Archive for the ‘Rock’ Category

I have been a sucker for prettyboys in makeup and scarves ever since I started experimenting with heterosexuality in my late teens.  Royal Sugar know exactly what they are doing with every painted nail and pouffed curl in their new video, “Fleeting Love.”  Check out this Raven-haired nephew of Robert Plant serving drama.  This is toxic romance ripe for angsty teen girls, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say my head doesn’t swing when he shouts “You can’t leave me love!”  

Nashville-based Duo Tyler Cohenour and Garrett Carr started their journey on Tiktok covering Harry Styles’ live track “Medicine.”  But while their sounds come from One Direction, their looks come from another: the Aqua-Net and sterling silver tradition that I have been grieving since the early 00s, when all the bro bands decided to make misery rock and be extra dudely.  Boring.  Royal Sugar plan to carry the banner of a glam rock revival.  Oh please, please do.  I will shower you in glitter confetti.

“Fleeting Love”

Royal Sugar’s ripe-for-arena pop bathes in the visual legacies left by Marc Bolan and Queen.  GNR-flavored crane shots give us full views of their impressive array of deep V-neck tops and scarves.  Bathe in the drama with Cohenour and his antique red telephone.  Watch Carr and his wispy spikes tempt fate while his guitar wails on the wet bathroom floor near a broken antennae television.  So pretty.  So tortured.  So retro.  I hope those heeled boots insulate them from their guaranteed electrocution.  

Royal Sugar are a little silly.  But if you scan their TikTok, they know they’re a little silly, whether they’re eating skittles off their star-spangled tops, or chiseling open oranges with their jawlines.  Think of them like Måneskin but more sexy-cute than sexy-dangerous.  It’s a bit of a respite if you’re bored of oversexed pop imagery.  Glam ought to have a bit of mystery to it.  I look forward to more.

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Funhouse Mirror is the fifth offering from Danish duo Vinyl Floor.  Brothers Daniel and Thomas Charlie Pederson share vocals and songwriting duties and play most of the instrumental parts themselves.  Supported by a handful of invited musicians, the album was recorded live in Malmö, Sweden and finished in their native Denmark.  Funhouse Mirror’s ten tracks are a plate of biscuits with buttery layers of beautiful sound and lyric.  This is really approachable and satisfying melodic indie pop with gently psychedelic qualities and stark lyrical imagery.  The Pederson’s vocals have a richness, like a tint to them that I feel like I keep hearing in other artists of Scandinavian descent (Daði Freyr and Erlend Øye come to mind). They are clear, pretty, and warm.

Funhouse Mirror is a collection of minor key melodies stuffed with soaring whooshy moments thanks to its liberal use of horns, keys, and breezy vocals.  From the start, opener track “Anything You Want” is a stomper that introduces the album’s retro “grandchild of Sargeant Pepper” feel.  Following, “Clock With No Hands” and “Between Lines Undone” really center those amazing Pederson vocals.  They’re chock full of Jellyfish-like woowoos, and I love me some woowoos.  Woowoos power the engines that keep Vinyl Floor’s melancholic songs in flight.  Like much music coming out right now, the majority of songs were written in the dark years.  Funhaus Mirror is an attempt to make that inescapable mid-lockdown “Groundhog Day” feeling into something that transcends, and somehow it manages to capture both the good and the bad without being too reminiscent of all those crappy feelings that you’d rather forget, because now they feel like funnel cake during a day at the carnival.

Around mid album we start getting heady and folky, with tracks like “Dear Apollon” and “Ever the Optimist” playing with idioms and allegories.  “Dear Apollon” prays for divine inspiration through Billy Joel-esque piano soft rock, continuing that sense of listlessness: “I long for pacific winds to shake me through, today not tomorrow.”  “Ever the Optimist,” turns this common phrasing of words into a character who seems to descend into himself.  As “Ever” rolls into a delicious jamband groove, I realize these attempts to stay skyward and jaunty are more and more desperate.  

