Demon Slayer

 

The Blue Herons

Demon Slayer

(Shelflife)

I’ve received constructive criticism a few times over the years about my style of album write ups.  When I write them, I almost always tie them into my personal life.  I understand this critique and feel it deeply.  My efforts to change have not gone very well however, because I find it incredibly difficult to separate my love of music from my own experiences and emotions.  Nearly every memory I have is tied to what music was in my life during those times.  Besides, I find that my writing skills are not creative enough to write an interesting clinical straight forward review.  So, I simply do what I do and hope that I can convince a person to support my limited recommendations, and that I do not bore them with my asides and needless anecdotes.

Demon Slayer, the second long player by the intercontinental duo The Blue Herons is the perfect example of why I struggle to extract music from my own life, and why I become excited to share their incredible music with anyone and everyone I happen to encounter.  This album has come at a perfect time for me – like an ambulance rushing to a devastating car crash.  Over the past couple of years I have been focused intently on improving my health after the prior 25 years of very severe medical issues.  This focus has had several speed bumps along the way, as I’ve tried to take advantage of every therapy I can access, but I feel like I’m seeing the positive results from my hard work, only to feel like it’s being taken away by bureaucracy and nasty politics.  I feel like I am describing the title track from this album, “Demon Slayer” (“you gotta get up and go / you gotta slay those demons / before they deprive you of hope”). 

 For maybe the first time in my life, I’ve been trying to accept and learn how to open myself up to the world and allow others to see what’s really going on with me.  I’m done with trying to be stoic and unshakable.  I’m tired of refusing offers of help.  It’s a lonely existence and I’m feeling that.  Man, am I FEELING that, and this album helps assuage those black holes.  This amazing collection of songs are really about the ephemeral fiber that makes us all who we are as individuals and the power of honestly recognizing our own needs and wants – the very thing I’ve been neglecting for most of my life.  It’s that stuff between the purely biological physical being and the conscious mind that, for so many of us, sabotages so much of what we actually stand for.  How many times have you said something that you’ve regretted?  It’s as though there’s a layer to all of us that we all know and can recognize, but it’s an intangible.  Am I talking out my ass?  I think this is where so much of our likes and dislikes come from.  Why are some people so especially attractive to us beyond their physical attributes?  This is a realm where love and music lie.  This is where The Blue Herons thrive.

Gretchen DeVault’s words here are intensely personal.  Her vocals are wonderfully effervescent and musical and she has an incredible knack for turning a phrase into a magical earworm, but damn there’s a profoundness and intensity here that belies the breezy beauty of these addictive songs.  Andy Jossi’s musicianship is unbelievably intricate and impressive, as his knack for drama fits these songs perfectly by providing the proper depth they deserve.  

The emotional high comes early for me as the double feature of “Silent” and “Fight or Flight” appear as tracks three and four landing in the first third of the LP.  These two songs find the Blue Herons stretching out their abilities and style into a more melancholy sound.  Though it does not sound like The Sundays, “Silent” reminds me of one of their finest achievements: “Goodbye.”  It’s in the way they are both built on acoustic guitar strums, stratospheric arpeggios and a burbling bassline.  I really identify with the chorus of “Silent” as DeVault majestically pleads to “please let me off this ride / ‘cause I’ve lost myself / in these lows and highs.”  There’s a spine tingling power in her desire to stop from being overwhelmed.  I think a lot of us have been feeling those lows and highs and nothing in between for a long time now making the emotional core of “Silent” that much more effective.  Here is my one nitpick:  “Silent” should not fade out.  This is where Andy’s penchant for spectualr explosive finales is required!  I would gladly revel in an extended stretch here.  Speaking of emotion, “Fight or Flight” quietly builds from a gentle reference of blue skies to storm clouds on the horizon.  This song is about fear and dread as it swells and surges with appropriate turbulence.  Jossi has endowed the music with a cinematic drama that reminds me of the bitter apex of “Polaroids” by the all-time great Kitchens of Distinction and when the celestial peaks here DeVault emotionally begs to be able to “stay” – to keep safe from those storm clouds, whether figurative from so much divisiveness currently running through our collective veins or literally as more and more of us are being struck by “natural” disaster.  Those storm clouds could be anything that scare us, and when she sings the closing chorus refrain “is there any way to stay / to hold it all in / or to push it all away,” we can feel the fear like a rush of overwhelming emotion that suddenly bursts into our nose and eyes. 

Demon Slayer opens with the perfect pop of “Take a Break,” which is so catchy that it immediately begs to be heard over and over.  The patience preached in the song is a valuable lesson for all of us as, just as is the lesson of perseverance of “Demon Slayer.” 

