegie Hall.I saw Suzanne Vega do something there a few years ago, and she couldn’t help herself and said, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice!”
But my one regret is that, before becoming a mother, I didn’t tour in Europe. And I really look forward to doing that in the future. In particular, I just want to play in Paris. That would be a really happy, happy night.
What besides creating music do you do as a hobby? Do you have anything that kind of forms your identity?
Yes, so mother/musician/writer. I’m quiet about my writing, just because music is so in your face. But I write and read constantly. I’m a real bookworm.
Do you have any musical milestones that you’re working toward adamantly?
For me, the biggest milestone is that I’d really love to have a label or a team behind me. I’ve been doing this by myself for so long, and I’ve never really found the right fit or didn’t ask for what I wanted or didn’t have that sort of fateful connection happen yet. And while I know those relationships can be very fraught, whether it’s label or manager, I’m really ready to put the proper team behind what I’m doing simply so we can reach more people with the music. I want it to happen in a natural way, but I’m just hoping I can continue to. And I’m sort of coming back after a long time. And it’s might be a bit of a slow ride, but I’m realizing that my ambition is much greater than I ever thought it was. Again, another thing as a woman is that we’re not really supposed to be like, “I want to take over the world!” But I really want my music to reach everyone.
Isn’t it difficult to relax? Despite summer, and implications of letting stress melt away with the seasons, we all struggle with finding contentment. Ironically, a beautiful song about just that may be exactly what you need to settle into the now. “Older,” off New England singer-songwriter Lina Tullgren‘s debut EP, Wishlist, out on Captured Tracks is about just that. “When you’re a kid, all you want to do is be old. When you’re old, all you want to do is be a kid again,” Tullgren wrote the Fader, who recently premiered the song.
The melancholy new tune “Older” perfectly captures that tragically beautiful feeling of displacement. Take a listen below.
Mother Nature rained heavily down on this year’s Governor’s Ball, which took place on Randall’s Mud Pit Island. It was a test, and us New Yorkers proved that we sure have some spunk, staying true to the festival’s slogan: “You’re doing great!”
I earned personal emblems of a successful music festival: purple bruises made to look like sunsets on my skin, irreparably damaged white Air Force Ones, and an inevitable cold from being wet for the duration of Saturday. The last one, I deserved. That morning, the weatherman and I were adamant that I wouldn’t need a jacket.
Then, there was Sunday’s disappointing full-day cancellation that left legions of fans angry because they traveled x amount of miles to see Kanye or Death Cab for Cutie. When I got the news, I remained motionless on the couch, silently crying the tears I’d have shed at Death Cab’s closing set.
And the biggest curse of a festival, as always, is not being able to be in two places at once. I was sad to have missed Big Grams or another fun show from Matt and Kim because I parked myself at the main stage all of Friday. And even on Sunday while I was camping out for a last-minute Two Door Cinema Club ticket, I was also committed to missing two surely phenomenal performances by Courtney Barnett and Prophets of Rage, both just a walk away.
But I digress. Let’s end this one with some highs, shall we?
The Strokes covered “Clampdown” for the first time since 2004 To be fair, I could peg the whole set as my favorite part of the festival. When I was 11, I used to blast this Clash cover on my iPod, fantasizing that I might one day hear it live. That, and “Red Light,” which they performed for the first time since 2010. Everyone and their mothers know that The Strokes are my favorite band, but even I can objectively say that lately, they haven’t been at their best. However, on the heels of a new EP whose songs fit seamlessly into their set, New York’s finest garage rockers showed that they’ve been revived with a new positive energy. The best feeling was watching the expressions as all five of them performed with unrivaled mastery, looking truly happy to be together.
Getting intimate with Two Door Cinema Club Though it’s been a minute since their last album (almost four years, but who’s counting), 15-year-old me would’ve never forgiven present-day me for skipping Two Door Cinema Club’s make-up show at Music Hall of Williamsburg. Adrenaline distracted me from the cold air and the rain drenching me through my flimsy windbreaker during the four hours I waited out (tip: phone a friend who’d be willing to bring you a lox bagel while you wait. You’ll need it). It proved to be worth it; there surely is no better venue to see a favorite band than one where from every angle, you feel like you’re in the front row. Plus, even through moshing with grown men and crowd surfing during the encore, my glasses survived the night.
