Blindfold on, headphones in, teleporter connected. The conduit between Let's Live A Life Better Than This and the English punk scene of the early eighties is seamless. That is by no means a slight but rather complementary as these Aussie lads take the pioneering baton as created by their U.K. contemporaries and run a new mile. The fidelity with which they bring to the table is refreshing as a new generation confidently stamps their own mark on a genre of music that needs no introduction. Incendiary tracks like ‘Tell you All The Time’ and ‘He Is Dead’ are blistering pieces which roll up the sleeve, wipe the sweat from the brow and tighten the Doc Martens laces as they brace for impact. The solid foundations from which this Tassie trio work are typified by insightful and infectious tracks such ‘Easy Come’ and ‘Friends’. With their punks roots firmly embedded in vintage grimy but highly charged pieces, the inventiveness they bring to the fore with tracks as such ‘Sick Kinda WRLD’ and ‘Puppy, Baby’ with their vocal treatments and glam rock stylings of ‘Cool Cucumber’, shine a light on what A. Swayze & The Ghosts are bringing to the collective punk table. A host of external factors that ultimately shaped the internal processes and direction of their sophomore record, is evidenced by the disparate sounds they embrace and lyrical freedom they espouse. A debut album should always be a foundation record fans can rally behind but what is inventiveness without new directions, and this is something that their new album delivers in spades.

7 / 10

The expansive and expressive sonic soundscapes that are the DNA of experimental Montréal, trio Yoo Doo Right can be equally as hard to define as it is to encapsulate a relevant summary of their work adequately. Yoo Doo Right (Justin Cober on guitar, synthesizers, and vocals, Charles Masson on bass, and John Talbot on drums and percussion) began writing From the Heights of Our Pastureland while visiting a remote cabin near Saguenay, QC in the Winter of 2023. Snowed in, Cober, Masson and Talbot simply played for three days straight, archiving anything and everything, musing about "the storm of colonialism, the collapse of capitalism and the massive undertaking it is to rebuild with past mistakes taken into deep consideration", and ultimately laying the groundwork for their third opus. Suitably epic from the get-go, the opening two tracks ‘Spirit’s Heavy, But Not Overthrown, Part 1 and Part 2’ launch headlong into a sonic abstraction and dissection of concept and convention. Brooding and weighted with a sense of despair, the light eventually penetrates the darkened space as fevered percussion parts the droning intro. Cober breaks the mood, reiterating the point before being swept to one side as a cavalcade of guitar, feedback, and wild drumming strides forward with ever-increasing fever and volume till a doppler shift occurs and petters out to a drawn-out air raid siren. At the onset of ‘Eager Glacier’, the extended rhythmic drumming creates a hypnotic trance-like state, occasionally punctuated with other percussive elements. Coupled with a deep and slow-moving wall of guitar, the duelling sounds pause, before being broken by the weight of a sonic implosion. Moving between states of tension and release, the track jostles back and forth as if wrestling with the dichotomous notions it attempts to address, all whilst not uttering a single word. Villainous, the stalking ‘Ponders End’ with its crisp drumming and sludgy bass sculks menacingly on a hunt to which no one is privy. Cinematic in its atmosphere and authenticity, it ably pairs itself with dark and foreboding sentiment. The restraint demonstrated on ‘Lost In The Overcast’ is its masterstroke. A pitter-patter of drumming, mournful yet warm horns, and an oscillating synth are accompanied by minimally played open notes. A delicate piece that shows a tempered hand and deft touch. The title track ‘From The Heights Of Our Pastureland’, with its guitar-driven and bass-guided framework paves the way for a sonic proliferation of reverb-soaked shoegaze. Mesmerising and sprawling, the vast track reaches its zenith of absolute serenity having almost torn itself apart from the brawling cacophony, a sound taken to its stratospheric limits. The graceful wind-down and ponderous departure leaves one feeling enlightened and with a smattering of optimism. A remarkable feat given some of the worldly and momentous concepts the album tackles across its limited but lengthy tracks.

7 / 10

A tired and exhausted ‘Pretend’ is an open and honest piece. Disarmingly frank and transparent, it immediately informs the listener about what to expect of the album and of Tasha. Sincere, authentic and completely down to earth. A smattering of background electronica features throughout the album and ‘The Beginning’ is no exception. The suppressed guitar strumming by Tasha is overlaid on a bed of subtle sounds emanating from beneath. A dichotomous ‘Be Better’ has deep piano droplets like falling tears which serve to anchor the tune as Tasha’s angelic vocals attempt to lift it free from its sonic moorings and raise the song to beautiful heights. Stripped back to the bare essentials, ‘Good Song’ begins with just Tasha’s raw vocals and guitar as she questions the consequences of the basics. Wandering into the tune, the humble percussion with its oriental tinged cymbals provides a spring to its step and the musical outriggers of what is a deceptively simple but structured piece. A sedimentary ‘Michgan’ sees layers of bass, drums, keys, fx and vocals, each set down in their own very clear and precise position. The track ‘Party’ with its wobbly sonics, stumbles and sways much like that of which Tasha is echoing in her lyricism about a night out. Her puzzled recollections, questioning the preceding events as she ponders the absence of fair weathered friends. A summery ‘Nina’ with its light and airy percussion, jazz vibes and crisp acoustic is a soft and warm track. One that follows the direction and pace of Tasha’s vocals as she recalls the passing of relations as if being swept away by the very brush strokes that gently ushers out the track. An ode to the tragic passing of Eric Littman, the co-producer of Tasha’s last album, ‘Eric Song’ is a conduit between the two. A musical eulogy and the most honourable legacy an artist can offer in tribute to a fallen friend. Arguably the most emotive, uplifting and impassioned song on the whole record ‘So Much More’, is one that is utterly exceptional. Any song of merit should be able to be listened to quite simply in its own right, but on occasions the accompanying videoclip elevates a song to stratospheric heights. This song must be listened to as you watch Tasha on the beachside boardwalk absolutely radiate love and give the gift of human kindness to anyone whose ears come across this song and anyone’s eyes who watch her smile at the end of the clip. The embodiment of benevolent love. Biding farewell with ‘Love’s Changing’, the final track attempts to put to rest some troubled times with an optimistic ending. One that so gently fades out that it feels like we are saying goodbye to many chapters in Tasha’s life whilst eagerly awaiting her return with the promise of new material that comes from what a new life can bring.

8 / 10

A tired and exhausted ‘Pretend’ is an open and honest piece. Disarmingly frank and transparent, it immediately informs the listener about what to expect of the album and of Tasha. Sincere, authentic and completely down to earth. A smattering of background electronica features throughout the album and ‘The Beginning’ is no exception. The suppressed guitar strumming by Tasha is overlaid on a bed of subtle sounds emanating from beneath. A dichotomous ‘Be Better’ has deep piano droplets like falling tears which serve to anchor the tune as Tasha’s angelic vocals attempt to lift it free from its sonic moorings and raise the song to beautiful heights. Stripped back to the bare essentials, ‘Good Song’ begins with just Tasha’s raw vocals and guitar as she questions the consequences of the basics. Wandering into the tune, the humble percussion with its oriental tinged cymbals provides a spring to its step and the musical outriggers of what is a deceptively simple but structured piece. A sedimentary ‘Michgan’ sees layers of bass, drums, keys, fx and vocals, each set down in their own very clear and precise position. The track ‘Party’ with its wobbly sonics, stumbles and sways much like that of which Tasha is echoing in her lyricism about a night out. Her puzzled recollections, questioning the preceding events as she ponders the absence of fair weathered friends. A summery ‘Nina’ with its light and airy percussion, jazz vibes and crisp acoustic is a soft and warm track. One that follows the direction and pace of Tasha’s vocals as she recalls the passing of relations as if being swept away by the very brush strokes that gently ushers out the track. An ode to the tragic passing of Eric Littman, the co-producer of Tasha’s last album, ‘Eric Song’ is a conduit between the two. A musical eulogy and the most honourable legacy an artist can offer in tribute to a fallen friend. Arguably the most emotive, uplifting and impassioned song on the whole record ‘So Much More’, is one that is utterly exceptional. Any song of merit should be able to be listened to quite simply in its own right, but on occasions the accompanying videoclip elevates a song to stratospheric heights. This song must be listened to as you watch Tasha on the beachside boardwalk absolutely radiate love and give the gift of human kindness to anyone whose ears come across this song and anyone’s eyes who watch her smile at the end of the clip. The embodiment of benevolent love. Biding farewell with ‘Love’s Changing’, the final track attempts to put to rest some troubled times with an optimistic ending. One that so gently fades out that it feels like we are saying goodbye to many chapters in Tasha’s life whilst eagerly awaiting her return with the promise of new material that comes from what a new life can bring.

