#Kyle Gilbride

[mywifeleftme]

128: Swearin' // Swearin'

Swearin' Swearin' 2012, Salinas (Bandcamp)

I never saw Swearin’ at a house show (though the bar I did see them at held maybe 30 people), but in the same way the smell of Sambuca makes my saliva queasily thicken, the second the needle drops on their s/t I get notes of Pabst, cigarette-couch/carpet, hot scalp, the wine of an overworked fan, giggling, keys jingling on carabiners, floor-lamp lighting, amp sizzle. (Pinning this idea for a band name here: Dirty Madeleine.)

Inane tag cloud ideas: loft apartment indie; park drinking punk; bike messenger affirmations; co-opcore; foragestyle; couch surf rock.

Me, as a YouTube commenter in nine years: I made out for the second time with the first girl I ever moved in with at a Swearin’ show! We don’t talk anymore, but I hope she is well.

Anyway, Swearin’ was always my fav of the Crutchfield twins’ many projects, emerging from the breakup of Birmingham, Alabama’s fondly remembered P.S. Eliot when Allison decided to pursue her own voice as a songwriter and move to NYC. She ended up dating and forming a band with Kyle Gilbride of Big Soda, and that band was Swearin’, so now you’re caught up.

The Crutchfield Twins’ Many Projects

Pre-2007: The Ackleys (Allison + Katie) 2007-2011: P.S. Eliot (Allison + Katie) 2011-present: Waxahatchee (Katie) 2012-2015, 2017-present?: Swearin’ (Allison) 2014-2017?: Allison Crutchfield solo 2022: Plains (Katie)

Robert Christgau said of P.S. Eliot, “Always there is the sound of becoming that the young treasure for one reason and the ex-young value for quite another,” and I think he’s on to what makes both Katie and Allison’s ‘00s and early ‘10s music so appealing—though the diaristic lyrics are angsty, sometimes irritable, or glum, there’s a comforting sense that they’re cool young people who are going to be Alright in the end. Even though the people in these songs may not have the details figured out, they know what the life they want feels like—and that translates into the aesthetics of the music. For Swearin’, it’s a form of comfortably broken-in indie rock with its influences (Breeders, the Merge Records catalogue, ‘90s pop punk, Julianna Hatfield etc.) so thoroughly subsumed that it sounds whole. Gilbride’s a big vocal presence here as well, his adenoidal whine a welcome contrast to Allison’s unfussed ‘90s alternative vibe. He takes lead on one of the self-titled’s real winners, the irresistible problem-party-guest narrative “Crashin’,” complete with a riff and solo that’d get a goofy thumbs up from the boys in Superchunk.

An album that is top-to-bottom charming like this one only needs a single stone classic to stay in the rotation for the long haul, and Swearin’ has one in “Just.” It’s an all-time romantic song in my personal canon, headlong as a crazy kiss in an alley, popping ‘60s girl group poses in the verses, with a chorus as elemental as they come. Crutchfield’s lyrics don’t miss either, mingling hesitation (“Closed off from love / I didn’t need the pain”) and dizzy desire (“I knew you had me the night we met / my empty room dripping wet / make believe we’re in my bed”).

Other Choice Words:

“Tennessee River, a drunken relapse / And her new girlfriend, she’s got a new girlfriend now.” (“Movie Star”) “Kings of the Airwaves / deprive and depraved / Fruit from the market / Demo tape cassette” (“Hundreds & Thousands”) “An artist’s mind / is stimulated by the aesthetic / I don’t know about art / but I think your music’s shit.” (“Fat Chance”)

Swearin’ cut a second very good record before calling it quits when Gilbride and Crutchfield broke things off, but they had a fine comeback with 2018’s Fall into the Sun, and I surely wouldn’t mind more from them. Consider this a call for like, Steve Malkmus to dial them up next time Pavement needs an opening act. Let’s do this.

128/365

[sguezen-blog]

Swearin's 2012 self-titled album is still one my all-time favourites

Swearin’s 2012 self-titled album is still one my all-time favourites

(Photo by Jesse Riggins, taken from the Swearin’ Facebook page) I don’t even remember how or when I heard about this band, but after a couple listens of their self titled album I was completely hooked. It’s got a sense of rawness and honesty that I think so much indie rock is missing these days. It’s moody, sarcastic, and cynical punk music that manages to stay optimistic and thoughtful all the…

[sinceileftyoublog]

Remember Sports Live Preview: 11/17, Beat Kitchen, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I first caught wind of Philadelphia-based indie rock band Remember Sports (fka Sports) in 2015, when they released All Of Something, their first album for Father/Daughter Records, produced by Kyle Gilbride. But they wouldn’t have gotten to the state of working with better-known indie rock fixtures without Sunchokes, released when the band members were still at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. Sunchokes was released again on cassette in 2016, and after a split single in 2017 and another new record last year, the band is ready to again revisit what made them break out. Friday saw the release of a deluxe edition of Sunchokes, remastered by band friend Lucas Knapp, released on vinyl and CD for the first time. As with many reissues, the release contains bonus tracks--three demos and five Addie Pray versions (the solo project of lead singer Carmen Perry)--and a book of photos and playlists.