Beck being Beck A live Beck experience was yet another realized fantasy from my fleeting youth, ignoring the fact that his breakout hit “Loser” is a couple of years older than me, and “Where It’s At” is less than a year younger; in any case, they all fit seamlessly into one animated set. And during “Hell Yes” I couldn’t help but laugh, overhearing the guy next to me ask, “Is he rapping?” And it’s only been two years since “Blue Moon” reduced me to tears, and only a little more than a month since Prince’s tragic passing. Beck recalled accepting his Album of the Year award and a hug from The Artist himself, which he described as one of the “strangest, most amazing moments.” His cover of “Raspberry Beret” was easily the best of myriad Prince tributes this weekend.
Este Haim getting wet with the crowd Midway through Haim’s set, rain came down yet again. Gratefully, the Gov Ball NYC stage was on cement rather than grass, so mud was the least of our concerns, but that didn’t stop some people in the crowd from seeking shelter in lieu of enjoying the music. Este, the oldest of the Haim sisters, stepped out in between songs to pour a full bottle of water on herself in solidarity before continuing a stellar set that culminated in another fantastic tribute of Prince’s “I Would Die 4 U” and a wild drum finale.
Easy afternoon with Catfish & the Bottlemen Being the perpetually late person that I am, I had to sprint not only across the bridge, but to the complete opposite end of the island to make sure I didn’t miss a minute of Catfish & the Bottlemen on the main stage. They drew a much larger crowd, with more than enough energy to wildly dance along, than one would expect for a 3 pm set. Their set encapsulated exactly what it would’ve felt like to see Blur at a hole-in-the-wall venue in the early ’90s.
A rainy rave with Miike Snow Just after receiving a notification from the official Gov Ball app that the worst was behind us, rain came down yet again for Miike Snow, weeding out the weak and prompting we, the thick-skinned, to go all out. Everything I owned was drenched. The cash in my wallet is still damp as we speak. With feel-good music, a brilliant lights show before us, and nothing to lose, we embraced the feeling of wet skin on wet skin as limbs flailed in the muddy flood. Missed connection: the guy in the tropical print shirt who came back into the crowd with a slice of pizza and let everyone within three feet have a bite.
The best moves from Christine and the Queens I caught Christine and the Queens completely by accident as I made my lap around the island on Friday and saw that someone happened to be getting set up on stage. I’d never heard of her before, but “WOW” wouldn’t even begin to cover my reaction when Christine (real name Heloise Letissier) and her Queens (four male backup dancers) took the stage in trousers and tees, performing synchronized dance routines and tossing flowers into the crowd. Now that’s what a festival performance should be.
Nostalgia with The Killers Wrapped in a wet blanket as my only protection from the cold, I was about to head home midway through M83 as I could feel a sore throat coming on. But, as I made my way out, I could faintly hear The Killers from across the park, and I knew I had to catch a little bit, even if I wasn’t going to immerse myself in the crowd. I was more than happy to dance in the middle of the field with several hundred strangers, singing along to “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine” off of 2004’s Hot Fuss and admiring the fireworks behind the stage to round it all up.
Ryan Egan’s new video for his single “Finest Hour” showcases some groovy dance moves, hypnotizing falsetto vocals, and an overall air of mystery.
The video sees Egan decked out in a white turtleneck showing off simple yet perfected dance moves. Once the chorus hits, some shadowy background figures shimmy out from behind him and bust into their own more fluid moves. It’s the perfect contrast between black vs. white, light vs. shadow, simplistic vs. ornate. And Egan’s airy falsetto only reinforces the video as a mysterious yet enticing piece.
The New York songwriter will be playing a show at Rough Trade on June 16 with Coast Modern. Make sure you check out the video below before catching him in person!
This week’s pick for New Music Monday is SATE‘S “Feel,” off her debut album Redblack&Blue. “Feel” is a raw and swaggering slice of unfiltered rock ‘n’ roll. The brilliantly edited political and powerful music video perfectly accompanies the infectious rock track – hot enough for summer, and brilliant enough to be blasted all year round.
SATE, the Toronto-based rock star with signature mohawk and black lipstick is sure to energize and shake up the end of your workday. Her full-length album will be available this Friday, June 10. For now watch the video for “Feel” below.