“Promises” is a dreamy acoustic song that addresses our inherent individualness versus our need for companionship.  The ‘promise’ being that we hope we will find another half to our being, but realizing that we are inherently alone: “It’s a solitary sadness / a bittersweet refrain.”. “Decay” reflects back to good times and worries that those may not be felt again.  Meanwhile, the fantasy of “Willow” is a warm embrace of the power of love and how its highs can make us so desperate to make the feeling last forever, and then the defiant “My Way” finds power, freedom, and solace in ending a relationship and moving forward on one’s own.

The closing two songs “Turned to Stone” and “Empty Spaces” both rival the emotional high marks mentioned earlier.  I wrote about the Covid isolation infected “Turned to Stone” (one of 2025’s greatest songs!) last year and its well-worn deep sadness and loss still cuts deep, all while still charming with a sing along accessibility, and a hummable bass-line.  “Empty Spaces” is a closing mournful epic that is the sadness of the previously feared storm clouds and decay and sinks deep into mourning and loss, which are tangible and heavy.

I think the immaculate crystalline music and production on Demon Slayer boosts these songs and elevates them beyond mere dream pop or indie pop directly to greatness.  Yes, there’s a lot to like here while bopping around.  The melodies are indescribably fantastic, and yet they are grounded with drama and feeling.  This is not superfluous.  This is important.  The lesson I’ve learned from this collection of songs is that being vulnerable and open is a strength and though it may open one up to harsher lows, it can bring bigger highs, but it’s still good to take a break and take care.  That openness is perfectly reflected by Jossi's 4AD/Vaughan Oliver/Chris Biggs inspired cover art depicting a hairless cat evoking the nakedness of vulnerability.  It’s difficult to believe that these two have never actually met in person, because the music they create is so perfect.  Please do not miss this. 

(https://theblueherons1.bandcamp.com/album/demon-slayer)

The Blue Herons "Fight or Flight"

Willow

 

the blue herons

“Willow”

(Shelflife)

Andy Jossi is a master at creating musical drama.  His long slow-building dreamy epics from his work with the churchhill garden put him at the forefront of “shoegaze,” and more recently, his instrumentation for the blue herons with more concise pop structures we find him still creating intense swells of sound.  His guitars jangle and chime in a similar timeless fashion as 80s Church (“Almost with You”), but no one has done the explosive swells of noise in the way that he does - at least not since the massive spectacular crescendos that Kitchens of Distinction used to employ. 

With “Wllow,” the blue herons’ latest single, we find Jossi appropriately settling into a more wistful almost melancholy sound.  Gretchen DeVault’s pleasant voice floats in atop the chiming guitars and mid-range bass with words that describe a lovely dream world of connecting with another.  That charge of new romance where that high is all that matters and the rest of the world drifts away.  It’s a place that we all wish for yet seems impossible to maintain.  Perhaps that’s why the escapist lyrics (“Nobody can find us here/ We’re beyond the outer limits / Lost in vivid dreaming / And we’re gone”) feel melancholic to me.  As if there’s a longing sadness – a yearning for these feelings while trying to navigate an especially difficult time.

Whatever the case, when DeVault sings the chorus (“When you’re touching my hand / I lose all sense of space/  I’m in another world / Lost without a trace) I’m pretty sure that she is one of the best at phrasing any set of words into a compelling vocal melody.  I was a fan of both of these artist’s work before they began working together, but I never could have imagined that this work could be this consistently excellent!  This song puts me into another world where all good things exist, and to be honest, I want to be there right now in the most intense way.  The lyrics themselves may be the best descriptive of how this song can make you feel while listening (“I float outside of time / I’m in another world”).

The anticipation of the upcoming April 3^rd release of their new album Demon Slayer is immense.  Please consider pre-ordering the album as soon as possible.  It’s going to be worth it.  This kind of artistry and quality is rare.

(https://theblueherons1.bandcamp.com/album/demon-slayer)

the blue herons "willow"

Turned to Stone

The Blue Herons

“Turned to Stone”

(self-released)

Every so often songs come into our lives that stand out from the rest.  There are many reasons for this: like it has to withstand repeated listens and be catchy, and/or it has to speak to us as individuals in a way that begs for those repeated listens.  For me, right now, that song is “Turned to Stone” by the bi-continental duo The Blue Herons.  At 2024 years’ end, I sang their praises via a breakdown of their singles compilation Go On (see review here).  And here they are picking up with a recent single that is as good as they’ve ever done, which is an incredibly high bar.

Andy Jossi’s music never ceases to astound!  He is a master of layering immaculately performed instrumentation together both in dreamy, languid, and broad paint strokes, and effervescent detailed touches that nearly always climax in satisfying dramatic crescendos.  “Turned to Stone” is the latter here and it absolutely impeccably sets an emotional foundation for Gretchen DeVault’s yearning vocals.  They’ve both so captured such a tight bond in this song, it’s difficult to believe that this was put together remotely. 