To celebrate the deluxe treatment, Remember Sports, who now consist of Perry (vocals and guitar), bassist Catherine Dwyer, guitarist Jack Washburn, and drummer Connor Perry, are touring Sunchokes in full, then doing a second set of favorites from the remainder of their discography. Having seen them at a summer street festival--not the ideal place for bands to make a first impression--I can confirm that they’re a remarkably venerable live act, loose players that are nonetheless tight as a unit, in nice harmony throughout.

Lisa Prank, the pop punk project of multi-instrumentalist Robin Edwards, opens.

Sunchokes (Deluxe Edition) by Remember Sports

[thebowerypresents]

Swearin’ Close Out Reunion Tour and Reveal a New Beginning

Swearin’ – Music Hall of Williamsburg – October 20, 2018

When Swearin’ called it a day a few years ago, they left behind a nearly flawless discography. Two full-lengths and an EP of pitch-perfect Breeders-meets–Built to Spill–inspired hook-filled tunes that mastered the subtle art of loud-quiet-loud that was unparalleled by the rest of their peers. The reasons behind them breaking up in the first place have been the focal point of most of the their recent press, so we won’t get into that here. But the band’s absence was a cause for concern for Superchunk’s Mac McCaughn and Laura Ballance as they had taken Swearin’ on tour last spring and signed them to an album deal with their label, Merge, for their highly anticipated new release, Fall into the Sun.

In reviews for other acts that have gone through this kind of break, journalists always use the phrase “they picked up right where they left off” as a good sign. But, Swearin’ are writing a newfound wisdom that only strengthens their attack. They finished their tour on Saturday night at Music Hall of Williamsburg. When the band took the stage a little after 10 p.m., it seemed like the crowd needed a little bit of a jolt. But as soon as singer Allison Crutchfield began playing the opening chords to the new song “Big Change,” you could sense a change in the room. From then on, Swearin’ were in complete control. The audience was transfixed as the five-piece switched back and forth from Crutchfield’s powerful, honey-coated vocals to lead guitarist and cosinger Kyle Gilbride’s piercing drawl.

As songwriters, Crutchfield and Gilbride tend to write from a place of hindsight and hard-won knowledge. And while they rarely tend to trade off lyrics in songs, you can tell that their collective energy is what makes Swearin’ such a special act among the sea of bands mining the sounds of early alternative rock. While they dusted off some of their best songs from their original run, like “Here to Hear” and “Dust in the Gold Sack,” the standout on Saturday was the Gilbride-led new song “Future Hell.” The track takes listeners on a hallucinatory journey through a world coming apart at the seams and ends with a blazing, fuzzed-out solo. The group closed their main set with the achingly beautiful “Movie Star,” off their 2012 self-titled album, which drew a swell of cheers from a roomful of people who had realized what they’d been missing during the years Swearin’ had been gone. For the encore, Crutchfield reappeared onstage solo to play the Fall into the Sun ballad “Anyway” before the rest of the band walked down the steel stairs from backstage to close out the performance with the new pulsating rocker “Grow into a Ghost.” While the band is in fighting shape, you could tell that this is a new beginning for one of indie rock’s underappreciated creative forces. Long live Swearin’. —Pat King | @MrPatKing

[musiccosmosru]

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

[fortherecordpodcast]

For the Record #93: Swearin's "Fall into the Sun"

Swearin' is originally from Philadelphia and broke up three years ago when members Allison Crutchfield and Kyle Gilbride ended their romantic relationship. But, now, five years after their last album, they're back with an insightful record that tells the story of moving on after a breakup from two different perspectives. We discuss "Fall into the Sun" in-depth on episode #93 of "For the Record."

Episode link: http://fortherecordpodcast.com/podcasts/media/2018-10-21_ftr-episode-93-swearin-fall-into-the-sun.mp3

Subscribe to the podcast by clicking here for iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/for-the-record-with-gg-and-adam/id943710156, or by copying and pasting this XML feed into your favorite podcatcher’s "subscribe" field: http://fortherecordpodcast.com/podcasts/feed.xml

Stream the episode via your browser here:

Or tune in to BFF.fm to hear us every other Thursday at 9:30am!

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHARLY BLISS - HEAVEN

[6.90]

Artist named Charli/y wants to go back to 1999...