By the last third of the album, the tracks become one long narrative diving into one’s darkness and back.  The album hits its emotional nadir during “Death of a Poet,” where it changes and molts before descending into proggy grunge in “Stare, Scare.”  This one is heavy enough for some Heavy Metal-esque mental animations thanks to its electric guitars and references to fear.  For all of its tonal darkness, this one is the most optimistic as it stares mortality in the face, and suddenly drum beats are clubs bashing the brains of zombies or Nazgûl or stalfos – pick your fantasy poison.  Its finale, “Days,” is like a reward for the vigilance of battling the evils.  If the album soars through the sky, “Days” is a dusky orange horizon and a reason to set down and rest your head.  

All in all, Funhouse Mirror is beautifully done.  It carries its triumph throughout its ten tracks and still manages to end on the strongest emotions. It’s a great offering for anyone who is looking to sit in their sads and watch the clouds.

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Martha Zed’s debut – Cat Song

Posted: September 21, 2022 by Kat Meow in Alternative, Indie, Martha Zed, Rock

First off, let’s start with the fact that Martha Zed is an absolutely bangin’ grunge rock name.  It’s earnest but still has that rock and roll purr, much like “Cat Song,” Zed’s debut tune.  This track is ice cream and hot fudge alt-rock, a classic slacker rhythm with cutie pie vocals.  The wailing guitar at the end is the cherry on top.  This song is dedicated to the greatest love story ever told – a human and their sweetie baby murder floof.  It’s all love, and this love is one you’ll want to gobble up over and over.  Check it out.

Martha Zed BandcampMartha Zed InstagramMartha Zed Website

Photo Credit: David Abbott

Based out of Atlanta, Georgia, Collective Soul is a quintet that has been weaving huge threads in the fabric of rock music for nearly thirty years.  Fronted by Ed Roland, they seem to have found their longevity in the cohesion of their current roster.  “I mean, this is the band for the rest of my life. This is it, man,” Says Roland, in the band’s bio. The band’s eleventh album, Vibrating, is hotly anticipated after the chart success of its predecessor, Blood.

But when I think of Collective Soul, I think of their grunge rock classic “Shine,” a tune that always gets a volume boost whenever I hear that telltale riff and Ed Roland’s punctuated “yeah.”  Alt-rock anthem “The World I Know” wraps you up tightly every day on mainstream rock radio.  Underplayed classics “December” and “Heavy” remain retro treats whenever they pop up on the dial.  But I didn’t follow them after the 90s because I broke up with rock and went into other musical directions, so I missed everything from 2000’s Blender all the way through their smash success See What You Started By Continuing.  So it’s a treat to come back down to earth with fresh ears and listen to some mainstream rock.

Vibrating starts with “Cut The Cord,” which is a speedy guitar number that has me wondering if this is a welcome wagon for new listeners like me, coming in from our radio memories.  And it’s a warm welcome, indeed.  Ed Roland’s voice is crisp as ever.  He’s got this crystalline vibration that is so uniquely his own.  It is like ice on the wound permeating through Vibrating’s lyrical themes of love, reflection, and a desire for healing.  The pace continues into “Reason” and I can suddenly imagine how dope Jesse Triplett’s guitar must sound like in a large setting, and I could kick myself for having missed them at the Paramount in Long Island earlier this month.

Vibrating Cover

Vibrating’s songs are tender but still have a little bit of that heavy edge to remind you where they come from.  Standout tracks like “Take” and “Undone” are sweet and full of that hopeful tone that make Collective Soul songs stand out from the rest of the noise.  “Rule #1” is flavor bomb on the deep end of the strings.  Then there’s “All Our Pieces,” where Collective Soul starts settling into more of an Americana type sound.  I think there’s a little something for the soft rock and the grunge rock fans to share on each track.  

Collective Soul fans have been anticipating this release for three years and I think they’ll realize that it was worth it.  It’s great to see a band with this many iconic songs still growing into themselves and uncovering new territory.  But I think a casual rock listener like me would find a treat in Vibrating just as well.

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Les Cooper knows how to set the mood. Hailing from the Toronto area, this multi-instrumentalist and producer has a long history of orchestrating ambivances through working with musicians, symphonies, and television shows. With his new release Noise, Cooper uses his decades of skills to paint portraits of uncertainty. Gentle but tinkling rhythms and a solid emotional core make Noise a really flavorful listen.