On the surface this song can be taken quite literally.  A heavy hearted plea for the seasons to change and hoping for the darkness of winter to transition to the longer, warmer, and sunnier days of Spring and Summer.  Personally DeVault’s words have hit me hard.  I am currently in a period of an intense health struggle, where I’ve been taking a chemo drug to prevent tumor growth, and the side effects of that drug are preventing me from being able to live a purposeful and enjoyable existence.  The chorus goes:

“Long days are gone

From the horizon now

The winds grow so strong

They could blow it all away” 

First of all, when hearing this song, I dare you not to get this refrain stuck in your head in the best possible way.  DeVault’s voice soars and arrests hearts with her brilliant performance.  For me, these words present the dilemma I’ve been wrestling with.  The long days could be gone if I give them up in order to feel stronger, while those strong winds could blow away the three years of hard work I’ve put in on the drug, which has indeed stopped the rampant tumor growth that was occurring in my head.  This song has helped me address this quandary and face the hard reality of my situation.  Wow!  I get chills every time I hear it, which is as often as possible!

On a macro scale, I also feel like this song is a perfect distillation of our times now in a post-Covid (or post-fll in the blank here) world.  We are all a few years out of the intense lockdown, but I’m not sure that many of us have really recovered.  It seems like there are many scars left that have not yet healed, even if unacknowledged or recognized.  Perhaps I’m paranoid, but it feels like there’s a lot more mistrust in our society that is not only between individuals and institutions (government, corporations, media, etc.), and more troubling between us as individuals (neighbors, friends, family).  These are things that have always existed, yet it seems now like they are conflicts that our unplanned isolation has driven an insurmountable wedge into our lives.  Our “heavy hearts have turned to stone.”  I believe that this song is a plea as well as a wish or an instruction for us to get over all of this shit and let optimism and cooperation back into our lives.

If only this song could be heard by a lot more people. However one interprets it for themselves, it is an incredible four-plus minute song worth more than notice and acclaim.  This is a truly affecting piece of art that I feel privileged to listen to.  I hope to see you all waiting “for the sun to rise again.”

(https://theblueherons1.bandcamp.com/track/turned-to-stone)

 

 

the blue herons "turned to stone"

 

 

immediately and without hesitation

 

rocket rules

immediately and without hesitation

(self-released)

One of the joys I get from music is that I never know what might come along and sweep me off my feet.  Sometimes it’s a long time favorite releasing new music that rivals their previous best going back decades, yet sometimes those don’t always pan out.  Sometimes it’s an artist that never clicked with me suddenly becoming a new obsession.  Most often, it’s a new artist that comes along and re-ignites the ole’ pilot light.  Melbourne’s two piece, rocket rules, have released their second EP, only six months after their debut self-titled EP, and they have me typing up a bunch of nonsensical words urging a non-existent audience to check out this music!

“add up all the chances” opens these three songs and immediately whooshes in with the effervescence of Spain’s Linda Guilala with the catchy pop tunes of Sacramento’s Soft Science.  It’s seriously addictive.  I cannot stop repeating “add up” every time I listen.  It’s that unholy merging of chiming guitars and keyboards that heavy hands its way to the front of the song giving it a rushing momentum that breathes new life into these old lungs.  The sing-along words too hit in the right place.  “Everything has changed but feels the same” feels especially poignant as this song reminds us that our time is limited and to make the most of it and to protect our sanity.   The chorus asks us “Will you know, the day you break?”  Good question right?  The likelihood seems like ‘no,’ because we’re broken, which may be the point.  Stay vigilant!

That electric thrust of sound energy pulsates through the heavy “the weight.”  In this case it provides the song with a certain gravitas and drama, foreshadowing dark clouds brewing on the horizon.  But you know what?  That dominating sound never fails to catch my attention.  The song could last forever and it would never get old.  The thumping slow beat of “draynor village” provides a reflective mix of conflicting emotions.  The crashing cymbals during the chorus are perfectly placed as the narration debates their level of trust in this situation. It’s surprisingly brief close to a great short player.

It’s difficult to believe these songs are ‘bedroom’ recordings, because this EP sounds live and alive in every way.  Rach and Bax have definitely stepped up their musical game from their solid debut. 

(https://rocketrules.bandcamp.com/album/immediately-and-without-hesitation)

rocket rules "add up all the chances"

And Finally . . . In This Space and Time

 

Sophie and Me

And Finally . . . In This Space and Time

(Self – Released digital)

Wowza!  This three song single kicked off 2025 in spectacular fashion and it’s a soothing balm in the face of 2025 otherwise starting off like a tragic nightmare.  These songs have created a melancholy orchestral drama to help guide us through these rough times. 