Julian Axelrod: My aversion to scratchy-voiced '90s revival rock made me slightly skeptical of Guppy, but "Heaven" smashes a pie in the face of my expectations. The hooks are sharper, the riffs are gnarlier, and the quiet-loud tension delivers a bigger catharsis when they rip into another barrage. There's an obvious irony to a song called "Heaven" that sounds like a slow descent into hell, but Eva Hendricks's sugar-high drone offers brief moments of salvation amidst the carnage. It's a fresher, bolder take on grunge, suggesting an alternate universe where Toadies ruled the decade instead of Nirvana. Maybe Charly Bliss isn't reviving rock's past, but positioning themselves as figureheads of rock's future. [8]

Jibril Yassin: Charly Bliss work in a genre full of hundreds of underrepresented bands whose entire discographies are currently languishing in a landfill or, worse, a power-pop fan's record collection. What's made them stand out is their endless energy and talent for crafting incredibly catchy songs with hooks and guitar riffs better than your '90s fave. On "Heaven," Eva Hendricks floats above the maelstrom of heavy guitars, opting to avoid the emotional bluntness that defined her Guppy lyrics to offer something akin to domestic bliss with a loved one. It's the best slow dance ballad the Angus soundtrack never got. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: The Wholesale Meats and Fish to Guppy's Josie and the Pussycats soundtrack, a dispatch from a world where the former album is so canonical nobody needed to look it up. If only that were our world and there was an abiding scene, maybe something like Burger Records without the teenage-dirtbag skew. (If there is, please correct me, with audio links.) Also, a band that knows their appeal, whether served sugary or crunchy; when I saw them play in Brooklyn earlier this year, they announced to a roaring crowd (paraphrased) "This is a song about a CRUSH!" (In an alternate world, Carly Rae Jepsen is the third frontwoman of Veruca Salt. Discuss.) Extra point for the "daughters and daughters and daughters" bridge, as feminist as anything that'll get credit for it this year. [9]

Katie Gill: Since Weezer's devolved into complete and utter parody, I'm glad that Charly Bliss has taken over their rulers-of-college-radio title. This song is a joy! The pounding grunge-ish chords contrast perfectly with Eva Hendricks's childish, lilting voice. It's an amazing combination that the structure of the song flatters WONDERFULLY. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: That skyward-looking chorus, a case of truth in advertising, is really all you need. The zigzagging, Speedy Ortiz-esque guitar lines can be appreciated on their own terms, but they seem to exist in a separate dimension from the rest of the song; something had to fill all that empty space. As someone raised on wordy, shouty punk, there was a time when this vague, shadowy lyricism would have gotten on my nerves, but it suits the pensive mood, and the gut-punch line about daughters lends a dash of meaning to the formlessness. [6]

Vikram Joseph: For a song called "Heaven," this feels more like a queasy purgatory -- closer to the sludgy, soured-in-the-sun grunge of Kyle Gilbride's half of a Swearin' album than the sugar rush of earlier Charly Bliss singles. It ransacks a different section of the '90s alt cupboard to Guppy, and although Eva Hendricks' Kim Deal sing-speak impression in the middle eight is a nice diversion, "Heaven" is certainly less fun for it (although, what could possibly be as fun as "Westermarck"?). Like Swearin', Charly Bliss really bloom when they fuse sweet and sour into an acerbic confection, but the sweetness never turns up here, and it doesn't feel nearly hyper enough. I guess this is growing up. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: It's all about the swing of the chorus, the most effective bit being Eva Hendricks's delivery of the titular line. "Now that I'm in heaven," she sings, sounding absolutely elated as her voice drifts into space, and it's only the second time around that she comes back down to earth to complete her thought: "...with you." It's a simple but affecting portrait of love's all-consuming nature, how the feelings that arise from being with someone can be more exciting than that actual someone. This frenetic, love-struck energy balloons in the bridge, with Hendricks declaring that she'll fill her house with "daughters and daughters and daughters." "Heaven" may not be one of Charly Bliss's catchiest songs, but it does have some of their best songwriting, and they're as charming as ever. [6]

Ian Mathers: In the ranks of songs titled "Heaven," this one isn't going to beat out the Talking Heads, Emeli Sandé, or the Psychedelic Furs, but that is a pretty high set of bars to pass. Charly Bliss's sweet roar is still a perfectly great take on the subject, though; here Heaven is a certainty, the feeling of assured bliss, of not being able to lose, of not even being here at all. Which ranks it above, say, Bryan Adams. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Unlike certain guitar groups that have touched on the subject in recent years, Charly Bliss seem unconcerned with heaven as anything but a symbol for the pure rush of new love. As such, the song is lyrically thin -- nothing sticks except for the daughters of the bridge. Yet Hendricks's vocal performance and the grungy work the rest of the band puts in more than make up for it. It's nothing special in the world of grungy crush-pop indie -- maybe not even the best version of this song we've covered in the past few weeks, tbh -- but good enough to be deeply re-listenable. [6]

Alfred Soto: The sweet abrasion caused by those intro harmonies call the Breeders to mind, but Charly Bliss has elementary pleasures in mind, and damn, are they good at them. Received fun is still fun. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[daggerzine]

Swearin’ –FALL INTO THE SUN (MERGE RECORDS)

