Album: Walden – Funeral For A Band
Faced with their possible demise – this Denver-based atmospheric rock band may well have made the music of their lives.
Faced with their possible demise – this Denver-based atmospheric rock band may well have made the music of their lives.
On their first full-length album, the Sydney band explore femininity, balancing transcendence and immanence in both the lyrics and music.
This is a terrain with gapings of stomach-dropping reminders. This is a landscape with the remains of a waiting room. This is a call to cope with the splayed guts of an extracted grief. This is a flash with dapples of fast-acting yet fleeting hope. This eponymous record by Rolling Boxcar International is a wound rope revealing itself slowly to show that what you thought was a noose is actually a lasso.
The Nashville emo group’s third album shows even more polish, even as they grapple with growth, everyday minutia, and making the same mistakes.
Eliza opens up about the creation of Death Drive, balancing fun, grief, and hope, and playing new songs live after a touring hiatus.
Gimpleg curates forty-eight ska bands from around the world for a compilation benefiting People In Peril and built around the idea of community.
Nowhere Fast is an album that journeys in and out of times, places, and mental states.
Eleven new songs from Devon Kay & The Solutions tackle the story of an artist chasing fame, treading on ideas of collective morality and the contradictory nature of individualism.
If there was ever a band worth exploring, Mutiny is that band. They are incredibly talented at everything they do.
Bailey’s second album drifts between romantic yearning, obsession, and elation with a sound fit for chilly fall evenings curled up on the couch.
The South Carolina-born and Brooklyn-based songwriter explores yearning, manifestation, and the serenity to accept the things they cannot change on her new album.
The Chicago band processes grief, mortality, and memory on their (sort-of) debut post-punk album.
Paige Su’s new album opens up a memory box to explore finding light in dark times, pushing through pain, and finding the strength to start again.
You have to listen to all of the album to find out: No one can promise to make it better. No one can promise to make it feel real. No one can make you remember who you are.
This stark, brooding world will draw you in until you find yourself fully immersed in it. Dark at times, yet always beautiful.
Expanding on their powerful indie sound with Southern twang and skewed vocals, the Boston-area trio examines the full spectrum of emotion on their second album.
Cold Wrecks has a special way of delivering a heavy heart; their lyrics feel inviting to an audience that covets big emotions.
Longing can breed hope. But it can also drive you to the brink of giving up entirely. Somewhere in between the two lies the bittersweetness of waiting. And waiting can loosen the cruelty of time. Or so Shye implies.
There is little to say about what the album tells you, but a lot to say about the way it makes you feel.
Littered with highlights and teeming with talent, and with countless classic rock-and-roll references, this album and band know no bounds.