I became aware of Sophie and Me late last summer via a four song B-side collection named Who Cares B-Sides, which is so great that it amazed me that these dream poppers would share them almost as an afterthought.  These are fully developed excellent songs.  They’ve released a few more singles since, and the quality remains high.  They are quickly becoming a favorite!  This newest release, the digital single on Bandcamp And finally…In This Space and Time, is described as forgotten unfinished tracks.  However these three songs are all epic emotional vistas.   

The nearly seven minute “We Are One (Part I & II)” opens this with an incredibly dramatic journey that takes us through lows and highs of a relationship as the music swells and builds into buzzing guitars and crashing drums, while a comforting keyboard hook soothes us back into a quiet reflective finale, where Sophie Brightman’s sweet voice finds solacby assessing the situation through a lens of being in the moment, and realizing that those highs and lows all can balance out.  It’s a remarkable journey and a brilliant timeless song.

“Change the World” is the pop song of these three with its piano led breaks between choruses.  It’s a hopeful and positive message and a fun listen.

Lastly, “When I Go Back” is another quiet drama whose instrumental buildup (with keyboards that remind of Pink Floyd’s keyboardist Richard Wright on Dark Side of the Moon) pays off with a meandering beat and a restless reflection of the inherent conflicts with returning to a former home.  Javier Manriquedelara’s instrumentation is a revelation, as everything is in its right place.

When I purchased this, I did so unheard.  The quality of the previous release earned them that, so when I first listened, I was floored by its excellence.  The emotional depth of the songs here is achingly beautiful.  Once you hear them, you’ll know what I mean.  My silly words do not do these songs any justice.  This has to be listened to. 

(https://sophieandme.bandcamp.com/album/and-finally-in-this-space-and-time)

Sophie and Me "We Are One (Parts I & II"

A Pleasant Journey

 

Copperplate

A Pleasant Journey

(Self-released)

Lauren Grace is Copperplate from Georgia.  Lauren has been busy.  Since May of this year, Copperplate has loaded Bandcamp with three albums with another one due on September 20^th.  I’ll be honest, it’s too much for me.  I am old and incredibly have become even more thick-headed over time, so music takes its time seep through.  When I was younger, I could hear an album once and have pretty much all of the song titles memorized, know a lot of the lyrics, and bizarrely, maybe even the exact length of songs.  Forty years later, I have forgotten all of those things, and struggle to absorb new music.  There is a real danger of me purchasing songs more than once.  I have to be careful!  In the case of Copperplate, I am just now grasping this third digital only collection A Pleasant Journey, and have yet to explore the first two options and am trying to prepare for the upcoming one (Contentment).  From what I’m gathering is that Copperplate is incapable of writing a subpar song.

A Pleasant Journey is definitely in store for those who enjoy dreamy indie pop.  These intimate recordings are full of meticulous cleanly plucked guitar chimes and jangles (hinting at early Ocean Blue), over a hazy base of quiet vocals and other instrumentation.  If pressed to compare, Copperplate lands somewhere between Seattle’s Sea Lemon (especially on the ultra-catchy “Oh Okay,” and its jaunty bass-line) and San Francisco’s Tanikichan.  Lauren has a knack for memorable choruses and I love the guitar work throughout - a sound that instills reflection, and daydreams of rain clouds on the horizon.  “Preoccupy,” has a booming low end that is incredibly appealing, while “Grand Central” ruminates over our limited time lines in a warm way that reminds me of Depeche Mode’s “Here is the House.”

I’m pretty sure that Copperplate can write, record, and mix an entire album of consistent high quality songs faster than I can fully consume them.  Speaking of which, Copperplate has removed the earlier releases from their Bandcamp page, so be sure to check out A Pleasant Journey as quickly as you can, and get ready for the next album in a few weeks! 

(https://copperplatemusic.bandcamp.com/album/a-pleasant-journey)

Copperplate "Preoccupy"

Lines

 

Soft Science

Lines

(Shelflife)

Ever since I was lucky enough to find Soft Science’s debut album, High and Lows, in 2011, I have been unabashedly in love.  Their fourth album, Lines, has now been out for about a month and it only affirms my continuing passion for their music.  The occasion has also provided me with the unnecessary excuse to go back and listen closely to their previous offerings.  What I’ve learned with this re-discovery tour is that they are actually better than I remembered, and that what I wrote about their second LP, 2014’s Detour: “in a subtle way they have tightened all the unnoticed loose screws and polished the surface,” amazingly holds true!  They continue to refine.

Lines plays like a legendary band’s best of/singles collection.  Their dreamy songs here lean more towards radio ready pop singles (is that a thing anymore?), and personally, I think that’s their biggest strength.  With their urgent and endlessly catchy song “Still,” my favorite song from their 2018 third album, Maps, Soft Science found the key to what sounds like effortless greatness. 