8 / 10

The warm and slinky opener ‘Teenage Shaman’ blows in on a soft summer breeze as vocalist McCullough Ferguson gently ushers us into his sunbaked psychedelic alt-country world. A sleepy ‘Cardboard Moon’ melds pedal steel guitar, brisk acoustic, and an angelic Ferguson as he lulls the lonely with his beautiful bedtime tale. The title track ‘Ghost Moves’ ducks and dives with its tumbleweed guitar, intoxicating Farfisa organ, and anthemic chorus as Ferguson asks the question, ”if you are such a people pleaser, why is no one pleased?”, a sentiment that is sonically echoed by ‘After Moves’. Bounding along, ‘Black Sky’ zig-zags into view as the spritely track takes all the boys and girls at the country dance to new and wobbly heights. Making another return, the pedal steel guitar on ‘Lonesome Breath’ is another Americana classic, a Midwest delight, and straw chew’n, thumbs in jeans pocket goodie as it sidewinds its way to a sunny place for shady people. The saloon stylings of ‘Yankee Reaper’ is a thigh slap’n and rollicking track that shows some of Ferguson’s cheeky humour and deft touch when melding some very disparate elements. A lamenting ‘Baby Baby’ pleads for distance and separation mirrored by its partitioned sound booth recording style. A muffled and buffeted effect that perfectly echoes the sentiment Ferguson is expressing. Stumbling into focus, ‘Guest List’ plods along at a pace that refuses to be rushed. Melodic and simple, the breathy Ferguson muses over the kind of person who is always on the guest list but never at the show. Lightly tossed with reverb and sprinkled with twangy guitar, the delicious ‘Severed Hands’ coaxes one in the fray as it blends a mixture of sounds and styles. A highlight track neatly buried toward the back end of the album. A reminder that Ferguson still has a few aces up his sleeve. The bopping bass of ‘After Hours’ along with his smart guitar and falsetto vocals rolls along as we hear all about the things we shouldn’t know. Bookending the album ‘Last Breath (Reprise)’ revisits the original, albeit stripped-back and a little rawer.

6 / 10

Originally formed in Toronto back in 2015 as a part-time project between Cam Hilborn (vox, songwriter, guitar) and drummer extraordinaire Aurora Evans, Wine Lips rapidly burst onto the scene which saw their meteoric elevate them to a full-time outfit. Their signature psych garage punk rock is packing venues everywhere they go and go they do. Relentlessly touring and racking up the frequent flyer miles, the band has amassed an army of fans in that time and their latest record will only add members to that club. Rack it up and ride the white lines as ‘High On Your Own Supply’ comes screaming out the gates with its acute and feisty guitar licks. The blistering ferocity of ‘Killjoy’ will have you reaching for the nearest collar to grab with both fists as you hold onto your circle pit comrades as the pogo dance and high octane energy is unleashed. There is no question as to why ‘Fried 4’ is the lead single off the album as it is a rip-snorter of a track. Following up with songs like ‘New Jazz’, with its heady cocktail of psychedelic-soaked sounds, desert rock with a dash of blues, shows exactly why it is impossible not to lean over the record player as the LP spins and demand more from the speakers. The sheer pace of ‘Six Pack’ threatens to tear itself apart with its breakneck speed and swirling guitars. One that as energizing as it is, could only be outmatched by a live rendition. The deep vortex of ‘Cash Man’ rides a sonic thermal updraft, reaching higher and higher in a vortex of garage psych. One would almost expect Evans sticks to snap in two due to their inability to keep up with his feverish drumming on ‘Burn The Witch’. A speedball of frenzied energy as Hilborn shreds with lightning momentum and matches the guitar playing with breakneck vox. An inciteful record, Super Mega Ultra is a full-throttle, balls-to-the-wall album that is barely contained by its twelve tracks. In case of emergency, break glass and release this epic beast in times requiring high energy, excitement, and civil disobedience.

7 / 10

Little needs to be said about TJ&MC that hasn’t been said before. Their seminal works, influence on the musical community, global recognition, and enduring fan base. What does need to be said however is how exceptional their latest release is and why it is perhaps their more important record to date. There has been an influx of albums by artists of late who have been producing works for decades and continuing to do so but in the process are treading a fine line between simply appealing to their fan's nostalgia based on previous work and genuinely creating worthy new and interesting pieces that make fine additions to their catalog of work. The re-release of records, and performances of iconic albums, twenty, twenty-five, or thirty years on, is all well and good but on a cynical level, it is nothing more than an easy money grab and exploiting audience's romantic notions of themselves in their past lives, enjoying the chance to capture and relive moments of bygone times. Few artists are emerging from their periods of greatness and are still producing innovative, skillful, dynamic, and touch-sensitive works that rival anything of their previous releases or that being put out by fellow musicians in the genre. This is what makes Glasgow Eyes such an important record, simply because the Scottish duo have created a record that is as good as anything they have ever made but perhaps even better. Like all advancements, it comes through the continual adoption of new technologies and putting one’s own creative spin on it to produce something wholly new and unique. The pair have done just that on this album and Glasgow Eyes feels as if it was almost a collection of long-lost B-sides of a band in their prime that were lost to the sands of time only to be magically rediscovered by sheer accident and are now seeing the light of day and finally being shared with the world. Across the twelve tracks on the album, the successful blend of rock, electronica, post-punk and goth provides the musical backbone. The songs each have their own very specific and well-crafted lyricism that is sharp, observational, witty, and poignant. Nothing is compromised on this record and the fusion is a mark of greatness as it shows all signs of a deft touch that when applied to any work, results in a quality that speaks for itself and will, like the rest of their work, stand the test of time.