Last Superbowl, while Peyton Manning cradled the Lombardi Trophy and showered Budweiser with delicious, beery shout-outs, Jersey boys Billy the Kid and Nickey Knoxx (of Camden and Trenton, respectively) were huddled around their family televisions with baited breath. A music supervisor had more or less greenlighted the duo’s song, “Champion” for use during the annual football bonanza, but as as lives go, those of professional musicians are rife with uncertainty. Plans are made and changed, nary a certitude. At last, they both heard it: their track echoing behind Manning’s words while confetti rained down in Levi’s Stadium. And just like that, Epoch Failure (pronounced epic) turned over a new leaf.
Joanie Wolkoff for AudioFemme: What was that fateful moment like for you guys?
Nickey Knoxx: I was about to give up and zone out cuz the show was wrapping up, but then while Peyton Manning said something about going home and drinking a lot of Budweisers, all of a sudden I heard our song. I definitely lost my shit.
Billy the Kidd: I mean, Superbowl is the mecca of American sports. I’m gonna be honest, I’d been drinking tons with my family and I just teared up.
The American American Dream came true!
Billy the Kidd: We always say we didn’t do too bad for two kids from the inner city.
Nickey Knoxx: When I was growing up, my mom- being from South Carolina- listened to a lot of country and gospel…Dwight Yoakam, Dolly Parton, Travis Tritt, Donnnie McClurkin, James Brown, Reba McEntire… I’m a Brown American. My mother’s Native American and Black and my father’s Black and Puerto Rican with a Jewish-German mom. So, I am the melting pot.
Billy the Kidd: I’m just Puerto Rican, first generation American. My dad’s a South Philly guy, so I grew up on Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Billie Holiday, John Coltrane, a lot of Harlem renaissance swag, also Bellamy Brothers, Earth Wind and Fire, the Bee Gees, Bon Jovi and Metallica. Every Friday my dad would pour a glass of gin, smoke a cigar and listen to the Stones on vinyl for hours.
So you guys cut your milk teeth on American music?
Nickey Knoxx: Definitely. Then, when we started exploring other music in high school it was all hip hop- Biggie, Naz, Wu Tang Clan, Mobb Deep, Tupac, Jay Z. My sister also got me into rock and a lot of Prince.
Billy the Kidd: I loved all the heavy hitters in rap but I also got into punk and pop. It’s just that at the time… well, you can’t tell people in the hood you listen to five white boys singing in harmony. I love Iggy Pop, too. Saliva, Limp Biscuit, Slipknot- I went the rock route.
Your live performances are bursting with kinetic energy. Did seeing any of your influences in concert shape how you carry out your music in front of an audience?
Nickey Knoxx: We go apeshit! After watching all those pop-punk bands growing up, seeing the energy those guys bring to the music- the way they pour their heart and soul into it- that’s what we do. We end up chest-naked.
Billy the Kidd: You could say we get that full blown rock energy combined with the hip hop demeanor. It’s urban pop: full of hooks but still very much blended with hip hop elements, because this is the time we live in. We’ve got a dope drummer- Mad Mike- and our bassist Lowdown Dirty Shane and DJ Big Jay. We’re each other’s hype men.
Is it possible that a band name like Epoch Failure might come across as… anti-hype?
Nickey Knoxx: We’re from the inner city and we’ve been on this musical journey together for four years together. It’s been a new epoch for our failures (laughs)… but we’re gonna make it epic! I’ve lived on both sides of life but it’s what made me and it’s what made Billy. It gave us the drive to see the other side.
What does the other side look like?
Billy the Kidd: Music is a grind. You have to treat everybody you meet like a somebody because you never know what they’re gonna bring to the table. I think young musicians need to know not to quit their day job. If you’re an artist, living by the skin of your teeth can’t work that way…. but as Will Smith said, if you focus too much on plan B, you’ll forget about plan A. The dream is music. To live it, breathe it every day, wake up and do it.
What do you do to supplement your music career?
Nickey Knoxx: I’m a combat photographer in the US Army. Billy is an electrician.
Billy the Kidd: Our day jobs feed our creativity. My work is blue collar- it’s the way I was raised. It motivates me. When I get off of work I’m all dirty and grimy and sweaty and I just want to go home and make the best song ever, so that maybe tomorrow I won’t have to go and get dirty and grimy and sweaty.
Did anyone in particular transmit this wisdom to you?
Billy the Kidd: When I was in seventh grade and my grandfather was ill and on his way out, he said, “Never give up.” Whether you’re making music or in the military or marketing or flipping burgers… be the best fucking burger flipper there is. Have some pride. We were meant to be great in what we do. A guy with a million dollars could have a penny attitude, so stay humble and dream big.