The melodic lead guitar line to “Grip,” along with the insistent bassline and Katie Haley’s perfect vocals, get me wanting to dance and completely lose myself in the amazing sounds.  It continues on from there.  “Deceiver” is like a favorite single I swear I already knew upon first listen (is that a cowbell?).  All three pre-LP singles are here: the buzzing “Sadness,” the rumbling, almost House of Love-like (Butterfly cover) “Kerosene,” and my early favorite “True,” with its words of betrayal.

With each album, Soft Science have included more keyboards which, instead of distracting or compromising their sound, has emphasized and enhanced what they already do well.  Somehow it has made their sound both more spacious and dense at the same time.  Songs like the heavy opener “Low” and its matching bookending closer “Polar,” along with the almost atonal saturation of “Stuck” and the dreamscape of “Zeros,” all remind me a little bit of excellent Spanish indie poppers Linda Guilala and their psychedelic overloads.

It is incredibly satisfying to see Soft Science getting so much attention for their new album!  Sadly, in this day and age, I don’t really know what that means.  We can all create our own little media focus, so I fully realize that I see Soft Science news, and most people likely do not.  I hope this changes.  I wish them great success and encouragement to keep our lives filled with their great music.  If you are not familiar with Soft Science and their lovable music, I strongly urge you to check them out for yourself.  All of their albums are a great place to start. 

 (https://softscienceband.bandcamp.com/)

Soft Science "True"

The Sun is in Our Eyes

 

UJU

The Sun is in Our Eyes

(Melt)

There is some kind of scientifically enhanced surgery going on with how precisely this collection of songs tugs at my heartstrings.  The Sun is in Our Eyes is melodramatic and depicts the romanticism of past love in a very unreal light.  I know we’d all like to believe that from our past there’s the one perfect match that got away, but the reality is generally far different.  There’s commonly a very good reason they are no longer a big part of our life.  Yet, for some reason, it’s very powerful to look back into our pasts and overly romanticize a stolen kiss at summer camp and the delightful innocence of it all.

Firstly, I need to thank DJ Krissy Vanderwoude for this, because she played a song by UJU on her radio show, Drowned in a Sea of Sound. a couple of weeks ago.  I cannot contain my enthusiasm for this album!  This is one of those: ‘was this made for me?’ sort of albums.  Okay, I have to slow down.  UJU is from the Philipines and The Sun is in Our Eyes is their second album.  I do not have much prior experience with Filipino bands, other than going nuts over Julie Plug’s sparkling bright debut Starmaker way back in 1998/99.  UJU do share Julie Plug’s incredible pop sensibilities, but instead of the overt chiming pop rock of JP, UJU explores a dreamier approach.  In fact, the first few songs remind me heavily of the quiet approach of that first EP by The Arrogants.  There’s a simplicity to the songs that really helps set a particular reflective mood.  Much like the power of Robert Wratten’s songwriting, and more specifically, during the brief Northern Picture Library period.  There’s an ambient atmosphere combined with nakedly emotional lyrics that pretty much wins me over every time 

Early single, “Promises,” borrows the guitar melody from New Order’s amazing “Leave Me Alone,” (full overly melodramatic disclosure: pretty much any evening during my high school years, I was probably listening to “Leave Me Alone” with an intense desperation wanting everyone to leave me alone, despite the fact that they did - especially the girls.  Of course, it isn’t until the spectacular sixth song, “Anywhere, Everywhere,” that a burst of Adorable’s “Sunshine Smile” type guitars sprawls out like a splash of bright color.  The album takes a much more shoegazey turn, sound-wise, the rest of the way, especially, the epic crashing wave that is the title track..  There’s a foggy atmospheric haze to many of these songs that reminds of Singapore’s motifs, or Australia’s Lowtide.  However, Leeju Jung’s vocals are an entirely different game here.  She does not blend her voice in like another instrument like so many shoegaze artists.  She really sings, but she does not fall into that dreadful American Idol-style of oversinging.  Instead, songs such as the bouncy, “We Should’ve Walked, but We Ran,” feel like something sung by Rachel Mayfield’s former band, Delicious Monster. 

There are so many great songs here that pull those emotional strings!  “Summer’s Gone and so Are You,” I mean C’MON?!!  Then there’s the intensely exciting instrumental “Was it the Sound of a Car Crash, Broken Glass, or the Moments I’ll Never Get Back?” which paints a dramatic picture, where words would be too much.  The closing “I’ll Be Alright (I’m Still Here)” is repetitive, but undeniably pretty and reassuring and romantic as hell.

Yesterday morning, after listening to this album over and over about a half dozen times, and deciding that I wanted to write about it, I learned that UJU is now taking a “hiatus.”  I guess it’s a good thing that there’s another album to discover!