8 / 10

A gentle field recording on ‘Missing’ opens up the album as Jessica Viscius vocals float as gently as the falling snow she describes. A tender piece that stops briefly to take in a passing moment of time. One that may soon be forgotten but for the here and now, it serves as a reminder to savour and enjoy. Eloquent slow core, ‘Good Stuff’ is a wonderful blend of fuzzed out basslines, reverb and keys as Viscius and her tender vocals scoops up what positivity there is left in the aftermath of a breakup and the ensuing chaos. A refrained alt-country track ‘Crazy, Baby’ smoulders as the hefty semi-acoustic strums nonchalantly and Viscius reminds one and all who she is, and what should have been expected. One of Viscius many appealing traits is the simple yet irresistibly hypnotic arrangements she produces and ‘Something Blue’ is a shinning example of that. Elementally basic yet punchy as hell and a perfectly suited feisty track to a difficult sentiment of regret and legacy. The gritty and angsty ‘Screaming, Dreaming’ with its thick bass and chord progressions neatly encapsulates a chaotic state. Like reflective pause plum in the middle of the record, ‘Sweet’ takes a sidestep into a slow burn. Drawing the pace down, Viscius ponders what is the worst thing she has done and wants to compare that with others to know where she stands but the overarching desire is to purge her guilt. With a whisper ‘Nothing Lasts’ sees Viscius honestly declaring her intentions no matter how contradictory or fleeting they may be in what is another facet of the multidimensional construct that is love. Tackling it from all angles and with the veil removed, it is a refreshing collection of songs and attitude that she brings to the table. No saccharine sweet love ballads here, just raw, hard fought and reflective insights into life, love and relationships. Like a visible scar that no longer is an open wound but remains a permanent reminder, ‘Rainbow’ is an ode to an unshakable past. Continuing to haunt despite persistent efforts to forget, trying to focus on the good from a negative is what this track does best. Yet another remarkable quality to Viscius work is the depth and diversity that she can muster from what is at face value a relatively narrow pallet. Gentle guitar and brushed beats gives ‘Changes’ the feel that it should be emanating from a dark and smoky bar in back alley where the broken hearted down to drown their sorrows. Turning the corner and being upbeat having collected herself and feeling primed for another round, ‘Get It Right’ is an optimistic track. The band in full flight, Viscius rides an elevated air of enthusiasm making one believe that maybe, just maybe, things might work out alright. Threadbare and conjuring all the feelings of the morning after, ‘No One’ quietly stamps out the momentary lapse in realism and soon dashes any notion of the possibility she may ride off into the sunset. In many ways an absolutely fitting end to an album that focus of love, self-destruction, loss, and hopelessness. Brutal, depressing and crushing yet utterly frank and a genuine appraisal of all the things that make a love life turn sour. An unappetising subject that Viscius does with the most beautiful of ease.

8 / 10

Jarring guitar and sharp angular beats, the post-punk stylings of ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ announces the direction and intent for the Melbournite outfit. Their art-rock leanings draw upon as many obvious sources as it does from artists unknown. What is clear however is that this five-piece are tight. Focused and direct ‘Late Night TV’ bolts out of the gate and its rolling basslines accompany Cummins vocals on a rollicking journey. A pop of the 808 sets the scene for ‘Karaoke Love’ as its off-kilter guitar slides in and out of view, and a mix of vocals adds to the track's pull and push, bending to its ebbs and flows. Given its dutiful place as lead single, ‘Staring At The Post’ uses its metronome riffs to place one sonic foot in front of the other. Moving unilaterally, its straight-line focus strides towards its fuzzy centre, using percussive crutches to hasten its pace. Three chords and the truth as they say. ‘Wrong Direction’ fits the bill perfectly as the short and punchy track repeatedly testifies to. Moving through the records paces, ‘Master Disruptor’ not just marks the midway point but also the evidence, if any were needed, as to the overarching sound and style of Essential Tremors. Persisting with the jangly, post-punk guitar hooks and slightly masked vox, the energy of the album does not diminish and the full-bodied Hooper Crescent experience continues unabated. ‘Carnival’ with its big thick bass slap’n, squished drums, circular riffs and pitter-patter piano all revolves around Cummins to celebrate the ringmaster that he is. Barely a second to breath, ‘Electronic Stove’ briskly announces itself. A lot to say and very little time in which to say it, the track travels at breakneck speed. With a seemingly endless transmission at its disposal, it shifts into high gear, still with a lot more in the tank as it hurtles down a musical path. The psychedelic and disparate ‘Sunset Through A Prism’ is as instrumentally fractured as the light it describes. Each member riding their own sonic beam yet running perfectly parallel with one another. A little more of a traditional rock track, ‘The Golden Fleece’ opens enticingly, respectfully, and remorsefully. The regretful love story builds in both detail and instrumentation. A multi-layered and honest track, its reduced pace shows the restraint that Hooper Crescent is capable of off and that pulling back a touch can reveal even more when the time is taken to look a little closer. As a final send-off, ‘Ex Cub Factor’ rises up upon some lite synth and oscillating reverb. Cummins questions it all and reminds one and all that in order to fake it you have to make it.

7 / 10

From a whisper to an electronic explosion, ‘Celebrate’ wavers between the two states of restraint and wildness. Constantly oscillating, the track is a sonic expression of tension, release, frustration, and elation. Equally joyous, ‘Terres Infinies’ comes bounding in upon silky synth and energetic percussion. Blending English and French as Maud so often does, the confluence of the two languages reaches a mediated point where a perfect balance is struck. The honest and rudimental ‘My Desire Is Pure’ comes from Maud exploring her base needs and divulging her elemental cravings. This is translated into song by sparse arrangements to resemble environmental surroundings and is humanised by her vocals and the intentionally minimal use of lyrics. In the vein of Stereolab ‘Last Day Song’ is a pure piece of pop freak out with its erratic percussion, fast tempo, and Maud performing the entire track in her native tongue. Bright and effervescent, ‘Slowly Slowly’ is a full-body sensation. Hypnotic and woozy, the track shimmers with its wonky synth and lofty vocals. Taken from her earlier EP of the same name, ‘Catch The Wave’ , the song is a microcosm of Maud’s musical methodology. Simple, skilful, and masterfully layered pieces of sonic beauty. Exploiting reverse playback, the track builds upon its earlier incarnation and proudly boasts its additional reworking. From the energic to the imperceptible, ‘Le ciel est grand’ is a gentile and delicate slice of piano. Exquisitely refined, its brevity creates a sense of longing. Not only for an extension to this all-too-short piece but also that of an explanation as the instrumental track is devoid of lyrics, and its meaning seems known only to its owner. ‘You Float’ returns to full vocal glory and brings Greg Saunier to the fore. Interspersed childish samples, the duo dual to a breakbeat. The intoxicating ‘A Te Voir’ and ‘Iceberg’ are little gems. Each with their own wondering excursions they don’t declare a destination but the journey to nowhere in particular is intriguing. Oscillating back and forth, ‘Pesnopoik’ is held steady by Maud’s vocals and rhythmic drumming. An erratic guitar solo isn’t out of place on this peace considering that the entire track constantly moves in directions that resist any fixture. A rubbery end to the album ‘Entends-Tu Ma Voix’ mixes slinky basslines and euphoric vocals in something of a summation of the record. Eloquent and laden with rich synth soundscapes, Maud is at one with her machines and uses them to highlight natural yearning to great effect.