Noise starts with “Stranger,” a tune that gets a little deeper under my skin with each play. The album’s second track, “Noise,” shimmies with a bossa-nova flavor and hummingbird vocals of Caroline Marie Brooks. Despite its anxious lyrics, it vibes more like abandoning Saturday evening plans for Hulu rather than braving the outside world. It ends up being a standout track, the most upbeat of the bunch, and the one with the “date night with the boo” flavor. It’s also a great showcase of Cooper’s vocals, which are warm with a touch of elevating rasp.

Gorgeous video for Best Of You by Anne Douris

“Best of You” is a thoughtful nodder about being stuck under the weight of others’ good intentions, when the world, even at its best, can be smothering. “And the world pulls you ’round/and the sky pulls you down to the ground,” Cooper illustrates, that illustrates powerlessness to one’s routines. Further, “Keep It Down” seems like an answer to “Noise,” like the far end of a relationship when curling up doesn’t seem like the safe place it used to be. Cooper conveys that sense of and tension isolation in his lyrics. It rolls with a country melancholy played on something with a bow (“cinematic strings” he calls them in a blurb). Together, these three songs seem to (in my mind) illustrate the conflict of whether internal spaces are fences or prison walls, or perhaps a bit of both.

Noise is a great record for lovers of acoustic guitar sounds with not-too-much electrical diddling. It’s just so carefully put together that it’ll draw you in and trap you. I get flavors of Massive Attack and later-years Talk Talk. Check it out.

Noise LPLes Cooper WebsiteLes Cooper Instagram

Now this crew puts on a one-of-a-kind show. Hailing from Los Angeles, this five piece has a cult following for their raucous combination of punk and funk, and for good reason – behind the space-punk aesthetic and DIY ethic is otherworldly musicianship. Being that the critical mass of the band is educated in jazz and are prone to inventiveness, their new live album Live at the Echo becomes a whirlwind of genre-bending talent and high energy fun. They know how to yank a person out of their head and onto the Space Barn, where all that matters is sweat, dance, and joy.

Live at the Echo captures their lunacy from the get. Compared to album versions, songs take on faster speeds and add unique musical elements that ensure no live show is ever just “playing the album.” They remind me of the phrase “tight but loose” from Led Zeppelin’s canon. Thump shows give you the sensation that anything can happen. Maybe it’s an otherworldly sax solo on “Alien” that saxophonist Henry Solomon thought of in the moment. Or it could be keyboardist Paul Cornish adding a random classical undercurrent in the middle of “Flamingo Song.” Maybe it’s Logan Kane’s utterly ridiculous bass skills that make me wonder where he’s hiding his extra fingers, because there’s no way he’s doing all that with just the ten. You don’t know what you’re going to get, and sometimes the mix is so brash and unexpected you go the fuck? but only long enough to realize it’s working, and boy aren’t you glad you just experienced something you never experienced before?

And what is life but a series of moments – as a culture of humans watching our own mortality slowly decline on devices that eat away at our consciousness, wouldn’t it be gnarly to be able to experience the unexpected with awesome results for a change? We are a people that desperately need to start living to the beat of Henry Was and his drum kit and his slick kshhhhk kshhhhk bounce. There’s this part on “Space Barn,” you can hear it, where he does this *tibbytibbytap* and it palpates my brain stem. There’s an endless number of spicy little flourishes.

And then there’s Lucas Tamaren. Lucas is a maestro of the crowd’s energy, leading the Space Barn passengers through the highs and lows of the journey through his vocals and guitar. It’s Lucas that is the chief songwriter, so lots of these lyrics and melodies are infused with his comedic sensibility while also being so easy to grasp and relate with emotionally. Songs have this disarming honesty that’s wrapped in self-affirmation and even optimism. And then he fucking screams into the microphone. Because why not? Don’t you just want to scream sometimes, too? His screaming is not abrasive, it’s cathartic, and it’s inflected just right between his speech-singing and random scatting and the occasionally very lovely singing.

