On Cousins, Tru Pierone brings a focused, measured presence to her debut EP. The Brooklyn based vocalist and songwriter works within a tight four song structure, drawing from indie rock and folk pop while grounding everything in her background as a trained vocalist. 

“That’s Enough” opens the EP with a direct, approachable energy. The song runs on a steady 4/4 pulse and leans into classic indie rock songwriting. I was reminded of bands like The Shins, Wolf Parade, and Big Thief in the way the melody carries the song without excess ornamentation. The hook is clear, the structure is familiar, and the performance is confident. It doesn’t reach for surprise, but it doesn’t need to. The strength here comes from clarity and execution.

“American Playground” widens the sound. Synth textures and dynamic shifts give the track a more expansive feel, and the arrangement moves through several sections without losing cohesion. I kept thinking about the softer, more atmospheric side of indie pop, with shades of Beach House in the way the song builds and releases tension. The breakdowns add contrast and keep the track from settling too quickly into a single mood.

“Shadow (Of a Hand)” was my favorite of the four. It opens with intertwined guitars and a close, intimate vocal that immediately draws attention to Pierone’s control and tone. The song could have stayed minimal, but it gradually introduces a groove that changes its emotional weight. That shift reminded me of early Grizzly Bear, where intimacy and momentum coexist without crowding each other.

The closing track, “The Idiot,” is a slow burn. It builds patiently, stacking hope and melancholy into an emotional aggregate. It feels like a proper song to have a send off for.

Cousins is a cohesive and well executed debut. The songwriting is strong, the performances are assured, and the production supports the material without overshadowing it. I'm looking forward to hearing more from the artist.

Become A Fan

The first time I played these tracks, I was struck by how "alive" they felt, with crack musicianship crossed with unadorned, sincere vocals. Turns out it's a sort of Live Album, but recorded live-in-the-studio. The band is Colorado's Ignatius Reilly and the album is called ...In The Doghouse.

To be clear, there's nobody named Ignatius Reilly in the band, but as a four-piece combo they play "honest and straightforward rock n’ roll that’s part alt-country and southern rock, mixed with blues rhythms and the sounds of New Orleans." The members are Eric Bullock (guitar), Mark Brut (bass), Ethan Ice (keys) and Jeff Lane (drums). The band started small and acoustic, using egg shakers for percussion, before morphing into their current lineup. The original iteration of the group had a "peaceful breakup" in 2017 to pursue other interests and family life, but the isolation of the pandemic had the members thinking back to the good times, and four of five members regrouped. 

As mentioned, this album was recorded live in one long session at Dog House Recording Studios in Lafayette, Colorado. The resulting tracks were mixed by bassist Mark Brut in his home studio. The songs are a diverse collection featuring recent tracks, some older tunes and four songs that had been performed exclusively live. 

"Life on the Run" begins a run of three "acoustic" tracks, though it's basically the full band with Eric Bullock's acoustic guitar through a pickup. It's a rollicking good-times tune with Allmans-style Americana crossed with New Orleans piano. It's pretty amazing how both Bullock and keys player Ethan Ice are able to improvise within the tight confines of the verses, while hitting the choruses perfectly. The next track "Ghost Town" has a similar feel and was originally written by Ice for his prior band The Sneaky Bastards. Ice also takes lead vocals in a good if unassuming voice and has some nice chorus harmonies with another player, and gets down like Leon Russell in the middle. "The Walker Song" completes the acoustic set with more of a jazzy, gospel feel. I love the pleading chorus harmonies: "I hope that I don't die alone / I hope the world don't turn to stone / When it's all been said and done."

With "The Singer" the band plugs in the electric guitars and organ for a recent track from their 2024 album "Superstitions Fade.” This was the song where I really noticed the difference in the "natural" vocals and harmonies, sitting atop overdriven guitars that never get too aggressive or nasty. "Chasing Your Tail" goes back to the band's beginnings and features a piano intro similar to Tull's "Locomotive Breath" while the song has its own forward locomotion. I really love the unison riffing between verses. Maybe I'm beating a dead horse here but it really feels like you're watching a live band play while the vocalists are seated next to you, singing right into your ears. There's a kind of psychedelic middle section with wah-wah bass,  followed by jam band-like soloing on guitar and keys.

"Champagne and Adderall" has an immediately memorable title and topic, somewhat akin to Little Feat's "Weed, Whites and Wine (Willin')." This rocker was actually written by former collaborator Micah Gunn but clearly fits the band's template to a T. 

"Shaken" has a long history, having been originally recorded in 2013 by drummer Jeff Lane's former band, with bassist Mark Brut taking his first lead vocal on an Ignatius LP (it helps that the guys all sound similar!). This is a terrific rocker with nice guitar-keyboard interplay and a middle section totally ripe for jamming (and they do!). "Gladys" takes us full-circle back to the band's beginning for a jumpy, pop-inflected ditty with lots of fuzz riffing, tooting organ and cascading piano runs. No vocals, so it's all about the music! 

It's always interesting to hear a live or retrospective album by a band you don't know, but also amazing when it all feels like a finished work instead of a collection of older parts. Great music, great time!

Rare Brew is something of a career retrospective for Suris, an English alt-rock duo comprised of Lindsey and David Mackie. They began recording way back in the 90's on 4-track cassette and 8-track reel to reel, and these songs are remastered or reimagined mixes of tracks up to 2015. They play music with "hints of 80's and 90's nostalgia" and have been compared to Kate Bush, Radiohead, Lorde, Lana Del Ray and Fleetwood Mac. 

