If you’re a fan of 90’s-inspired literate punk girls spitting lyrics at you in a Southern accent, this will please you infinitely. If you aren’t, well, what the hell is wrong with you?
P.S. Eliot is like if Letters To Cleo went to some Tennessee college to study English Literature and used words like asinine or cerebral in their songs but rhymed them really well and described distress as ‘varnished’ and your prime as ‘looming’ and yet still came off as really fucking adorable.
In an alternate reality, Electrelane were actually a lo-fi, melodious, surf-rock three-piece and their name was Grass Widow.
They say lo-fi is the new hi-fi. If that’s true, let’s call these guys post-lo-fi. PENS are three grrrls from the UK who sound like the pissed off punk sisters of the Vivian Girls.
Definitely contender for a spot in Best Albums of ’09, A Sunny Day In Glasgow’s sophomore release is a gorgeous, lilting, ghostly echo of great shoegaze bands of years past.
This album will now be released by the band on May 29. See their myspace for more information on how to purchase it, and support them.
I’ll put it out there: I’m not a huge fan of Australian music. I usually inwardly groan when I find out a band I like is Australian. However, this record carves its own lonesome, starkly beautiful niche of minimalist, poetic, intricately arranged post-punk that I would never usually associate with the inane exuberance of most popular Australian bands.
23 year-old singer/songwriter/guitarist Nick Smethurst has a talent for getting under your skin with his silver-tongued tales of lost love and found love, astoundingly skillful songwriting and some of the most intricate, shiver-inducing guitar-work I have heard on a record in an age. And the dude is only 22. Omg.
With a literate prose that recalls the lyrical majesty of Yoni Wolf, John K. Samson and John Darnielle, I view this exquisitely lyricised gem as a form of escapism: put it on and imagine you’re wandering alone in the echoey labyrinth of a forest, reading aloud from this wondrous book of poetry. At that point, you’ll be glad you took my advice.
One of my favourite finds of the past few months, this record has nearly faded into obscurity, which is awful as it’s just so damn good! One man band Sam Beebe’s only record to date is an introspective, bedroom synth-pop 12 track journey (a song for every month, so he says) that really makes you wonder what the stories behind the songs are. Think a more poetically-lyricised Casiotone For The Painfully Alone. I was inspired to listen to this dude after finding this artwork by graphic artist Melinda Boyce.
We’re actually not quite sure what this is: all traces of it/this band have been erased from private torrent sites and this release is a bit different to anything that is being promoted by the band or their label. But you don’t really need to know that. What you need to know is if The Smiths accidentally played surf rock in an alternate dimension, we have reason to believe it would sound like this.