I wanted to call Philly’s Swearin’ a meat and potatoes indie rock band but geez, that sounds like an insult and the last thing I want to do is insult this trio of fine musicians. The band had formed in the early 2010’s in Philly by Allison Crutchfield (Waxahatchee’s Katie’s sister) and Kyle Gilbride (drummer Jeff Bolt rounds out the trio). The band broke up a few years back but decided to give it another try a year or so ago and let’s all thank them for that. Fall Into the Sun is a mostly mid-tempo indie rock record that has searing/soaring guitars that cut deep without shedding any blood and no matter who’s singing, it totally works. Crutchfield has a sweet but strong chirp while Gilbride has a raspier howl. I love them both and the songs seem to just hit that sweet spot that former labelmates Butterglory used to do way back when (I hear a little Monkey 101 in there, too). The Crutchfield-sung opener, “Big Changes” rumbles confidently across the tracks while Gilbride’s “Dogpile” has a hook that can’t be denied and is one of my favorite songs of the year as is Crutchfield’s fuzzier “Untitled (LA)”  (where she moved to recently). While you’re at it don’t miss the thicker “Treading” and the more nimble, lighter “Oil & Water.” Swearin’ weren’t going into this with the thought of creating a throwback record to the golden days of indie rock, even thought it may sound like that. No, this is more of a celebration and a love of music by folks who have a definite connection and the means to get what they want through music. They nailed it here and I have a feeling they can do it again and again. www.mergerecords.com

[recommendedlisten]

Album Review: Field Mouse - ‘Meaning’

Rachel Browne’s partner in domestic bliss Joe D’Agostino of Cymbals Eat Guitars recently introduced his new project Empty Country with a song about fearing cancer. Browne’s sister herself is a survivor of a stage four diagnosis of it, and he -- alongside Rachel -- found themselves dreading the results of her own annual exam. The listen entitled “Ultrasound” hit hard around her for personal reasons of my own by way of some cosmic synergy that has to do with losing a loved one five Augusts ago and playing the Cymbals Eat Guitars album LOSE the night of my cousin’s funeral. An admitted skeptic and mystic rolled into one, I often look to circular patterns and unsuspecting anniversaries in life to explain my own story. This is one that will always stay with me as a learning lesson on grief and belief, yet what I find mostly auspicious is that Browne’s band Field Mouse seeks out explanations of their own five Augusts later with their third studio effort Meaning.

I don’t know these two individuals personally or the dynamics of their relationship beyond what’s in print, but I think I understand why Browne and D’Agostino found one another: He presents himself as a modern day angel of death, and she the healer. Together, they mine the ugliness in life for beauty purified by the pain of going through it. Even if you don’t believe everything happens for a reason, trick yourself into believing that Browne and D’Agostino had to find one another so that they could ask these bigger questions together so that the rest of us could at least find peace in realizing that it’s okay not to have all of the answers.

Meaning is an important album to remind us of that for not only that reason, but what it represents for Field Mouse as artists and where we stand collectively at this point on the indie rock timeline. Browne alongside guitarist Andrew Futral, bassist Saysha Heinzman, and keyboardist Zoë Browne deliver what is to date their most consistent collection of hook-heavy subterranean rock at a moment within the independent music scene where it’s value is becoming more and more rooted in what it gives back to us emotionally rather than fleeting style statements, in turn making the art itself stand for something of its own creation. Add to this formula punk-pop purveyor Kyle Gilbride of Swearin’ recorded the effort with the band, and a refinement on Field Mouse’s ability to channel every inkling of feeling into hooks constructed and compressed in both whirlwind and comedowns, earthly life lessons toiled in infectious choruses, and an engaging pace showcasing the Brooklyn four-piece’s strongest sides is obvious.

Though these songs are not our own personal experiences, Meaning is a mirror for them. In the year’s since Field Mouse’s 2016 sophomore effort Episodic, the world has gone to shit, and the band almost didn’t continue after its members’ lives began to diverge directions. These, ironically enough, are the events that came to breathe life into Meaning’s songwriting process. Browne uses her reflections to paint the sky in a blue celestial swirl as a way of inviting her sister back safely into the wonders of world following her health scare, and stretches it far enough for each and every one of us on “Skygazing” as a means to ask us to illustrate our own home in this universe alongside with her. Even as this world devolves into a hellscape, be it by our own hand or the brain-rotting powers of the devices being held in them, tracks like “Black Hole, Son”, “Visitors” and “Apocalypse Whenever” offer escapism through the static in euphoria.

Improving on the self beyond the equation either in sorting this life out, as Browne’s own anxious energy fuels progress in being a better partner on “Heart of Gold”. It’s also the source of making sense of when everything in the long term plan starts to get blurry, as “Plague No. 8″ uses glimmering slide guitars that may turn into the band’s own Golden Hour the next time around. More than anything, though, the listen comes to terms with how often, the meaning we seek doesn’t always have to be so concrete in form. As the album’s closes on the synth-and-symphony weaving dreamlike meditation “Blind Spot” and erupts before hitting a sudden stop, it’s like the heaviness of every August since is swallowed by the energy created in letting go of your grip, and just letting life (and Field Mouse) be your guide through it all.

Meaning by Field Mouse

Field Mouse’s Meaning will be released August 16th on Topshelf Records.