Nickey Knoxx: The best advice I ever got was to floss my teeth and wear underwear. Clean underwear make the world go round.
Brooklyn-based songstress VÉRITÉ creates empowering, emotion-packed music that has a tinge of surrealism, which can best be seen through her latest EP, Living.
The EP kicks off with “Constant Crush,” starting out slowly then steadily building up, both as a song and as a perfect intro to the album. It features Kelsey Byrne’s hauntingly beautiful vocals over an almost dark and foreboding backing. From there it moves onto single “Underdressed,” which tells a vulnerable story shielded by poppy synths and a danceable beat. “Rest” is a perfect midpoint for the EP and is where it changes from a typical synthpop album to one that holds a more eclectic sound. It’s easy to see that Byrne takes inspiration from other genres, like R&B, and weaves that into her tracks “Rest,” “Gesture,” and “Living.” From the beginning of the album to the end, it changes from upbeat singles to a collective piece of varying sounds, showing that Byrne’s isn’t willing to be confined to just one genre.
I was able to sit down and chat with Kelsey for a bit about her new EP as well as her musical influences.
Nicole for AudioFemme: You recently released your EP Living. What were your inspirations behind it?
VÉRITÉ: It’s strange in the writing process because you don’t think that much during it. I think it came together more in the editing process where I was taking moments and hyper-analyzing them and blowing them up. There weren’t any specific inspirations, and it was more me wanting to push myself and elevate myself.
I do a similar thing when writing. Like when I’m editing, it all comes together and seems to make more sense then.
Yes, exactly.
What sort of headspace were you in when you were coming up with the EP? I know you said you didn’t have any specific inspirations or a “Eureka!” moment, but was there anything that led you to these songs?
This was really the first time in my life that I had time to write. It’s an odd struggle to have—the luxury of time. It’s difficult, and there was a lot of anxiety and hyper-analyzing. I was really neurotic about it.
What is your favorite song off the EP?
They’re all my babies. I want to give five different answers. When I wrote Living, it was a good moment for me in life. I wasn’t hiding behind anything, and it really shows when I perform. I love them all.
I had a feeling that was the case! Is there anything you wanted fans to get out of your new EP?
My goal is to have people feel anything. I don’t care what they feel—hopefully it’s not violent anger—but any sort of emotions. I don’t want them to feel nothing.
Do you think your sound has evolved since starting out and the release of your EP?
I hope so. I think that with this EP especially I wanted to move away from “electro-pop.” It’s easy to get lost in the alt pop world. I wanted to really push it sonically. “Gesture” was more laid-back, “Living” is a downtempo R&B style. I was trying to really push it more.
What does your musical history look like? And what brought you to writing and performing?
Performing was always in my nature. I’ve been playing little shows since I was eight or nine when my dad was my band. I lived in a small town in upstate New York, and it was a conducive environment for that. I began writing more at 16 and 17. I developed this probably more into how I want to be interpreted. It’s been a slow process.
If you could collaborate with anyone—living, dead, whatever—who would that be?
Oh shit. Loaded question. Just, so many. I feel like lately my number one is James Blake. I feel like I’m supposed to say The Beatles or something, but based on what I’m listening to right now, I’d have to go with him.
Tell me about your plans for upcoming shows and releases.
Right now it’s just mainly finishing my current tour. Chicago last night was incredible, and I’m going from Minneapolis to Seattle to LA. I’m holding off on doing any festivals this summer and am focusing more on an album. I’m slowly plotting for future plans.
English duo Slow Club are back with a new folksy single, and it’s exactly the sort of song you needed to improve your week.
Slow Club are experts at creating music that helps you slow down and get a little introspective, offering the pause that we tend to be oh-so hesitant to take. And “Ancient Rolling Sea” is no different in that sense. It starts off with a rustic, twangy feel and advances into a classic chilled out Slow Club tune. It primarily sees entrancing vocals from frontman Charles Watson alongside a heavy bassline that’ll reverberate within your core.
They’re currently touring through the UK, and we’re hopeful for an upcoming U.S. tour. For now, get your sway on to “Ancient Rolling Sea” below.