(https://meltrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-sun-is-in-our-eyes)

UJU "THe Sun is in Our Eyes"

What Happens After

Laveda

What Happens After

(Color Station)

 

What Happens After is really the question isn’t it?  What happens after we’ve endured the horrifying Trump presidency, after the pandemic, after the media shifts its focus away from all of the Black Lives Matter protest marches for justice, after yet another war, or religious sanctioned genocide, after the planet’s atmosphere turns to carbon monoxide and cooks much of the life on the surface and in the sea?  What a mess we’ve made of things.  It feels like we, as a whole, never learn from our collective mistakes.  We really can’t seem to get along.  We really can’t seem to avoid not feeling cheated by some change that hurts us in some way, be it financially, religiously, misplaces us, or hinders our conveniences, so we do what we can to get things back to the way they were.  Is there really progress, or just a push and pull between all kinds of various factions fighting for temporary supremacy?  Is this mess really what we want to hand off to our youth?  A youth, that at this point, can only ask themselves “What happens after” everything has already blown up? 

 

All the kids are fucked up

No the kids don’t care about love again

And everybody’s caught up

With the same growing pains of their ways

 

So go the lyrics in the first part of the chorus for the powerfully epic ballad of encouragement “L.”  Yes, the kids are fucked up.  They’re fucked up because we’re all fucked up.  All the kids come into the world searching for meaning, and their teachers are the adults who are even more fucked up and hopeless.  Ali’s comforting vocals have to remind us “you’re not a mistake.”

 

The debut album by this New York duo asks a lot of the types of questions mentioned above in this emotionally charged, and frankly exciting album.  An album full of beautiful atmospheric washes mixed with striking walls of guitar noise, and a low end that at times is felt more than heard.  I know an album is a good one, when my favorite song changes every time I listen.

 

My introduction to Laveda came with the stratospheric “Dream, Sleep,” as Ali Genevich pleads urgently for a break amidst all of the chaos.  The dream and the sleep become quite threatening here.  The next single was the very unusual sounding, yet incredibly catchy “Better Now.”  I didn’t know what to make of this song for a long time.  Jacob Brook’s vocal is altered to a phony deep tone, where he repeats the ominous line: “she was seventeen when she looked at me / I doubt she knew what she was in for.”  The only thing is, I couldn’t (and can’t) stop playing this song over and over again.  In context of the album, the song’s message becomes clearer that the deep voice is coming from the Earth after everything has “turned to grey” and “there’s no turning back.”  A wearied messenger for the young girl looking for “Neverland.”

 

The opening salvo, “Ghost,” on the album is a horrifying and sad duet detailing a struggle for life in the midst of some sort of apocalyptic disaster like a nuclear holocaust.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard so much nuclear end of the world imagery since Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s Welcome to the Pleasuredome.  The mostly instrumental “CND” is an industrial soundscape with a scratchy recording of a statement about our society’s obsession with apocalypse.  It acts as an explanation for our televangelist preachers and their end of days pleas for donations.  This would have fit nicely onto Front 242’s album Official Version.

 

“Rager,” as implied by its song title is an absolute scorcher!  This straight-ahead song gets louder and more intense as it progresses.  It’s a tragic and depressing anthem that could and should get an audience bouncing around and singing along with this bleak chorus:

 

Now it’s on fire

There’s nowhere left to wander

Soon everyone dies

We’ll never find another

 

As the album progresses everything turns to more personal matters of the heart.  “If Only (You Said No)” acts as the LP’s power ballad – a song full of misguided devotion.  “Child” comes on with a soaring chorus and an admission that sometimes one feels like reverting to the lost innocence and neediness of childhood.  The sad reflection of “Blue Beach” has a haunting beauty that reminds me a little bit of Nirvana’s “Something in the Way.”  The album closes with “color,” a musically meditative reprise of “Blue Beach,” with a thoughtful and somewhat uplifting spoken message: “And I think it’s lovely the way we can see the world and the way we can see time / It’s lovely how it rains outside.” 

 

Perhaps there is hope.  We could be going through growing pains.  We may need to hit bottom before finding out how best to recover – to become better as people and better as a collective.  Maybe the kids will figure out a solution.

 

(https://lavedamusic.bandcamp.com/)

Laveda "L" (session video)

 

Center of the City Lights

Silver Bars

Center of the City Lights

(Shifting Sounds)

Writing this recommendation has been slow coming for me.  First of all, I absolutely love this debut album from this Austin, TX four-piece.  I’ve wanted to share this for several weeks now, but every time I sit down to write something, I get lost while listening and get nothing done.  The good part for me is that I keep hearing these incredible songs, and every time I listen, I come away with a new favorite song.