[ricardosousalemos]

Allison Crutchfield: Tourist in This Town

In 2014, between projects, Allison Crutchfield released Lean in to It, a synth-led EP of private epiphanies on love and heartbreak. From an artist given to collaboration—not least with her sister, Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield—its starkness was intriguing. Allison and Katie’s first major outfit was Birmingham, Alabama’s P.S. Eliot, a raucous pop-punk band whose busy lyrics and zipwire melodies seemed, in brief moments, to make the planet spin twice as fast. In 2012, a year after they split, Allison moved from drums to the mic with Swearin’, still reveling in the racket of ferocious guitars. She began work on Tourist in This Town after Swearin’ played their last show, in 2015, due to her split with co-songwriter Kyle Gilbride. After years touring with her sister and boyfriend, the 28-year-old’s Lean in to It follow-up—and debut solo LP—might have occasioned a reckoning with independence and her unmapped future. Instead, she finds her compasses jammed by existential drift and haunting memories.

As on Lean in to It, which corralled tales of youth romance gone awry, Tourist in This Town is a breakup record whose ennui goes beyond romance. Couched in her stories are trials of self-acceptance, psychic grappling, physical dislocation. Cleanly produced by Philly synth-whisperer Jeff Zeigler, the LP channels the kind of late-80s synth pop that jettisoned style in favor of vastness and grace—skyline synths pirouette, vocals implore, pensive guitars sporadically erupt. The effect is to coalesce Crutchfield’s anecdotes and soliloquies into a blur of fury and melancholy.

Like her sister, Crutchfield has a knack for sardonic observations designed to bore through the bullshit of young adulthood (mostly emanating from other young adults). With less room for stormy punk guitars, Tourist proceeds with a new lightness of touch. Instead of steel-plating her tongue, the music consoles and reveres the heart-on-sleeve lyrics. On “Sightseeing,” as piano chords sprout reverb, Crutchfield recounts an awkward face-to-face encounter (“You say nothing/You just come sit next to me”) in an anguished tone that suggests a divine experience. It’s oddly dramatic, and a little jarring, but the lyrics’ psychological layers—“Baby, you are not as sad as you want me to think”—somehow bring you to her level.

Rather than submit to the inevitability of breakups, Crutchfield obsessively autopsies what went wrong: she purports to be “selfish” “shallow,” and “unstable” on “Broad Daylight”; on “Mile Away,” she seethes to her partner, “You assume you understand because your voice is the loudest.” These scenes often occur in public—waiters refill glasses, onlookers mock her tears. More than heated blow-outs, they sound like scrappy internal monologues, filling silences made unbearable by the weight and breadth of what’s unsaid. On “Charlie,” Crutchfield and her partner inhabit a domestic space flooded with conflicting memories—their touching pillow-talk, his yelling in her face. When she concludes, “You bite me on my neck like I was something you could eat/You bite me ’cos you like the way I feel in your teeth,” her tone taints the cuteness with a dash of something sinister.

If there’s a drawback to this psychic dredging, it’s a slightly limited emotional range. Crutchfield frames scenes vividly, yet we rarely feel the weight of the mutual devastation, the perverse thrill of love discarded. When her post-romantic tumult subsides, on “Expatriate,” a moment of introspective honesty is warranted—one that might carry more weight had the tone ventured further afield elsewhere. “The things you used to hate about me are all heightened now,” she sings, with a measure of contentment. “But I love myself, or I’m figuring out how.” The line still resonates, but it’s more satisfying, in this case, to see her meticulous, anxiety-parsing work as its own redemption—entombing the past in a reliquary of sad matters settled.

[somethinggoodmusic]

I could write volumes about how 2018 fucking sucked, but at least the soundtrack was great.

Before moving on to my top 25 albums of the year, bear in mind that I consume albums in an archaic fashion: I pay for them (often beautiful vinyl versions); listen to them all the way through, in sequence, over and over and over again; and completely fall in love with them. These are the records that had my back during a dreadful year.

#25

Love in the Time of E-Mail by Antarctigo Vespucci Polyvinyl Records

#24

Freedom’s Goblin by Ty Segall Drag City

#23

Hope Downs by Rolling Blackouts Coastal FeverSub Pop

#22

Somewhat Literate by Retirement PartyCounter Intuitive Records

#21

Feelin’ Freaky by Falcon Jane Darling Recordings

#20

Plays With Fire by Cloud Audio Antihero

#19

Uncle, Duke & The Chief by Born Ruffians Paper Bag Records

#18

The Diet by Cullen OmoriSub Pop

#17

ocala wick by gobbinjrTopshelf Records

#16

Kill the Lights by Tony Molina Slumberland Records

#15

Francis Trouble by Albert Hammond, Jr. Red Bull Records

#14

Numbskull by The Band Ice Cream Urban Scandal Records

#13

Forth Wanderers by Forth Wanderers Sub Pop

#12

POWER by Des Millions Independently-released

#11

Twin Fantasy by Car Seat Headrest Matador Records

#10

boygenius by Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus Matador Records

I have no hesitation putting this EP ahead of so many great full-length albums released in 2018. Look past its six-song tracklist and you’ll see this debut offering from indie super-group boygenius — comprising Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus — has more creative energy than almost anything else on this list.