6 / 10

Falling from the heavens, this gorgeous record opens with the cascading ‘Birdseye’. The rustic acoustic of Ryan Albert and Maya Bon’s cotton vocals make it a warm and exuberant piece considering the subject matter revolves around mistreatment and forgiveness. The stripped-back ‘My Best Friend Needs’ is rudimentary in its construction but by no means simplistic. Showing how fundamental Bon’s vocals and storytelling are, everything else seems to merely accompany the tale at hand yet does so in a symbiotic and complementary way. If there was one track that stands tall above all of the beautiful songs on this record it is ‘Dizzy Spin’. It is emblematic of the atmosphere the New York duo creates so effortlessly. Carving out such evocative feelings and whipping up potent sentiments from such elemental forces is their modus operandi. An intoxicating mix of guitar, harmonies, and rich layers, all brewed together to produce an elixir that instantaneously transports one deep into their world. A drawn-out organ slowly changing key ushers in ‘Millenia’ and creates the solid footing from which Bon waxes lyrical. The diametrically opposing fluidity of the keys against the desperate pull of hastily expressed wording, holds the tune in perfect balance. Continuing with an organ-driven piece, the angelic harmonies on ‘Lonely Cold Seed’ conjures a medieval religious sensation. The track is An otherworldly track that tussles between light and dark, Id and ego. The textbook shoegaze of ‘Chariot’ does the genre proud with its slow, swirling guitar and soft vocals. Departing as quickly as it arrived, ‘Cheery’ is a moment of deep thought, captured ever so briefly. The mallet drumming of ‘Lightness is Loud’ with its brush strokes provides the backbone for a song that centres around an invertebrate as Bon echoes “coral, coral, snake, snake”. There is a feeling with some tracks by Babehoven that the song barely scratches the surface and that there remains so much more to be discovered in what topics they are mining. A case in point with ‘Perfect’ as the barely strummed guitar gives way to a fuzzed-out sound as Bon’s angelic voice yearns for relief, only hinting at what else still needs to be said and sung about. Art imitating life as ‘Rocket’ simply describes a rainy day. Cooped up indoors, the track sonically sounds like the rain it is describing including claps of thunder recreated with percussion. The alt-country ‘Good to See You’ is a sweeping smile. Optimistic, grateful, and joyous, the piece is a welcome home, a warm embrace, a familiar feeling. An upwelling of relief that builds to pure elation. Rounding out Water’s Here In You, ‘Ella's From Somewhere Else’ is a mini record in its own right. The narration of Bon is captivating and with Albert providing the musical accompaniment, it feels like a lifetime distilled into one track. The true mark of a musician and lyricist is in their ability to lure one into their world with comfort and ease. Achieved so effortlessly, the song winds and twists as the tale unfurls and canvases an experience that was so profound, that the impact of it will forever resonate and be repeated endlessly in ways that only reflection and hindsight will allow.

8 / 10

Building upon their earlier releases and continuing to amass a cult following, the New York fourpiece returns with another stellar psychedelia, pop, jazz, and rock, bliss out. Blending genres and experimentation as they do, the fusion of styles and sounds on AMAMA coalesce into another intoxicating and heady brew. Title track ‘AMAMA’ encapsulates the quintessential Crumb style. A crystalline tune with refracted Caribbean vibes, all delicately overlayed and superbly interwoven. A sonic prism that emits a joy and energy that is synonymous with the outfit and the playful approach they take to all of their work. The walking Casio lines on ‘Genie’ gently oscillate in keeping with Lila Ramani’s vocals. Like a semi-conscious thought wavering in and out of lucidity, the track fumbles with notions of control and duality as it dances in lockstep in a rhythmic loop that given enough time would have no end. Another masterclass in the constructional and orchestral prowess of Crumb is saved for the very last track. The pulsating echoes on ‘XXX’ mark the start of a riveting sensory experience that is best enjoyed with headphones on and held in place with a firm grip to create a vacuum for the ensuing sonic delights. The coaxing vocals of Ramani’s caresses gently as warm sonic waves wash over before a phat beat delineates between gearing up and getting down. Robotic movements and sun-kissed guitar guide us to the launch pad, ready for take-off and to blast into unknown pleasures before an abrupt edging. The anticipation of the next record begins.

7 / 10

This is garage at its finest. A record exquisitely blending the hallmarks of rough, angsty, firebrand guitar with considered harmonies and layering that goes well beyond the average punk record just thrashing it out for the sheer hell of it. The opening track ‘Shade’ does a fine job of it but launching into the single ‘Gleam’ just highlights beyond a shadow of a doubt the sincerity and credibility of this album. As if to stop themselves from leaping headlong into pure garage, ‘Warmer’ tempers the pace and quickly demonstrates the musical agility that the trio is capable of. Further to that is the fullness the kiwi three-piece produce as ‘Big Air’ and ‘Tightropes’ go on to show. A thick sound that extracts a lot more out of several instruments than one might expect. As the record unfurls and a sense of Office Dog style really begins to take shape, commonalities appear within the melodic musicality but what distinguishes them in many ways is their solid lyrical style. Tracks such as ‘In The Red’ and ‘Hand In Hand’ whilst showing some overlaps, highlight the evolved and detailed lyricism they bring to each track without solely leaning on the music alone to carry it through. Drilling down further into the idiosyncratic nuances of their garage stylings ‘Cut The Ribbon’ and ‘Teeth’ extrapolate the full width and breadth of their signature sound. Rounding out the album with the namesake track, ‘Spiel’ melds all of the light and dark facets the trio explore as sludgy basslines and scuzzy guitar coalesce to produce a heavy and saturated sound.

7 / 10

On a record that ebbs and flows, the exceptional highs bring the occasional lows back to equilibrium. There are several stand-out tracks on this, the fifth release by Englishmen Bill Ryder-Jones. The lead single ‘This Can’t Go On’ must have been a clear choice when considering what track to first put out. A truly magnificent piece with its heavenly overtones, strings, and sense of triumph in the face of insurmountable challenges. Similarly, the ecclesial ‘We Don’t Need Them’, ’And The Sea’ as well as ‘Nothing To Be Done.’ All have a divine feel whereby Jones is communing deeply on matters both immensely personal to him but also on subjects that are universal and are about the human condition. Anything along such lines can be a daunting task to pull off successfully and convey to a wide audience however when such matters resonate to one's core, it is such a tall ask to achieve. The well of emotion Jones is tapping flows strongly, and at times, overwhelmingly. Radiating in all directions this is a record that comes from an artist who with a wealth of knowledge and experience, can produce a career-defining piece. Emotive and uplifting ‘It’s Today Again’ drives home the thematic repertoire on the album. Jones croaky voice anchors to choral peaks of the piece and reinforces the ultimate point, not just in the music he is creating but in that of life itself as he chants “There is something great about life”. Also featuring heavily throughout is the piano. It’s perfect pairing with Jones vocals and the sentiments explored across the record are an ideal fitting. ‘How Beautiful I Am’ and ‘Nos Da’ are fine examples of such work. Not to be forgotten is the judicious use of strings throughout Iechyd Da simply for the elevating quality they bring to each track as ‘Thankfully For Anthony’ testifies to. There is a tenderness to this album which feels as though it has been born from life's many chaotic, painful, and joyful moments. A considered and well-executed collective that exemplifies Jones formidable lyrical and musical prowess.

7 / 10

An instantaneous eruption, the opener ‘My Little Tony’ bursts unapologetically into existence. Its commanding power chords, feverish drumming, and communal vox announce both the track and the trio’s signature style. The tinny and overexposed ‘Real House Wibes (Desperate House Vibes)’ begins with Nina Cristante opening vocal duties and again - as it so often with Bar Italia – passes the baton onto fellow band mates Jezmi Tarik Fehmi and Sam Fenton. Disjointed and irritated the track just holds itself together as it teeters on the verge of unravelling completely. A melodic and meandering ‘Twist’ describes the dilemma of options, competing choices, and split decisions. The alternating female and male vocals further echoes the duality, emphasising the point even more. Picking up the pace once again, ‘World’s Greatest Emoter’ feels as if the door was slightly left ajar on one of Bar Italia’s jam sessions. Allowing an insight into their creative processes as this garage, punk track spills out in all directions before its most abrupt end, like the voyeur has been suddenly caught. Off-kilter and off-key, ‘Calm Down With Me’ begins messily and yet again is amplified by the mixed vocals, emanating from mixed points of view. The shimmer and shake of ‘Shoo’ delves deep into a dark and broody psyche as it slips so seamlessly into ‘Que Surprise’.