If I had to choose, I would suggest music-lovers watch the live video. Firstly, the video allows sixth Thump Ben Benjamin to showcase his essential contributions to the Thump aesthetic in the form of visuals. The show is reframed as a rebellion against the digital lobotomization we’re experiencing as un/willing participants in the soul-deadening metaverse (she says, after losing an hour to useless yet hypnotizing Facebook reels). It turns out rebellion looks a lot like dancing your jiggly ass off and shaking the numbness that bogs us down in the blue screen light. It’s this aspect of the Thumpaverse canon that gets me, because having universal worldwide super-villains lets me see Thumpasaurus as heroic underdogs. Secondly, Lucas is an absolute madman and he never stops. As a front man he is charismatic as hell, and his drag is giving constant face every time he twiddles something glorious on his guitar or delivers a lyric in character. You can also catch members of the band giving each other glances as they whip out new skills, perpetually impressed with each other, as if to say “check this shit out… no check this shit out.” Director Oliver Salk captured all of that electricity.

Keep ears (and eyes) open for a uniquely beautiful version of “Beta Lupi” with Paul Cornish giving it a baroque (the fuck?) accompaniment, and a surprise version of “Lovin’ You” you might otherwise only find if you peruse the deep corners of their Youtube. (That said, go peruse the corners of their YouTube). Live at the Echo is worth 90 minutes of your loosest socks-on-a-hardwood-floor dance energy, and is a proper analogue until the Space Barn sets down in your own neck of the woods.

Live at the Echo (Youtube)Thumpasaurus InstagramLive at the Echo (Spotify)

Trying to write while neck deep in the grind means sometimes good tunes fall through the cracks. Here I’m going to offer my inbox some relief while sharing worthy musical goodness with you lovable clickers. Five tunes not to miss coming right up!

Opeongo – tragedy

Artwork by Patrick Decourcy

Opeongo’s voice is so uniquely clear that it paints “tragedy” in bold colors.  His tone is sweet and vaguely nasal that it feels like Steve Harley, making “tragedy” feel very glam. It nods so good and demands your attention.  The lyrics tell a grim story of Canadian-indigenous genocide, but end in the potential for hope as voices like Opeongo’s try and remember history so it never repeats.  It’s gorgeous and sorrowful, and that voice will stick to you.

Listen to “tragedy”Opeongo FacebookOpeongo Bandcamp

Down With Space – We Were Strangers

“We Were Strangers” has a post-punk drum flavor and an electro agenda.  The chorus has that kind of foot-stomping energy that is completely magnetic.  The result is a pop tension that feels a lot like 1am with four drinks in the gullet, about to make a very exciting bad decision.  Vaguely nostalgic, exacerbated by the video’s visuals as the viewer perpetually leaves everything behind. There’s just something about that combination of tones that is so compelling.

We Were Strangers VideoDown With Space InstagramDown With Space Bandcamp

Lydia Persaud – Good For Us

Soulful, smooth, and cool as hell, Lydia Persaud’s “Good For Us” is the flavor of self-care and new clarity. Simple rhythm and delicate guitar let Persaud’s voice wash over and cleanse the soul as she sings the praises of time away from one’s lover. The video sees Persaud smudging away the bad vibes and spending some much-needed personal time with her besties. Send the other half out for groceries and roll out the bath bombs to melt into this one.

Good For Us VideoLydia Persaud InstagramLydia Persaud Bandcamp

John Orpheus – House of Cards (Radiohead Cover)

It’s hard to top an original, but John Orpheus gives and old favorite new breath in his Afro-pop cover of Radiohead’s “House of Cards.” Capitalizing on the original’s minimalist percussion, Orpheus adds delicate Caribbean rhythm that gives the song a new optimism. His vocals feel a bit like Phil Collins at moments. Refreshingly honest, video director Patrick Hodgson illustrates the tune with images of real couples in love, from the joyful to the mildly erotic, which capture the (often underrepresented) love shared in a long-term relationships.