Part French, part Iranian Cocovan disappeared for about a year—leaving her fans in the art and music world wandering through empty social media sites. Then, like the reincarnations of Madonna’s various styles, Cocovan reemerged as the glam-pop empress that she is now. She then released “Mirage Of Us” to rave responses. Yesterday, she put out the video for her brand new single “Chic (Someone To Love.”) And, yes—it’s just as electric. Cocovan is the creative drive behind the new material, directing the one-shot-behind-the-scenes video. Besides a few seconds of her holding a white hula-hoop and taking off her glam-ed-up leather jacket, it’s all her—dancing so gracefully, swishing her perfect short black hair, and posing like a goddess. This song puts me in the highest spirits, while making me feel like I could’ve been the coolest chick in the 80s. Check out her BRAND NEW video and lovely interview with Audiofemme below. You can also listen to her track here. Did I mention that she is also the biggest sweetheart? We LOVE her!
Greetings, love! The femmes are super excited to have you featured on our page!
It’s great to meet you too! And I am equally excited to be featured on Audiofemme, thank you so much for your support!
Q: First off, “Chic” is rotating nonstop, I love it. I’ve been blasting it in my car. I feel like I’m in the movie Drive, and I’m living in an 80s-esque film. If you haven’t seen the movie, I feel like you would totally enjoy it.
Oh thank you! I’m glad to hear that – It makes me happy to think “Chic” is playing somewhere in Brooklyn right now! I love the movie Drive. It’s funny you reference it, because even though I can’t actually drive (I know…), the imagery of driving is somehow a big inspiration to me. While I was writing my EP, I had videos like this one– playing on loop in the studio on a TV while I was writing, as a visual inspiration.
Q: I read that you are influenced by Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Prince. How has it affected your own unique style? (Or any other influences)?
I think it affected me in the way that it liberated me. I can’t find a way to say it without sounding cheesy- but basically to embrace my quirkiness. Beyond the fact that their music and style have inspired me to create my own, all these artists are muses to me- they guide me. My muses motivate me to push myself everyday, to push myself to always try and create better art.
Q. Your recent project was you directing the video for “Chic.” I can’t wait to see it. Can we expect your creative drive in more videos, etc.?
Hehe! The video is out now! I hope you will enjoy it!
I’ve always been very involved in the visual side of my project. From logos, to artworks, to videos… To me, “Cocovan” is both a visual and musical project. In more recent news, I just shot two new music videos for the next singles! I love making videos, eventually I’d love to direct videos for other artists too.
Q. And in your new song, it gives a very confident look into the future of crushed hearts. Does this come from personal experience?
Well, I guess I’m still on the “crushed heart” side for now, I haven’t found “the one” yet. But yes, it absolutely comes from personal experience. I think it’s even harder to find love in the modern dating world. People treat each other like we’re disposable. It’s difficult to find depth. Or maybe it’s just that I’m entering the Sex And The City age! Anyways, I’m convinced there’s a perfect match on this planet for each one of us. So it’s just a matter of time now!
Q. When can we expect “The Club” to be released? And why have you said this EP is your most important yet?
The Club will come out in the fall. This EP is my most important yet because it is my artistic “rebirth”. Indeed I released a first EP in 2012 that I have since taken down from the internet. At the time, I needed to take time to sit at the studio and allow to evolve sonically. So The Club will be the first EP to be released since that break.
Q. Are you coming to the US (mainly NYC) anytime soon? We would love to have a dance party!
I’ll probably be back soon as I always have NYC withdrawals. I miss the 99c pizzas and the JMZ train. You know I have lived in NYC actually? Here’s a list of all the neighborhoods I have lived in in NYC: Lower East Side, East Village, South Williamsburg, Williamsburg, Clinton Hill and Fort Greene (thank you Craigslist). Anyways, I’d love to have a dance party too!
Q. Looks like you love Snapchat. Any favorite filters? And thank you for taking the time out to show us a little bit about you <3
I really love Snapchat, it’s my favorite social media. My snapchat is iamcocovan by the way! Fave filter is the purplish one. I don’t know how to describe this filter, so I figured I’d make a very special exclusive Cocovan x Audiofemme snap just for you guys! See you soon in NYC!
You know what the world has been seriously lacking? New music from Savoir Adore. Well luckily, the dry spell seems to be broken with the latest release of their new single, “Giants.”
In the time since we last saw a lot of activity from the group, there have been some changes, which includes the departure of cofounder Deidre Muro. Fortunately, their music is as electrifying as ever, and you’ll be instantly hooked on this new version of Savoir Adore.