7 / 10

The aquatic opener ‘Oh Lana’ wafts up from the depths in a slow and reflective manner. Georgia Nott having branched out from her familiar zone in Broods, releases a solo EP which really accentuates her songwriting and production skills. Echoes of New Wave can be found in ‘Easier To Run’, both with its distant guitar and steady basslines. A gentle pop number that is guided by Nott’s soft but commanding vocals. A nod by Nott to shoegaze, there are some wonderfully restrained guitars on ‘Happiness Is An 8 Ball’. Shifting styles, ‘So Free So Loney’ enters country Americana ably accompanied by a string section which ties the track together beautifully. Rounding off the EP ‘Fish Bird Baby Boy’ is a peaceful exit. Songbirds in the background, delicate piano, the track is perhaps the finest on the record and has a sense of exposure that is Nott as her rawest and most honest.

6 / 10

The understated and underappreciated Alexander Gow marks a triumphant return with his latest record. A formidable soloist, his musicianship and lyrical prowess are exemplary. Alt-country opener ‘The Truth Is Cruel’ effortlessly slides into focus, and not just for the guitar namesake but because of its gentle and approachable manner. One of the hallmarks of a great artist is in the way they shape melodies out of the intangible and ‘In The Grip of Something’ does so with ease. A floating track accompanied by pedal steel guitar and simple keys, its pairing with universal and eloquent lyricism makes for a wonderful match. A genuine country track ‘No More Never (For Now)’ with its brushed drums and violin it’s a cautious ode to avoid history repeating itself and when Gow speaks, we listen. The lullaby piano of ‘Fall to Pieces’ is exquisitely tender and echoes the sentiment of the piece beautifully. Soft backing vocals, aching strings and an uplifting acoustic allows the track to soar from places of sorrow and longing to a heartfelt embrace and solace. Similarly, with ‘What’s What’, the pull of Gow’s voice and desperate piano is hard to ignore. Drawn directly into the world in which he lives, the immersive piece coxes and lures with irresistible softness. Pining for adventure and worldly experiences before the ceaseless march of time overtakes the opportunity to witness life’s little wonders, ‘European Holiday’ is a wishful track. A delicately layered piece, the tongue in cheek ‘Jesus Almost Got Me’ recalls a time when a decision was made to stick to the well-trodden path Gow knows all too well rather than to verge off into an unknown and enticing place. Somber and reflective, ‘Easy Marriage’ oscillates between the existential and the personal. From the earliest days in Gow’s beloved Melbourne suburb of Fitzroy to contemplative thoughts of the world and its departure, the lyrical and metaphorical tightrope Gow treads remains steady and firm. Simple as it may be, ‘Fly To Me Soon’ although not sonically adventurous, is a sweet tale. A true storyteller, it is very easy to be whisked up by Gow’s flights of fancy and willingly be taken wherever he feels destined to go. As if gathered around the Steinway, ‘You’re So Funny’ is a rudimentary track which only serves to emphasis Gow’s vocals and to focus on the message at hand. The closing ‘A Modest Proposal’ winds down with a sequence of Gow’s wants and needs as he gently lets the listener off the next station as he continues, quietly for now, along his journey.

7 / 10

The Swedish four-piece kick the door open with ‘Monster’ on their debut EP. Gritty and melodic, the punchy number announces the act it a defiant way. Light and spacious, ‘Millionaire’ is a sweet track. Gentle horns delicately interwoven with Emma Jansson's vocals; it is the sounds of a Sunday come down. Supremely soft and ultimately alluring, the beguiling tune is an audible cuddle. The pop-punk ‘Boy In Blue’ takes its simple guitar chords and smashes them into some glockenspiel. The disjointed and incompatible blend echoes the lyrical sentiment of the tune, making for an uncomfortable marriage. The stripped-back ‘Bruises’ is a simple acoustic piece with minimal accompaniment. Perfectly suited to the tender subject matter of separation and heartache. A sprightly track ‘Mothers & Fathers’ harnesses recessive synth while an overt and up-tempo facade so enthusiastically fills the space. A musical mirror to the sentiment of the tune and about changing faces. An interesting and eclectic offering, the promise of more to come on a full length album is an attractive one.

6 / 10

Marking his sixth studio album, musician extraordinaire Jay Watson returns with Saturnia. Tracks like ‘Music Is Bigger Than Hair’, ‘In A Glasshouse (With No Light)’ and ‘It Lies A Lifetime’ show a real maturity in Watson’s music. A blend of acoustic, fuzzed out, psych free-for-all’s, a total embrace of his native tongue, and delicate string accompaniments, all culminating in a skillful and masterful orchestration. Unsurprising in that Watson had more time on his hands than on previous records. Extended bouts at home due to the global pandemic and arrival of a new child; events that each led to a lengthy timeframe and uninterrupted headspace that resulted in greater track detail and complexity. No slouch when it comes to creating, Watson has always been a tireless worker but even by his own admission, the arrangements had always been lacking somewhat. A focus that become a driving force on this record and it shows. Carefully interwoven tracks, thoughtful cohesion throughout, Saturnia is an album stands tall on the shoulders of his previous five works and indicates that yet so much more is to come as his orchestration and intuitive instrumentation skills meld together harmoniously and continue to develop in unison.

7 / 10

Twin to Carroll’s 2022 debut EP, Have A Party On Me, The After Party is her wonderful follow-up. The slightly bewildering brief intro of ‘Intentions (Reprise)’ quietly emerges from nowhere, faintly announcing itself with its stretched horn, funky organ, and slinky bass. The opening pitter-patter of drums on ‘Sometimes Good People Do Bad Things’ makes way for the suave semi-acoustic as the glittering sonic curtains part for Carroll’s commanding vocals to take centre stage. With a quick step in tempo, the pace picks up as the unfolding tale is delivered in distinctive and characteristic Carroll fashion. Breathing in with slide guitar and breathing out with restrained drums, ‘Monogamy’ bemoans an aftermath as time, money, and spirit are all left in short supply. Showcasing all of Caroll’s prowess, ‘Shower Song’ is a haunting and revealing piece. The lock and key between her lyricism and the beguiling guitar work produce nothing less than a hypnotising track. Filled with everyday items and less-than-ordinary experiences, Carroll’s threadbare vocals cox and tease before delivering the knock-out punch. The organ on ‘Sleep On My Side’ tip-toes around Carroll’s flinty vocals, as a percussive hush falls over the track. It speaks in a clear autobiographical manner yet there is a mystique to the subject matter that is aided by the achingly slow pace it is pronounced. Strumming empathically for a damaged soul, ‘Novelty Seeker’ gently broaches the topic of self and weaves a narrative into the fabric of this beautiful tune. On the cusp of exploding, it never does as it yields and copulates with the utmost respect, showing delicate restraint in the process.