And how could it not? Baker, Bridgers and Dacus are all indie superstars in their early-20s, all entering the height of their powers after releasing career-making solo records in 2017 and 2018. And those six songs? They’re not just throwaway tracks — they’re some of the best songs any of them have ever written. But more impressively to me, they’re not simply Baker, Bridgers or Dacus solo tracks with three-part harmonies jammed in — the trio put tremendous care in crafting something completely original and beautiful.

For more on boygenius, read my post (and listen to the playlist) from a few weeks back.

#9

Clean by Soccer Mommy Fat Possum Records

Nashville-based songstress Sophie Allison delivered an indie rock classic on her new LP Clean, defying critics of her preceding record Collection. In fact, this might have been a motivating factor: at a recent Soccer Mommy show at D.C.’s Black Cat, Allison noted her (somewhat feigned) surprise when a reference to Collection drew a healthy cheer from the sold-out crowd.

For context, Collection marks Soccer Mommy’s transition from DIY bedroom pop project to full-fledged indie rock band, and set the mold for an amazing follow-up. On Clean, Allison’s singing and songwriting are bolder, the sound is more robust, her full band is on-point — and — now the future looks very bright.

#8

Where We Were Together by Say Sue Me Damnably

I play Korean guitar pop band Say Sue Me’s debut LP a lot. It’s meticulously crafted, expertly performed and infectiously-fun — until the final track, when everything the quartet built comes tumbling down in a brilliant and emotional album-closer, “Coming to the End,” which is punctuated by a jaw-dropping extended guitar solo.

Like, I can’t hype up this solo enough — it emotes in the same way as the saxophone in “Jungleland” and or the slide guitar in “Layla’s” coda. It’s simultaneously thrilling and gut-wrenching as you hinge on the solo’s every twist and turn, set against pounding drums and crashing cymbals. It’s my favorite musical moment of 2018.

#7

Lush by Snail Mail Matador Records

Before hearing Snail Mail AKA Lindsey Jordan’s debut LP Lush, I scoffed somewhat at Pitchfork Senior Editor Ryan Dombal’s assertion that the record “encompasses the once and future sound of indie rock.” Not that I wasn’t already impressed with Snail Mail’s preceding, self-recorded EPs — made before the Maryland native turned 18 — but that’s a BIG statement for anyone.

After hearing the album, though, I was like “Yep! Good call!”

“Pristine” is one of the record’s best tracks, but it’s also a fine description for Lush itself — every sound is polished and precise, but never manufactured; while Jordan’s songwriting already rivals the best in the game. And I’m not going to do that “for her age” bullshit — Jordan is a tremendous talent that’s touring her ass off, headlining shows around the world. We’re past that.

#6

Fall Into the Sun by Swearin’ Merge Records

One of the most pleasant surprises of 2018 was the reformation of Swearin’ — which disintegrated in 2015 after the break-up of the band’s two creative forces, Allison Crutchfield and Kyle Gilbride. The Philly-based outfit initially pledged to forge on following the split, but that obviously proved difficult in the short term.

Fast-forward a few things and seemingly things are okay, both on- and off-stage. Musically, Swearin’ has never sounded better: Fall Into the Sun recalls the frantic guitar rock of the band’s 2012 and 2013 LPs, but there’s a new maturity in the sound, as well as an optimal balance between Crutchfield and Gilbride’s contributions.

#5

Tell Me How You Really Feel by Courtney Barnett Milk! Records

Courtney Barnett had a tough act to follow preparing the sequel to her magnificent, Obama playlist-residing, superstar-making first LP: 2015’s Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit. And she succeeded — however the intense pressure to meet astronomical expectations, which Barnett refers to on the record, seemingly took its toll.

Tell Me How You Really Feel is dark. It’s the album where Barnett stops being whimsical and starts getting real. No more missed connections at the YMCA pool — on the first three singles alone we find our hero battling misogynist shitheads online and in real life (“Nameless, Faceless”), calling for an emotional break (“Need A Little Time,”) and trying to cope with isolation/loneliness (“City Looks Pretty”).

#4

Historian by Lucy Dacus Matador Records

Remember Lucy Dacus from #10 on this list? Well, she released an even better album on her own earlier in 2018. Historian, the (fellow) Virginia native’s second record, is a star-making solo effort on which Dacus called all the shots.

Between this and boygenius, Dacus used 2018 to cement her status as one of the indie rock’s greatest talents. An artist wise beyond her years, Dacus is the only singer-songwriter I’ve ever felt comfortable comparing to Joni Mitchell — which is among the highest praise I can think of for any artist.