Shifting Sounds Records is sure building an impressive roster with releases like this one, Honeyrude’s incredible debut in 2017, and the gritty Magnet School.  Texas has become a hotbed for dream pop with an aggressive edge.  Much like Honeyrude, this debut feels and sounds like the work of seasoned veterans at the height of their powers.  In addition, both bands portray some of the most impressive and expressive soaring guitar work I’ve heard since I first heard the Chameleons back in the 80s, or maybe Chrome era Catherine Wheel.  Guitarists Ken Hatton and Paula J. Smith are on fire here.  Each song is highlighted by absolutely scorching hot leads that lead to descriptions such as: stratospheric and captivating, as well as intricate cascading picking that evokes images of the shimmering falling embers from a colorful explosive firework high in the sky.   Meanwhile Smith’s lyrics are thought-provoking and her lead vocals are unique and unassumingly alluring.  I do not mean “unique” in a takes some getting used to sort of way, but in a haven’t heard a voice like hers before sort of way.  This even truer when bassist Stephen Thurman lends his vocals seamlessly to hers, creating an intriguing melding that is wholly its own sound.

The LP kicks off with the slow burning “Pulse,” which is one of those particular majestic songs that would shine both as the perfect introductory song or the big dramatic closing finale.  In this case, as the intro, it does an incredible job at setting an intense mood and to foreshadow the amazing journey we’re about to embark.  Next up are the two pre-LP singles: the remarkably addictive bitter indictment of “Lost You to L.A,” which contains some serious moments of cranking revelation spurred on by the propelling rhythm section of Thurman and drummer Johnny Wilkins, and then there’s the redemptive “Last Crash Landing,” containing a guitar passage in the chorus that I’ve found myself humming eternally since I put this record on the turntable for the first time.  “Marching Song” concludes side one with a slow intro that comes on like the sun creeping its way over the horizon before building increasing tension to an explosive conclusion.

The second side begins with the heartbreaking epic “Green Trees,” before melding into the mid-tempo beauty of “Emergency,” which evokes the effortless gliding principles of prime Abecedarians.  “Put on Your Face” brings some up-tempo fire to side two with an elevating chorus.  The album closes this collection with the brilliant “Slowly but Surely,” and it’s smooth comforting electric warmth.

Luckily, the digital version of Center of the City Lights has two additional songs!  These are no throwaways.  In fact, I can’t get enough of the ‘what’s the matters’ of the verses “Get Comfortable,” as well as the instrumental grind of its chorus.  The second album finale, the melancholy “Spirit Guides,” is another spectacular highlight with a lot of great lines like “kingdom come is a moving target.”  This definitely one of the best albums I’ve heard all year.  Please consider discovering this great new band!

(https://shiftingsounds.bandcamp.com/album/center-of-the-city-lights)

Silver Bars "Lost You to L.A."

Dreamo

Teen Body

Dreamo

(Broken Circles)

The first time I heard Teen Body was a couple of months ago.  It was a warm, yet overcast Saturday morning.  I was going for a walk in a quiet neighborhood, enjoying the DKFM live stream.  I often go for a long walk on Saturday mornings and finish at the grocery store so I can stock up on necessities.  Generally, I take the earbuds out and put the phone away, but on this day, I kept the music playing.  A bunch of really good songs played by bands I was unfamiliar with.  One of them turned out to be Teen Body and the debut single, “Validation,” from their second LP Dreamo.  The reason I am telling this dry story is that while doing my usual shopping – wandering aimlessly with a broken shopping cart filled with five or six unrelated items, I was finding it difficult to focus on the music.  Clearly, I am too single-minded to perform more than one task at a time.  Despite this, the chorus to “Validation” with that boinging bassline and four part rhyme scheme became permanently wedged into my consciousness.  I had to find out who that was.  It reminded me of the much missed Veronica Falls, with similarly great vocals and intertwining guitar lines.

Now that I know who created this wonderful song that I have listened to a few hundred times, I am in possession of the full album, and it surpasses my expectations.  Teen Body (a creepy band name if there ever was one) not only capture some of the essence that made Veronica Falls so appealing, but they also exude the exuberance and pop sensibilities of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and the taught tunefulness of 90s era Teen Beat Records greats like Unrest/AirMiami, and True Love Always.  

The lyrics bear a hazy dream-like quality, yet there is an urgency to them.  They are little puzzles that contain lot of emotions and deep-seated fears deeply tied to these surreal scenarios.  The title track “Dreamo” is not about sleep and dreams though, it’s more about those long restless or sleepless nights where we find ourselves desperate for relief.  It’s a plea to get some sleep.  To rest one’s mind.  Similarly, the opening, “Fell Off,” dwells on one’s own mistakes and the ensuing regrets of poor decisions.  I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent many nights (just in the last few weeks, ruminating over my own mistakes, and/or things I should’ve said or done in the moment (“Neverending nights / heavy, cold and bright / little wrong / who couldn’t make it right”).  This catchy song is for those moments.  “Act yr Age” represents the conflicted emotions of being drawn to someone that you may know going in is bad for you.  The lazy plucking strum of the “Ballad of Tomboy Jerry” is the perfect accompaniment for the timidity of the words within, while the narrator in “The Draag” wants to run away from previous mistruths.  The aforementioned “Validation” is loaded with self-doubt – something that can keep one up at night (“Got nothing to show / it’s all circling back to what’s not there / leave me alone / is all I can account for”).  It isn’t till the album closing “Other Places Pt. 2” that we are finally allowed to drift off to the land of dreams (“you’re still somewhere very distant”) and it is quite satisfying.