6 / 10

The sheer unadulterated free for all that is Prison is only tempered by their mastery of controlled chaos. Upstate, their latest release is another delivery in long-form, expressive, and wild sonic ramblings. Straight out of the gates ‘Hold the Building Up ／ The Prison Within’ sees Sarim Al-Rawi (Liquor Store), Mike Fellows (The Mighty Flashlight), Sam Jayne (who sadly passed in 2020, R.I.P.), Matt Lilly and Paul Major (Endless Boogie) bolt in seemingly random directions yet the tether binding them, and for that matter the album, is how each of the disparate contributions layer so carefully over one another. Hypnotic bass, far-flung guitar licks, howls, and groans, all meld together in a hot mess across this sprawling fifteen-minute free for all. From depths comes ‘Hold ’Em Up ／ Comin' Down on Me’ with its clanging and banging. A guttural and tribal beat marches defiantly ever forward. Picking up momentum, the pace quickens and an upwelling rises to the fore with a steady fuzz holding the line ensuring the vision isn’t lost and no deviation from the cause at hand is possible. Relatively speaking, ‘Low Hangin' Disco Ball ／ So Alone’ takes the form of a more traditional track with its rhythmic guitar and comprehensible vocals. A slow burn, the smouldering track gently sways back and forth as it lurches from washed-out reverb to sludgy bassline whilst remaining propped up by vox before it awakens from its stupor. It begins with a cough and a splatter but by song's end, ‘I Always Get What I Want ／ Playin' Pool With the Planets’ is nothing short of a sonic excursion. By far the longest track on the album, which is no small feat considering the extensive range of Prison’s musical wanderings, it feels like a true journey. Marching off into the distance ‘Destroy ／ Cookin' With Heat’ with its thick basslines and swirling guitars threatens to disband itself. The four horsemen of the apocalypse each galloping into an unknown brutalized wilderness as only Prison can.

7 / 10

The sheer unadulterated free for all that is Prison is only tempered by their mastery of controlled chaos. Upstate, their latest release is another delivery in long-form, expressive, and wild sonic ramblings. Straight out of the gates ‘Hold the Building Up ／ The Prison Within’ sees Sarim Al-Rawi (Liquor Store), Mike Fellows (The Mighty Flashlight), Sam Jayne (who sadly passed in 2020, R.I.P.), Matt Lilly and Paul Major (Endless Boogie) bolt in seemingly random directions yet the tether binding them, and for that matter the album, is how each of the disparate contributions layer so carefully over one another. Hypnotic bass, far-flung guitar licks, howls, and groans, all meld together in a hot mess across this sprawling fifteen-minute free for all. From depths comes ‘Hold ’Em Up ／ Comin' Down on Me’ with its clanging and banging. A guttural and tribal beat marches defiantly ever forward. Picking up momentum, the pace quickens and an upwelling rises to the fore with a steady fuzz holding the line ensuring the vision isn’t lost and no deviation from the cause at hand is possible. Relatively speaking, ‘Low Hangin' Disco Ball ／ So Alone’ takes the form of a more traditional track with its rhythmic guitar and comprehensible vocals. A slow burn, the smouldering track gently sways back and forth as it lurches from washed-out reverb to sludgy bassline whilst remaining propped up by vox before it awakens from its stupor. It begins with a cough and a splatter but by song's end, ‘I Always Get What I Want ／ Playin' Pool With the Planets’ is nothing short of a sonic excursion. By far the longest track on the album, which is no small feat considering the extensive range of Prison’s musical wanderings, it feels like a true journey. Marching off into the distance ‘Destroy ／ Cookin' With Heat’ with its thick basslines and swirling guitars threatens to disband itself. The four horsemen of the apocalypse each galloping into an unknown brutalized wilderness as only Prison can.

7 / 10

Don’t be fooled by this part-time politician and his forays into the world of local government, for Hayden Pedigo is a musician first and foremost. One that loves his state and country. So much so, he ran a highly successful and comedic venture in support of his local community. This passion and love affair for his sunburnt state extends into every facet of his life. The life that Hayden Pedigo has been living is one filled with music and musings for his homeland. His latest record is a sonic meandering through the sand and soul of the Texan story so told by his exquisite and heartfelt instrumental works. Such tracks as ‘When It’s Clear’ create evocative soundscapes in which words would only serve as blunt objects and it’s in the absence of lyrics that Pedigo shows his hand. ‘Elsewhere’ showcases Pedigo’s immense finger-picking talent. A beautifully layered track intermixed with wafts of steel pedal guitar as it unfurls across a sprawling six minutes. Big sky country produces expansive and contemplative music, and Pedigo readily taps into this as ‘Signal of Hope’ and ‘Then It’s Gone’ attest. The Happiest Times I Ever Ignored is a southern beauty bathed in the reflective light of Pedigo’s external world and innermost feelings. Echoed symbiotically through his emotive and visceral expressions, these instrumental pieces are both wonderfully tender and proudly stoic.

6.5 / 10

Three years on since Ultimate Success Today and nothing has been lost between records as Formal Growth In The Desert reinstates the dominance of Detroit’s Protomartyr. Kicking open the doors ‘Make Way’ announces itself defiantly in characteristic fashion. The impassioned yelps from Joe Casey on ‘Elimination Dances’ hints at the place of urgency from which Protomartyr is coming from. Descending further down the spiral, ‘Fun In Hi Skool’ recalls those heavy memories that upon reflection are far from fond. The hot mess of chaotic guitars and drums that Protomartyr corral so effectively as they wrestle their own self-created acoustic beasts particularly stands out on ‘Graft Vs. Host’ and ‘3800 Tigers’. Known for their throttling and irrepressible sounds, Protomartyr’s ability to produce tender and heartfelt tracks is the quality that separates them from other noise acts. Their tendency to round off an album in this way features again on Formal Growth In The Desert as ‘Rain Garden’ deescalates the fever pitch whipped up by Casey and the gang. Across the twelve tracks, the astute social observations, political awareness, and morally just viewport from which their subject matter and lyrics are deprived have put them on the pedestal they deservingly sit upon. And as they dispense their firebrand of garage, post-punk, they do so with a voice that is only gaining in strength and pertinence in a world that they have long railed against as deafeningly forewarned to a mute world.

7 / 10

The wonderfully gifted wordsmith and Skaters frontman Michael Ian Cummings delivers a clever, honest, and observational EP. Requiring hemispheric attention to appreciate both the lyrical craftsmanship and simultaneous musicianship, listening to Oldest Troubles is a dual task and a great problem to have. A gentle escort into Cummings world, ‘Ways To Feel’ with its echoes of steel pedal guitar questions reality. The self-reflective and contemplative ‘Contemporary Me’ threatens to break its shackles as it is constantly on the verge of ripping open and unleashing a tirade of explosive guitar, but Cummings contains it just enough to express his thoughts as a modern man. Tackling life now and life then, ‘Oldest Troubles’ faces head-on the fracturing of youthful ideals and disconnection between past and present. Its string accompaniment creates a noble and quiet dignity to Cummings pensive thoughts. In ‘Suburban Crackhouse Beats’ the medley of guitars jockey for dominance as they oscillate between fuzz and fidelity all whilst Cummings laments a faded relationship. The vast sonic soundscape that ‘Hooray For None’ opens up is a beautiful one as it lights up a sunny place for shady people. Taking a bold step into the unknown, it beckons one to follow, to join in, and to understand. The auditory picture Cummings paints of Oldest Troubles is tangible. Made so by vulnerable storytelling and exquisite pairing of sophisticated musicianship.