#3

POST- by Jeff Rosenstock Polyvinyl Records

Jeff Rosenstock set the bar high and early, releasing his stellar solo debut on New Year’s Day and never looking back. That I’m still listening to the former Bomb the Music Industry! frontman’s album in mid-December is a feat in and of itself, but POST- earns #3 on this list due to Rosenstock’s unbridled exuberance, anthemic scream-alongs and dinosauric riffs. Fuck, even the song’s ballad (SOTY candidate “9/10”) has energy coursing through its wall of sound.

#2

Slow Buzz by Remember Sports Father/Daughter Records

If it weren’t a complete cop-out, the debut LP from Philly pop-punk band Remember Sports would be #1B on this list. I can’t really find a flaw across its 12 perfectly-sequenced tracks — each and every one of which has a place and purpose (as well as killer riffs and rapturous drumming). Guitarist and singer Carmen Perry’s brutal and brilliant lyricism is Slow Buzz’s secret weapon as she brilliantly lays bare the emotional toll of falling in and out of love.

#1

LONER by Caroline Rose New West Records

Not everyone struggles on their second album. Some, like the wildly-creative Caroline Rose, use it as an opportunity to completely reinvent themselves artistically. Rose released her folksy, roots rock-inspired debut I Will Not Be Afraid in 2014 but ultimately wasn’t satisfied with it — any anything. She described the situation (and more) to Pitch Perfect PR:

“I was 24, lonely, and realizing life might actually be as hard as people said it was. Gandalf had yet to raise his staff and part the seas for me,” she says with a straight face. “I felt a bit disillusioned with my music; it didn’t sound like my personality. I hadn’t dated in years, I was going to lose health care. I felt detached from the modern world.”

So what did she do about it? “I joined Tinder. I turned 25 and rented my first real apartment and painted it bright colors. I started socializing more and little by little, weeded out all my clothes that weren’t red. I embraced my queerdom. I had a girlfriend, we traveled the country, we broke up. I discussed politics, capitalism and Rihanna. For better or worse, I became a member of the modern world. Turns out the modern world is terrifying.”

Rose got more personal and aggressive in her musical approach and tried to be more sonically diverse with her new work. She also injected humor into the mix — leading directly to essential LONER tracks like “Bikini” and “Money,” but also giving her music a lighthearted, fun spirit as she creates vivid scenes and characters. Folksy, roots rock turned into decadent indie pop heavy on guitars, keys and synths. So yeah, she found her sound. And it’s unlike anything we’ve ever heard before — that’s why she gave it a name: “schizo drift.”

LONER is my favorite album of 2018. Rose recently posted on social that she’s beginning work on the follow-up — let’s hope it’s [adjusts tie] more of the same.

Hate reading? Follow the “Songs of SOMETHINGGOOD” playlist on Spotify and you never have to come back — but I’d appreciate it if you did.

https://open.spotify.com/user/somethinggoodmusic/playlist/1XgOCb4C0QVky14Qdj9mxL?si=UIsabN7NRD20Vdsi3lYEew

SOMETHINGGOOD's Albums of the Year 2018 -- feat. records from @newwestrecords @father_daughter @Polyvinyl @matadorrecords @milk_records @mergerecords @FatPossum @subpop @DarlingRecords @audioantihero @CIRecs @topshelfrecords & more! I could write volumes about how 2018 fucking sucked, but at least the soundtrack was great.

[mergerecords]

🚨New Swearin’ song!! 🚨

Pre-order Fall into the Sun: http://smarturl.it/Fall-into-the-Sun

[rollingstonemag]

Un nouvel article a été publié sur https://www.rollingstone.fr/playlist-redaction-9/

La Playlist de la rédaction #9

On est vendredi soir, il est 23h, mais on vous prépare quand même une playlist de la semaine qui tue avec Gorillaz, Beach House et les nouveautés Brace ! Brace ! et Hollywood. Oubliez pas de nous remercier, quand même

Gorillaz – Tranz

S’il vous fallait une bonne raison de vous plonger dans le vrai nouveau disque de Gorillaz (puisque Humanz, aussi étrange que gênant, n’a jamais existé), en voilà une.

Brace ! Brace ! – Whales

La playlist de cette semaine ne pourrait se justifier que par ce morceau des excellents Brace ! Brace !, jeune quatuor parisien signé chez le prolifique label Howlin’ Banana. Ça sent très fort la west coast, ça rappelle Wavves et ça se permet même d’arpenter les verts pâturages psychédéliques qu’on aime tant – le tout en 2 minutes. Vivement le 12 octobre pour entendre la suite.

Hollywood – Monster

Trio originaire d’Oslo formé par Mikhael Paskavel, remarqué lors du dernier Arte Concert Festival Paris, Hollywood promet de belles envolées pop bien serrées entre des couplets au cordeau – un joli contraste, dont la profusion rappelle par moments Arcade Fire, avec un sens de la mélodie peu commun.

Swearin’ – Future Hell

On jurerait que Thurston Moore a soufflé sur le berceau de ce trio originaire de Philadelphie aux guitares traînantes. Mais Swearin’ a d’autres ressources que ses belles influences lo-fi, dont la voix tremblotante de Kyle Gilbride. De quoi espérer un joli « wall of sound » indé avec leur troisième album, Fall Into the Sun, à paraître le 5 octobre prochain, fruit d’une reformation inespérée en 2017.