Unsurprisingly, “Giants” lives up to its name and makes a huge impression. The track is full of colossal drums and perky vocals from frontman Paul Hammer. It’s an anthemic jam that’ll have you amped up from start to finish, without any wavering in between. The overall feeling of the song encompasses optimism and embodies an eagerness for the future—or maybe that’s just how we feel waiting for more teasers from their upcoming full-length, The Love That Remains.
Currently the group is planning a brief tour for August with hopefully more dates to be announced. The album drops on August 12, so try to contain your patience for just a few more months!
London-born, Seattle-raised and now here in Brooklyn – songstress Merrily James has a brand new track titled “Another Day” off her upcoming debut EP, “Opia,” set to drop June 3.
Since in Brooklyn, Merrily has collaborated with local favorites such as Brian Kelsey (Parlour Tricks) and Zac Taylor (American Authors) and even shared a stage with industry icons such as Bobby McFerrin and Phillip Bailey (Earth, Wind, & Fire). But we’re going to talk about her here.
“Another Day” is a comfortingly catchy indie pop tune, that along with being an impeccable selection for your summer playlist, shows off more impressive vocals than we’re used to hearing from up and comers. Her talent combined with knack for writing songs, that are delicious as ear candy yet resonate with realities and truth, is sure to secure grand things to come.
Merrily’s EP release show will be held at Rockwood Music Hall Sunday, June 5 with special guest performers Ross Clark from St Lucia and Lily Cato from Parlour Tricks. See you there, and listen to “Another Day” below.
Von Sell’s official video for the track “I Insist” can best be described as strangely beautiful—and yes, that is absolutely a compliment.
The video follows a man who appears to be living in an abandoned building as he attempts to write, trying to please his companion, a stone-faced mannequin. As a seasoned explorer of abandoned buildings, so much of me envies this man’s lifestyle while being simultaneously terrified by it. And that’s a feeling the entire video radiates: It gives you chills, but in a good way.
The man takes breaks from writing to dance around his abandoned building home in a simple choreography that aligns perfectly with the synthy sounds of Von Sell. Each breakdown shows the man dancing it out, seemingly waiting for inspiration to strike. And it does, only once he breaks apart his mannequin friend and throws him piece by piece out the window. With that, the song really picks up its ethereal pace and both video and song become more trippy.
After discarding the mannequin, the man really gets into the zone and is able to finally relax—and can you actually blame him? I don’t think many people would be able to write well with an unblinking face always lurking in the shadows, appearing mysteriously in doorways and just…watching.
Check out Von Sell’s video for “I Insist” above, and keep an eye out for an upcoming tour!
“The Modern Life” is a soundtrack-ready anthem, the shimmering synth-pop tune would work wonders as the credits roll on Girls, or your summer road trip playlist, or late night dance party, musically encompassing the pleasure and pains of millennial existence. Marks, aka, LA-based Lindsay Marcus, writes for TV and film, but with her project Marks – it’s all for her own listeners. “The Modern Life” is the title track from her debut album, which comes out June 3.
“The title track came at a point in the album where I felt like I hit my stride in production,” says Marks of the song. “By the time I got to this song, I realized I was allowing my subconscious to make a lot of the decisions with the lyrics. To me, it felt like an honest way of songwriting. While I may listen to the song now and realize it’s about something specific, it might mean something completely different to the listener and I love that.”
As your Monday descents into evening, spines uncurl from desk chairs, and you’re allowed to go where you want to be, allow Jinn Grin to ease the transition with the title track of his forthcoming EP, “The Answer.”
Jinn Grin is the solo project of Doug Stuart. Like a Hindu god or some sort of arachnid, Stuart has many (metaphorical) arms, which he make use of musically. If his name sounds familiar, it’s likely from his work playing bass for The California Honeydrops, Bells Atlas, or recent work as keyboardist for Astronauts, etc. Yet even many-armed gods and spiders need some me time, which is why Stuart took some to focus on his own vision – and in doing so gifted us with “The Answer.” Meditative yet energizing, it’s a celestial track perfect to take the office edge off and begin the passage home.
Eskimeaux‘s show alongside Free Cake For Every Creature, Claire Cottrill, and Lady Pills on Thursday, May 12 was about 50 percent concert, 50 percent social gathering, and 100 percent what you would expect to find in Somerville, Massachusetts. The venue itself is a site worth visiting: Its upstairs restaurant has arcade machines and tables you might expect to find at your grandma’s birthday party, and its downstairs performance venue will make you feel like you’re in your friend’s basement.