8 / 10

Distortion to 11, scuzzy guitars, and disintegrating drum breaks, ‘Freaks’ is the bench setter for Girl with Fish. The record is an amalgamation of noise pop, indie, DIY, and alt-rock and features a little bit of everything scattered throughout. Emphasizing the point, the collision of cowbells, backmasking and fuzzy fx on ‘Tin Man’ takes these disparate elements and with brute force melds them together magnificently. Elevating the hazy and heady guitars that Feeble Little Horse harnesses so effectively to the next level, ‘Steamroller’ maxes out the fuzz as singer-bassist Lydia Slocum muses about footpaths and fucking. Brief and elementary ‘Heaven’ slows the pace down before Slocum’s vocals turn electric and fizzle out. Shifting gear, the wobbly and upbeat ‘Paces’ plods progressively as it marches to its own beat. Echoes of My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Loveless’ radiate off ‘Sweet’ with clear parallels to the genre-defining band which guitarists Ryan Walchonski and Sebastian Kinsler take hefty helpings of. The acoustic plucking and arcade parlour undertones of ‘Slide’ gives way to ear-melting heavy reverb in another show of shoegaze strength. The jumbled-up ‘Healing’ is a fairy tale mish-mash of tinkering toy instruments and random thoughts. Spilling over into ‘Pocket’ the flickering vocals of Slocum and the clunky repetition of its namesake bleeds into a distorted and disorientating climax. Reminiscent in more ways than one, ‘Station’ has the atmospheric touch of playing back an old film as the antique reel faulters and crackles. This translates seamlessly with the lyrical reflection Slocum ponders over. Rounding out the album ‘Heavy Water’ is a microcosm of the record itself as it features so many of the elements that comprise the wider piece. For an album that the Pittsburgh natives were never set to make, Girl with Fish is a welcome edition and hopefully not their last.

7 / 10

Right from the eloquent opener, the album is a tender and beautiful body of work. Purely instrumental and specifically piano, Weird Time Signature is simply gorgeous. Each track allows one’s mind to be gently opened and allowed to lightly explore in any given direction. As if caught in an unexpected rain shower, ‘Tachypsychia’ feels like a soft sonic shower coating the senses. A meandering and quiet piece, ‘Emergence’ takes its time in reaching its conclusion. The track breaks into a brief stride before, resting and continuing its own journey. In a similar vein ‘Reminiscence’ continues down the path that Cohen is laying down. Each track brings us closer to Cohen’s inner workings as he extends a welcoming hand. ‘Tongariro’ ushers us further into the ethereal as it wafts effortlessly around the cerebral and dances delicately before it fades into ‘Daybreak’. The faltering start of ‘Microgravity’ creates an anticipation of what will unfold and where Cohen intends on taking the track and for that matter the mood. Unfurling ever so slowly, it faintly releases its inner harmonies with the lightest of touches. Much as the name suggests, ‘Flicker’ begins with steady caresses. Each key is struck with a pulsating rhythm that bleeds into one another. The culmination of the record takes the form of ‘Fifths 2.0’ as it is the summation of each preceding track. Uniting all aspects of the album and Cohen’s approach to carving out his signature sound. The tune holds in balance a sense of light and dark which remains in a state of flux. Rounding out the record is the self-titled ‘Weird Time Signature’. As long and winding as the start of the album, the sonic excursion that Cohen has taken the listener on throughout the record feels that it is completing the loop from whence it began. Technically exquisite and compositionally magnificent, the way in which Cohen can coax emotive sensations with his deft touch is simply magical.

8 / 10

Building on their Expectations and Tanning Beds EP’s, the Oakland post-punk trio finally deliver their debut record. The metronome ‘Forget That It’s Summer’ oscillates back and forth with its precise bass and lyrical rhythm. The opening track and the album’s longest. Once you are in the groove and on board with their sound, the rest of the journey is filled with young blood and firepower as they explore themes of anxiety and helplessness. Lighting quick fretwork makes ‘Gate’ a speedy and wide-eyed track. Held steady by solid basslines, the track moves energetically as if ready to break its confines at any minute. With a Jangling Fender, steady percussion, and a more expansive vocal range, there is a real Guided By Voices feel to the jammed-packed ‘Time Is Calling’. Slower but ‘Angela’ begins with barely a second’s pause between tracks. The speed ball-like sequence of tracks on Dressing doesn’t allow much time for appreciating and savouring each song as they roll along so quickly however it makes repeat listening to the album an enticing prospect. The barrelling thick basslines of ‘Superminds’ sets the tone for parroting vocals and punchy guitar licks. The same steady thump continues for ‘Hollow Ego’ and draws attention to how fundamental bass is to the Low Praise signature sound. Always a refreshing approach to pull forward instruments that are generally recessive and not employed to their full capabilities. This most certainly can not be said for the tracks throughout Dressing and parallels to Protomartyr and The Walkmen are very deserving. The bent sounds of ‘No Way’ flex to the will of Chris and Warren’s vocals as it melds into the final track ‘Entertainment. A slowed-down pace and a gentle lowering of pace that has preceded everything that has come before it.

8 / 10

The most gentile of openers, ‘City Baby’ is Jonathan Bree opening a music box. As the pins on the rotating metal cylinder are plucked by a metal comb, strings waft in to aid Bree’s crooning as he describes a girl in the city. The soft eighties disco vibes of ‘Pre-Code Hollywood’ typify the style of the album, setting the tone for the whole record. Featuring the legendary Nile Rodgers, Bree managers to attract some quality contributors across the album. Firing up the 808, ‘When We Met’ channels the drum machine and high synth sounds to great effect. The pure pop ‘Miss You’ is a sugary sweet delight conjuring all manner of delusional eighties joy that feels best placed in a cheesy film of the time but pays a nostalgic tribute to an era that fascinates so many. On more of a sobering note ‘We’ll All Be Forgotten’ steps down a notch and although still largely a synth track, the addition of acoustic and guitars puts some distance between kitsch and pastiche. Taking a softer approach ‘Epicurean’ revisits Bree’s music box but with harmonic vocals and flickering beats. The electronic ‘Politics’ fuses Bree’s deeper vocals perfectly with a seesawing synth and drum machine. Extending that feeling and entering the darker realms reminiscent of Drab Majesty, ‘You Are The Man’ slides effortlessly into a more cynical territory. Bree’s drawn-out and exaggerated deep vocals only accentuate the pessimistic sentiment further. ‘Destiny’ tracks like that of an arcade game, entering a world of computer-aided fun as it merges seamlessly into the closing track ‘Steel and Glass’. The gravelly vocals of Bree suit the cold city he attempts to describe. Faint echoes of sirens are interspersed with a sonic fluttering of crystalline synths. What the album lacks in diversity, it makes up for in consistency. A conduit between sounds of old and a fresh take on an established scene, Bree successfully joins the two through his signature style.

6 / 10

Rising to prominence as an original member of Melbourne’s indie darlings Underground Lovers, Philippa Nihill stepped out on her own many years ago, carving out a name for herself. Releasing multiple solo records whilst still retaining her Underground Lovers duties, Nihill again delivers another album and in 2023 has given us ‘Find Her Way’. Something of a catalyst for the album was Nihill rediscovering her old family piano and that is immediately evident by the opener ‘Superceder’. An exceptional vocalist Nihill has always been but in ‘Big Song’ and ‘Glisten’, there is more of a stately feel. Confident and sure in her delivery and musical accompaniment, her stature only continues to grow. The pop delight ‘Light Dream’ is a simple track hop, skipping and bounding along, the lightness of the tune echoes it’s namesake. Floating strings and flute are the basis of ‘Love Song for Sierra Nevada’ as it gently takes flight and wafts passively whilst Nihill takes a memorable journey. Why ‘Getaway’ was chosen as the single for the album becomes easy to see when hearing the piano and Nihill’s oscillating vocals. The sonic waves she creates mirror the waves she describes riding in the lyrics as this beautiful tune meanders effortlessly and achingly along. The piano heavy tracks of ‘Endless’ ‘The Stars Can Come Too Again’ and ‘Sunrise’ showcase Nihill as she was as much as she is now. There is a classic feel to each of these tracks but with a true sense of age and wisdom that are imbued in the very depths of the subject matter she explores. A testament to Nihill’s ongoing sonic pursuits, this album dutifully adds to her rich back catalogue and lays another stone on her long and successful solo path.