House Of Cards by John Orpheus VideoJohn Orpheus InstagramJohn Orpheus Bandcamp

Agath Christ – Blood

It starts like a post-punk electro tune until the beat takes on this off-kilter syncopation that rests on the border between darkwave and electro jazz, if there is one. Noisy and tense, “Blood” is trying desperately to break through the weighted chains of our algorithmic technological oppression. “Blood” is visceral, and stressful, and so very easy to connect with if you’ve ever felt overburdened by the world as it has been engineered. Visuals show (what I interpret as) sufferers escaping their homes to find the last vestige of land free from the looming pressures of technocracy, only able to find rest by laying in the woods in snow. I get it – screens can start to feel like prison walls. Engage with this one.

Blood VideoAgath Christ InstagramAgath Christ Bandcamp

Try ’em out! Let me know what you think in the comments or hit us up on Instagram.

Finally! After years of wait, our own Soda Survive has finally brought his newest project into the daylight. Coventry Carols is a reunion of (e)motion picture’s Soda and drummer Terry Taylor, along with bassist Clifford “Sugarbear” Catropa. Together, the trio have emerged victorious from their first gig in nearby Connecticut, and have released their premiere track “The Well,” due to hit virtual airwaves on Friday (but purchasable from bandcamp at this very moment).

“The Well” is a alt-rock bopper, or as was recently noted during an interview on Bitten Apple TV, “a 90s throwback to the future.” The Well starts with a jaunty guitar riff over Terry’s tip-taps, that sound much like a rock-and-roll kid’s jaunt in a playground. Soda’s vocals come in, bringing in a little Billy Corgan flavor along with the lyrics that make me wonder if “The Well” is a metaphor for the darkness of the pandemic (Will we ever see the light again?/These times they are so cruel). Alternatively they might reference Soda’s recent years of medical challenges, a well from which he has emerged victorious. All in all, The Well is a 90s-ey, garage-y, grunge-y rock tune that will woo a few of the emo kids to boot.

The well single has four tracks, including an instrumental, and a remix by Coventry Carols album producer Joey Zampella (Life of Agony). Long Island can find Coventry Carols playing at Mr. Beery’s at the end of the month. Keep an eye open for their forthcoming cassette and CD, too – Coventry Carols has just joined the roster at Rescord!

coventrycarols.com

Coventry Carols on Bandcamp

Altameda – Nightmare Town

Posted: February 9, 2022 by Kat Meow in Altameda, Canada, Rock

Altameda, the nom de tune of Edmonton (Alberta) duo Troy Snaterse and Erik Grice, are launching a new album in April entitled Born Losers. From this album comes this driving Springsteen-ey track “Nightmare Town.” This upbeat ditty tells the irrational dreams of an angsty youth that thinks he would do almost anything to get out and start his adulthood. He recounts fantasies and memories that ring of youthful freedom. It’s got that kind of foot-stomping beat that is classically North American rock. For me, it calls up imagery of warm spring nights in the suburbs, corner-store sodas, and dusklight games of hide-and-seek. It’s got a really solid blend of piano and vocal that feels wistful but not quite desperate. Compared to the similar story in Tracy Chapman’s classic “Fast Car,” “Nightmare Town” is less of a plan and more of a wish. I get the sense that the young protagonist does more dreaming than doing, a recipe for unfulfilled wanderlust that feels more like cruising down the highway on a road trip than running away. It has some vague hope underneath, even though it is a reminder of how I used to look at my hometown through brown-colored glasses, as I now shop for houses in that same town. Oh, life. A good listen, check ’em out.

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 Altameda’s Website

Les Cooper Himself

Les Cooper a Toronto’ based producer, mixer, multi-instrumentalist, JUNO award winner, and very cool name haver, has released his debut single, “Stranger.” It starts with buzzy tones before Les’s haunting vocal slides into consciousness. Layers upon layers of swirling instrumentation weave through Cooper’s mellow voice. The speaker of the song seems to carry a very intense and public hurt as it tells the pain of feeling left behind after someone else’s success: Everyone will say that you’re the one that shook them up/the one that tore them down. There is a sense of the speaker struggling through this rawness as they encounter this person’s exploits in other places: Everyone may write about the things you did, the lies you told, the hearts you broke. I get the sense that the hurt may be public, but the speaker feels quite invisible, like they’re the one becoming a stranger. It’s a good atmospheric mellow. I wonder what he’ll come up with next.

Listen to “Stranger” on your preferred platform

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