True to the name of the last opener, there was free cake for everyone (with “free cake” written in icing), and people sat on the floor to eat it. The beard-to-face ratio and Birkenstock-to-foot ratio in the audience were off the charts even for a town known as the Boston area’s hipster central. The four acts were all similar in a few ways: They consisted entirely of or at least were fronted by women, and their visual and musical aesthetic were a bit twee but a bit rough around the edges.
The first act to take the stage, Lady Pills, was one of the best. With lo-fi, grungy instrumentals, vocals reminiscent of The Cranberries, and sardonic yet sweet lyrics like “everyone’s so stupid. I just want to make out with you,” the band projects an image that’s simultaneously cuddly and sassy. Next, soloist Claire Cottrill filled the room with a softer and simpler sound, conjuring a childlike purity in songs like “Bubble Gum” with the refrain, “I swallowed the bubble gum.”
Then, Free Cake For Every Creature brought the energy back up. Lead singer Katie Bennett took a playful tone a bit reminiscent of The Moldy Peaches in songs like “For You,” with the lyrics: “for you, I’d write a shitty poem on the wall of a dressing room at JC Penny,” and almost whispered her way through songs like the sentimental “First Storm of the Summer,” which evoked the sound of raindrops on a roof.
The main act, Eskimeaux, is the solo project of singer-songwriter and producer Gabrielle Smith. Unlike the other, more garage-like sounds in the lineup, Smith’s voice and accompanying instrumentals were crisp. Folk tunes like “I’ll Admit I’m scared” conjured The Finches, especially since Smith’s voice is a lot like Carolyn Pennypacker Riggs’s, but she sounded more like Mirah in higher-paced, danceable numbers like “Broken Neck,” for which her bandmates and the audience sang along. My only criticism of their act is that each song seemed to end a bit too soon and abruptly.
The evening’s bookends — Lady Pills and Eskimeaux — were the highlights, while Free Cake For Every Creature and Claire Cottrill were less infectious fillers. Across the board, though, all four acts projected a contagious excitement, perhaps because they were celebrating the release of both Eskimeaux’s latest album Year of the Rabbit and Free Cake for Every Creature’s Talking Quietly of Anything With You on April 15. It felt like the crowd was not just the audience in a show but also a group of supporters sharing in a celebration, and it felt like something special to be one of them.
A gorgeously disorientating chasm of black holes and white ones, A Moon Shaped Pool is a deeply personal, impermeable eruption. Radiohead does not depart from their signature marriage of mathematical chaos and dismembered romanticism, rather expand beyond it with a new fragility that elicits life, death, and the endless versions of self trapped between the atmosphere. With their collective angst and existential inquisition still intact, Radiohead’s vulnerability takes magnetic and celestial form with A Moon Shaped Pool:Less voyeuristic, more confessional. Less teeth, more blood. A remarkable testament to the tortured beauty of Thom Yorke’s choral vocal dance paired with Jonny Greenwood’s immaculate collaboration with the London Contemporary Orchestra, their ninth studio album proves that Radiohead has successfully monopolized cohesion. They have not run out of things to say nor ways to say them – and they certainly have not exhausted ways to make us feel something. Arguably the most important collection in their nine album, 24 year career, A Moon Shaped Pool patiently pulls back the skin on love, exposing the very universe Radiohead has prepared us for all along.
The album’s opener, “Burn The Witch” is physically unsettling and darts with operatic anxiety like night rain on a moving windshield. Released just days before the album, “Burn The Witch” feels like an elusive lark in context to the complete picture. For those who assumed “Burn The Witch” would reflect how the rest of the album would sound, you were somewhat wrong. Radiohead, in true Radiohead fashion, gave us a glimpse of the ending and put it at the beginning. “This is a low flying panic attack” Thom Yorke warbles against Jonny Greenwood’s lush, jutting orchestration of strings that stab and sway with equal force. “Burn the witch/we know where you live” preys on Radiohead’s politically charged fears, addressing glaring truths with disarming poetry.