6.5 / 10

We Know The Sky is like a lullaby. Sweet, gentle, and embracing but do not be fooled into believing that belying all of Susannah Cutler’s tender melodies and sugary sounds that heavy topics are not being explored. In fact, the subtle and easy approach of the album is by far and away its greatest asset. So easy is it to feel a separation between artist and listener at times, that with We Know The Sky there is nothing of the sort. The welcoming nature of the album and affectionate delivery of each track not only makes the subject matter digestible but thoroughly enjoyable. A gem of an album that will bury its way into your heart and provide refuge when it is needed.

6.5 / 10

A refrained opener, ‘It Comes Closer’ offers a tantalizing taste of what the Boston trio has to offer on what is their eighth studio album. Slow, ghostly, and cavernous, the track moves gently as the record unfurls into ‘Loops’. Held steady by the rhythmic drumming of Kris Kuss and stern vocals of Rick Maguire, the track staggers between fever and fatigue. Side-stepping into the disorientating, ‘Gardening Hours’ takes a free-form approach as it wavers between structure and sheer experimentation. Occasionally rained in but generally allowed to roam, the track is very much the essence of the record. A hybrid tune, ‘Link Arms’ fuses a meandering low-slung baseline and bolts a string section to it whilst both disparate elements are held in place by Maguire’s vocals as he wrestles with the ebb and flow of each. The soul-searching ‘Blood’ quietly asks itself questions that can neither be fully understood nor answered. In relative terms, the brevity of ‘Lowered Rainbow’ is made up for by its complex layering and sonic cross thatch that is as intricate as it is delicate. Whilst being the shortest track on the album, it perhaps deserves the leading role as All Ficton’s central figure. The summation of Pile in full flight. The imperceptible intro to ‘Forgetting’ escalates slowly but is a background track more than anything particularly noteworthy yet ‘Poisons’ begins with a crash and boom. Cymbals and stands clang as the peaking drum and guitars swell around Maguire’s vocals. Like an auditory circle pit, it is the focal point of Maguire that everything else jostles around, mashing and bashing together. The marching beat of ‘Nude with a Suitcase’ takes a disintegrated sound and blends it with an organ as it provides a rigidity that Maguire strays from throughout. As it escalates with chunky guitar strokes it simultaneously is rained upon with the most gentle of reverb. Yet again another exquisite balancing act that Pile maintains as they continue to walk a tightrope of free form, avant garde, and rock ballad. As if escorted from the mind and world of Pile, ‘Neon Gray’ takes a positive exist to All Ficton. The soft touch, strings and eventual fade out is a delicate outro and one that already leaves you wanting more.

6.5 / 10

A powerful EP with its substance far deeper than what its four tracks belie. Each tune could be the basis for an entire album. The stylistic and atmospheric culmination of each song could be broken down into its constituent parts and reassembled in full to produce whole works of art. The opener ‘Death day (Sing To Me)’ gently nudges the door open into the world of First Day of Spring. A flickering beat accompanied by slow horns and keys paves the way for an atmospheric build. Stopping abruptly, the immediate commencement resumes with a light overlay of ghostly vocals before the track comes to a resounding end. The call and response, male and female commentary at the start of ‘Moon Boy’ which features snippets of the Charles Baudelaire poem ‘Be Drunk, gives way to soothing strings that are punctuated with sharp highlights. Paired with soft textures, a richness of both electronica and reverb blend effortlessly with the strings. The nursery rhythm xylophone of ‘Normal Person (Love You Forever)’ is met with a fuzz that is more of a fizzle. That fade of a relationship and a parting of ways. Perhaps as brief as the relationship, the track is short but resonates with one simple message, love you forever. On the other hand, ‘Operation’ bolts out of the gates and merges all aspects of electronica, synth and guitar into a strong fusion. Confident and flowing, the track exponentially builds with keys as the vocals keep pace in this fast-moving track.

6 / 10

Traversing the stylistic globe, Breanna Barbara amalgamates genres, scrambles them and fashions something entirely new. The opening two tracks Diamond Light and Landslide take in everything from surfer psych-rock through to fuzzed-out synth disco. Nothin But Time is the title track and one that embodies the essence of the whole album. Written as a love letter to New York City, her ode to the Big Apple is adorned with lyrical iconography and stands tall amongst a collection of tracks that each in their own way are big tunes. The galloping pace of songs such as Rise are tempered with gentile and tender tunes like Old Soul. An exquisite follow-up to her debut Mirage Dreams and as sophomore records go one of the finest to grace our turntable in years.

8 / 10

Melbourne artist Elizabeth Drummond steps out on her own after the success but the ultimate end of her initial outfit Little May. The plucky opener of ‘Crisis’ kicks off with a basic Casio drumbeat and narrative lyrism. Accompanied by steady guitar, the track sets the tone for the rest of the EP and what is within Drummonds bag of music tricks. The imploding fuzzed-out sounds of ‘Congratulations’ with its seething lyrics showcases Elizabeth’s sonic strengths. Bruised and brooding it highlights just what one woman, a guitar, and a bitter memory can conjure with spitting precision. The delicate opening of ‘Underground’ is tender in its delivery. Fused with minimal electronica and open chords, the angelic vocals of Drummond have their chance to shine. Subdued and simple, the folk stylings of ‘Bullet’ is a gentle ode. Aided by heartfelt cello and slide guitar, the countryana track is a beautiful and honest piece. Mixing some minimal beats and blending more of a traditional pop song, ‘I Lied’ stays true to Drummond’s naive approach following a simplistic but authentic style. Rounding off the EP, ‘Love My Way’ the Psychedelic Furs cover retains the essential eighties feel but paired right back, its solitary nature matches perfectly with Drummonds aesthetic.

6 / 10

It may only be a paltry three-track EP but what Ora Cogan lacks in quantity is well and truly made up by the quality of each tune. As we have come to expect with all her work, the compositional finesse and exquisite layering of each instrument with harmonious precision is a beauty to behold. The self-titled ‘Dyed’ is a perfect case in point. A Middle Eastern-flavoured guitar lick permeates throughout with a hypnotic and attention-focusing clarity. Ora’s angelic vocals glide over the rhythmic clicking that holds the track true and steady as descending synth’s float downward. Covering PJ Harvey’s ‘To Bring You My Love’, the vacant space that Ora creates is remarkable when considering the original and how she strips it bare. Like a lost soul wandering an ancient desert, as covers go, Ora has delivered a beautiful and timeless tribute to such an esteemed artist. Amongst the hiss and static ‘Diver’ emerges from a sonic shroud. A backbone of distortion and minimal guitar becomes bathed in aural warmth as it washes over Ora’s vocals before ultimately drowning out everything to the exclusion of the solitary guitar.

6 / 10

Achingly beautiful, deep, soulful, and elemental. The ease at which Samana takes your soul on a spiritual journey is frightening. An immersive album that lifts off immediately and meanders delicately through ten atmospheric tracks. It traverses the ebbs and flows of time and emotion before gently arriving at his destination and letting the listener depart having had a rich and soulful experience imparted upon them. Basic in its construction, therein lies the skill and subtlety of the record. Consisting simply of vocals, electric and acoustic guitar along with occasional strings, the mood the duo of Rebecca Rose and Franklin Mocket create is striking. One does not even need to listen to the lyrics or burden themselves with the sentiments being expressed throughout the album, it is simply a sonic and solitary experience just listening to the harmonious and exquisite synchronicity of Rose and Franklin echoing one another. This album could have been produced one hundred years ago or one hundred years from now, it is ageless and a touching piece of work that elevates the listener to a greater place, a greater sense of it all and asks for nothing but offers so much. A remarkable record.

8 / 10