I have a feeling that I am going to love this album for years to come.  The addictive quality of their music and the breezy vocal harmonies that bring these songs to life, but it’s the understanding words that make it timeless.

( https://teenbody.bandcamp.com/)

Teen Body "Dreamo"

Flow West to You

Endless White

Flow West to You

(Taihe Music)

When I was a kid in the early 90s falling head over heels in love with music, most specifically, the “shoegaze” coming from the UK, I never thought I’d see its influence permeate so strongly 25+ years later all over the world.  I mean, seriously, we all may now think of Slowdive, Ride, and Lush as hugely successful bands garnering rave reviews and sold out shows, but that is only in recent times.  Though they received a couple of years’ worth of heavy coverage in the British music weeklies, they were quickly and actively dismissed as passé – in favor of the next big scene.  The term shoegaze was meant as an insult.  Giving these hyper-creative artists the brush off, essentially because they weren’t full of headline grabbing rock-n-roll wankers attempting to be needlessly provocative.  They were all about the sound – that oh-so wonderful sound.  My experience with this music in the Pacific Northwest is that there shows were marginally attended, their music was not given any local airplay or exposure, there was really only one record store that actively stocked the newest releases, and most people were simply unaware.  These days, those British weeklies no longer exert a huge influence, the record industry has been completely revamped, and aside from a handful of artists, music is fragmented and narrow-casted to the point that no one really knows what’s out there beyond their own streaming playlist.  Somehow, despite its brief window of exposure so many years ago, the wonderful influence of these so-called shoegaze bands of yore has fed into a burgeoning worldwide scene today.

Endless White are a four-piece from China and their brand of dreamy guitar pop sits comfortably with the greats of that original foregone era.  Though, I’m not big on hyper-specific music genre classification, I would say that Endless White are not a classic shoegaze style band, Endless White channel that dramatic ebb and flow of the best dream pop music, while evoking large doses of the rainy day reflection of the early stuff by The Sundays, or maybe that great album by Just Handshakes (Say It) from five years ago.  Flow West to You is Endless White’s debut album after a previous EP back in 2016.  I know nothing else about them, but that isn’t important.  What they’ve created on this collection is a group of amazing songs that elevate me to higher plane of existence. 

The album opens deliberately with the band’s title track, “Endless White,” which sets a somber and intense mood.  Repeated reverbed guitar strikes above a skittering beat act as an introduction before settling into a nice groove that lays the groundwork for the transcendent vocals of Zhang Wanyl.  Meanwhile, the next two songs are the most straightforwardly shoegaze tracks, “Slow to Crush,” Wanyl channels her upper register and floats her dreamy voice into the mix of soft splashing cymbals and crashing guitar fuzz (not too dissimilar from what we’ve heard so far from the new Belgium band Slow Crush), while the spacious “Daylight Burnt Down” is unbelievably heartbreaking in its beauty. Its chiming guitar lead leads us down a reflective path before exploding into a dramatic fiery crescendo and then closing quietly, unresolved.

Endless White perform with such passion.  You can feel the emotion in the notes they play.  The greatest example of this is the brilliant “A Lost Dog Story.”  I immediately fell in love with Wanyl’s voice on this song.  Her warm, yet reserved delivery matches the forlorn reflective stroll the song presents.  This is a case where I long to know the lyrics, though I can feel its longing sadness permeate every note performed right down to the casual drum pattern.  Another standout is the heavy “Nothing to Regret,” which slowly builds to an exciting and explosive conclusion.  On the penultimate track, Endless White take on the ancient Scottish hymn, “Auld Lang Syne,” – that song we’re duty bound to sing as the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve – and it fits right in.  Theirs is a rainy version with a tasteful two minute introduction before bursting into that classic refrain amongst a soaring din of amazing sounds.  Elsewhere, “Some Other Life,” acts as a default pop single due to its crisp and tight melody.

My only complaint with the entire album is with the closing track, “Hit By Me.”  It’s not the song itself, which is a  jaunty sounding ending to an epic set of songs, with Zhang Wanyl’s vocals pushed further out front than elsewhere, and includes a fantastic mid-song transition.  However, the song fades out at what feels like a random point.  It feels a bit of a cheat to conclude such a fantastic album.  Please let this wonderful record flow its way into your life.  It is remarkable.

(https://endlesswhite.bandcamp.com/album/flow-west-to-you)


Here is a video someone made from Endless White's debut EP.