As “Burn the Witch” comes to a heart-racing halt, “Daydreaming” swoops down and induces a different breed of panicked consonance. Its shimmery underwater pulse is dizzying, though never clumsy and Yorke’s ethereal, marble-mouthed vacancy is overflowing with tender exploration. For a song so achingly devoid of hope, “Daydreaming” manages to find a divine spectral beauty that is reserved for sensations as consequential as the loss of love or even the death of a parent. Is it a break-up song? Possibly. Although it feels crude to reduce it to what seems like a tabloid buzz word. “Daydreaming” is a stumbling soundscape of time and vast archives of memory, even moving in reverse repeating the fan-speculated decoding of the lyrics “Half of my life, half of my life.”
It is after these two very different tastes of melancholy that the album swells into what could be a dystopian funeral for 2007’s In Rainbows and the estranged lover of “Codex” off of 2011’s underrated King Of Limbs. “Identikit”feels like the sequel toKid A‘s “Idioteche” where the “Women and children first” have been absorbed into “Broken hearts/Make it rain” and “Ful Stop” could be an adjacent ocean to Rainbows’ “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” both with the rapid chit-chit sound of Philip Selway’s drums. But even with these scattered comparisons to their catalog, A Moon Shaped Pool stands completely on its own and very much alone. “Desert Island Disk” finds a unique moment of ethereal twangy mountain folk paired with a crooning Yorke anchored to a matter-of -factness through the lyrics “Different types of love” and “You know what I mean” and taps into feels Neil Young-esque territory. Whereas “The Numbers” follows a slinking, almost seductive trajectory that drifts into “Present tense” a peaceful cry of sand shifting pop. A Moon Shaped Pool’s textural landscapeis by no means indecisive rather resonates as not-of-this-world and blushes with a concrete unity.
A stirring conclusion to an emotionally taut album, “True Love Waits” is reincarnated here as a tragically serene plea in which shimmering piano and comet tail strings wrap around Yorke’s crumbling echo. For a song that has been a fan favorite for 20 years, “True Love Waits” finally finds a home with unearthed resolve. With what could be considered Radiohead’s love song (of which, in some ways, there are many, but few have found a direct line to the guttural collapse of having loved the way this song does). “I’m not living/ I’m just killing time” Yorke confesses, surrounded by a disjointed fluttering of keys and an unintelligible rolling static that imitates the distant sound of fire burning. As a final and desperate call to love, he begs “Just don’t leave/ don’t leave” in what could easily be the most delicately bruised version of Radiohead we have ever met. But it is with that plea that we are the ones who are left. A hauntingly resonant exit and acknowledgment of finality, loneliness and longing, “True Love Waits” finds a way to say so much with so little and leaves us traumatized with self reflection. A Moon Shaped Pool is a beautifully perilous journey, and even up until the very last whisper we are painfully reminded that some things are worth the wait.
Watch the Paul Thomas Anderson directed video for Daydreaming below:
Beyond the Wizards Sleeve, the psychedelic “sonic brotherhood” of electronic stars Erol Alkan and Richard Norris, have announced a debut album The Soft Bounce coming out July 1. Fresh off that album is the single “Diagram Girl” and accompanying video, the first in what will be a series of films complementing the album.
“Diagram Girl” is a cool, dreamy track that will melt into your day like a deep breath or a cup of lavender tea. Electronic music that fills the air like a hazy ambient cloud, if you’re feeling the jagged edges of your Monday, slip into this track to take the edge off.
“What if I don’t feel anything?” This is the only thing on my mind when “Burn the Witch” was released Tuesday morning, the first song from Radiohead’s imminent ninth album and their first release since 2011’s King of Limbs. While Radiohead was busy meticulously erasing their website and social media presence, I wrestled the forces of expectation and the overflow of noise that filled this Radiohead-less five year gap. I have been primed by the ominously poetic gestures of the past enough times to know very well that Radiohead’s disappearing act on Sunday was not a self-indulgent white flag rather the benevolently habitual signaling of an alarm. They warned us, as they often do.
As rich in disruptive, dystopian commentary on societal atrocity and the extinction of the individual as “Burn the Witch” is, it is just as profoundly relevant in what it doesn’t address: the swollen negative space. When Thom Yorke sleepily instructs “Shoot the messenger,” I can’t help but think he has us collectively pegged as both the hunter and the hunted. This is Radiohead’s signature grandiose apocalypse reimagined.
The steady building seizure of strings dance between a sun-drenched reincarnation and a Hitchcock-ian shower stabbing, resuscitating Radiohead’s kinship with symphonic depravity. “Burn the Witch” elicits an internal strangulation that both induces a nightmare and lulls you back to sleep once you’ve stopped screaming.