Beach House – Drunk in LA

Comme pour Gorillaz, s’il vous fallait une bonne raison de vous plonger dans 7, le magnifique dernier album de Beach House… sauf que bon, pour être tout-à-fait honnête, c’est tellement beau qu’on est presque déçus pour vous que vous ne l’ayez pas découvert avant. Dans Drunk in LA, le duo formé par Victoria Legrand (oui, c’est elle qui chante) et Alex Scally nous embarque dans un rêve lumineux, empreint d’une mélancolie nocturne dont ils sont passés maîtres depuis plusieurs disques déjà. Si les coton-tiges n’existaient pas, on vous aurait dit que Beach House, c’est du coton pour les oreilles, mais c’est franchement un peu stupide, dit comme ça. Écoutez, ce sera déjà très bien.

[scenepointblank]

Our featured stream at Scene Point Blank is the brand new EP NVM from Fleabite and Salinas Records. The 6-song EP, which is officially out on June 29, shows the band’s mastery of mid-tempo fuzzy rock with an homage to 1990’s slacker charm. The guitar-driven sound was captured by John Hoffman and Jerri Queen (both of Vacation) who did the recording and mixing, which was then mastered by Kyle Gilbride (Swearin’). Rather than tell you what to think of the record, give it a listen yourself below: via Scene Point Blank music news feed

[allbrooklynveganposts]

NYC's Hiccup, whose lineup includes members of mid-2000s era pop punks The Unlovables and The Chris Gethard Show's house band, released their debut album Imaginary Enemies earlier this year on Father/Daughter Records. It was produced by Kyle Gilbride of the now-defunct Swearin'...

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[noloveforned]

recommended digital releases, july 21st

a large majority of the music i listen to these days is done at work through a premium spotify subscription. the hardest part seems to be trying to remember when an album i’ve been anticipating finally comes out on whatever random friday.

i figure i’m not the only one so every friday i’m aiming to post five new releases from the past week (or so) as well as five recent releases from the past couple months that are available through spotify (and presumably the other streaming platforms).

new releases from the past week (or so):

garageland "last exit to garageland (deluxe edition)" on flying nun [spotify, bandcamp] flying nun was still going strong through the nineties and twenty years later we've got an expanded edition of garageland's 1997 debut album. it's catchy as heck while cribbing pavement and the pixies.

the hayman kupa band "the hayman kupa band" on fika [spotify, bandcamp] darren hayman (hefner) and emma kupa (standard fare) first released a single together three years ago as part of fortuna pop's jukebox 45's singles club. at the time darren offhandedly suggested they should do a whole album of duets and emma ran with the idea. they wrote it over three weekends, practiced with their pick-up band twice and then recorded it live in three days. emma makes for an excellent foil and the album is much more direct that darren's recent forays into historic inspiration.

david nance "negative boogie" on ba da bing! [spotify, bandcamp] david nance hails from omaha and has been playing with simon joyner's band over the past few years. his own work is rooted in the same singer-songwriter tradition but channels it through sloppy, psychedelic arrangements.

star tropics "lost world" on shelflife [spotify, bandcamp] dreamy and jangly indie pop from chicago that wears its sarah records influence on its sleeve.

waxahatchee "out in the storm (deluxe edition)" on merge [spotify, bandcamp] the fourth album from katie crutchfield's waxahatchee is a prime exemplar of why they're at the center of the philadelphia indie rock scene for their garage pop that's simultaneous personal and universal. it's also the first waxahatchee album to call on the help of an outside producer (john angello) after three albums recorded with kyle gilbride. the deluxe edition includes a second LP of identically sequenced demos for the entire album.

slightly older stuff:

livy ekemezie "friday night" on odion livingstone [spotify, bandcamp] the reissue of the 1983 nigerian disco-funk album from livy ekemezie is the first release by odion livingstone, a new label based in nigeria aiming to take advantage of the recent crate-digger interest.

freak genes "playtime" on alien snatch [spotify, bandcamp] punky english power pop that calls to mind jay reatard (r.i.p.) with a little less urgency.

major leagues "good love" on popfrenzy [spotify, bandcamp] first full-length from the australian indie poppers after a couple great eps over the last few years. they remind me of the gauzy indie pop of uk bands like sea pinks and sprinters.

pill "aggressive advertising" ep on dull tools [spotify, bandcamp] dystopian post-punk led by veronica torres' vocals and ben jaffe's sax- either of which can coo or cut as necessary.

david s. ware trio "live in new york, 2010" on aum fidelity [spotify] two live sets recorded at the blue note in nyc in the final few years of his life after a successful kidney transplant. ware plays a straight alto saxophone for a good portion of the evening and it brings some clarinet-y tones to his playing. william parker and warren smith round out the trio on bass and drums respectively.

more 'recommended releases' posts from no love for ned