The couple makes most of the music themselves. Lindsey is the chief songwriter, creating chord schemes and lyrics over David's rhythms. Lindsey sings and plays keyboards, while David provides the guitars, bass and drums along with production, mixing and mastering. They say these songs were inspired by albums like "Remain In Light" (Talking Heads), "Discipline" (King Crimson) and "Tin Drum" (Japan). 

"Astroturf" starts with a Stones-like acoustic piano trill, then moves into more of a dreampop reverie, bathed in ethereal keys. Lindsey has quite a beautiful voice and it's no surprise the band's early demos caught the ear of Polygram Records. This song feels absolutely organic, as if sprung fully-formed from the couples' unconscious. We end with that same Stonesy piano run. "This is the City" immediately widens the group's palette into expansive, orchestral rock territory, with the same kind of melodic and instrumental ambition as Laurie Anderson's "Mr. Heartbreak". Next is "Great Wide Open" which is one of the couple's favorites: "Very stripped back with a Space Oddity vibe." It's definitely a quieter and more intimate track, with melodies somewhat like Elton John (especially in the chorus) and a near-tropical marimba sound like Martin Denny. 

"Big Ship" is one of the early 8-track recordings cleaned up for modern ears, and the rhythms are air-tight behind Lindsey's multiple and quite beautiful vocals. "Scaur Bank" definitely has a Stevie Nicks quality to the lead vocals, which have an arresting "quivering" effect (I think I might be hearing David joining in at the end, too). "Hellion" is a touching ode to (I believe) one of the couple's kids, with a similar vocal trill and thick, sweet strings. "Warrior Queen" is advertised as a track that "breaks all the rules, starting with an acoustic upright piano and ending with a mighty guitar/synth pulse/vocal battle." This one definitely leans hard into prog-ville, with an interesting overlay of Latin Pop. Lindsey goes full Kate Bush at the end, with a wild, elemental vocal workout that almost makes you step back! "Absolute Zero" is more of a straight-ahead synth popper, and works as a palette cleanser. 

"Riverman" combines steady beats, solid piano, lovely vocals and what sounds like a full orchestra for another synth pop wonder, with a lead guitar that recalls Steve Hackett in Genesis. Continuing the mellow prog sound, "Last Fish in the Sea" kind of sounds like it was recorded in an underwater studio, what with the waves of reverb and shimmering vocals and keys. 

"All Over Again" is the final track and also the third of the "1992 8-track tapes" to be remade. Honestly you'd never know this wasn't a brand new studio recordings from top to bottom, with the band's trademark diverse arrangements seemingly housed in a self-contained universe with restless spirits and strange atmospheres. Some wild lead guitar and vocal scatting complete the picture.

I always love hearing music that sounds familiar but adds new layers and complexities I wouldn't have expected. This is a fine collection from a duo with a unique and fearless approach to their songs.

West Wickhams just released Sakura, and the entire EP leans into a lo-fi aesthetic that feels intentional rather than incidental. I hear a blend of soft synth pop and post-punk, stripped down to the point where the seams show, and that rawness becomes part of the appeal. “Up To The Old Tricks” sets the tone. The vocals are not delivered with much melodic sweep, yet they fit the framework of the song. The synths move in a straightforward 4/4 pattern, and the track barely shifts shape as it moves forward. There is no obvious centerpiece moment, but the repetition creates its own atmosphere.

“Ice Block” arrives with another run of simple synth textures. It reminded me a little of chip tune, especially in the way the tones clip at the edges. The lo-fi mix almost freezes the energy in place, which works in an unexpected way. The vocal delivery has this strained quality, as if he is pushing the words through a narrow doorway, and that tension becomes the song’s character.

“As The Camera Shuts” leans into reverb-heavy vocals that drift into something ghostlike. The guitar taps the same note repeatedly, and the shimmering high-end sounds create the only real melodic movement. “EQ The Viper” is the strongest moment on the EP for me. There are traces of Joy Division in the production and pacing. The vocals are delivered in fragments, more gestures than lines, and the absence of a defined melody adds to the mood.

“Save Yourselves” feels a little brighter and pulls in lo-fi drums that edge toward shoegaze. The vocals dissolve almost entirely into reverb, and I found myself focusing more on texture than language.

​West Wickhams clearly follow their own compass. The commitment to lo-fi recording and minimal sound design shapes the identity of Sakura, and even with its rough surfaces there is plenty here to take in and appreciate.

Become A Fan

SEVEN’s first anniversary arrives with a release that feels both celebratory and sharply focused. I hear a lineup of producers orbiting CRYME’s “London Boy,” first introduced on The Backroom EP in 2024 with ANTICALM’s unmistakable vocal presence. The original already had a confident swing built from 808s, electro edges, and CRYME’s instinct for stitching styles together. What this remix EP highlights is how flexible that foundation really is. Every artist taps into a different pressure point within the track and pushes it in their own direction.

As someone who came of age in the 90s, this EP hits a nostalgic nerve for me. It echoes the era when underground raves felt like secret cities and sounds like these were just beginning to form their own identity. I can imagine these tracks rattling through a warehouse on the South Side of Chicago without missing a beat.

“London Boy (MCR-T Remix) 03” is sleek and propulsive. The groove glides, the vocal sits in a fluid pocket, and the reverb opens up the space in a way that allows the layers to merge without losing clarity. Roza Terenzi’s version follows and taps into an entirely different palette. Distortion and fuzz rise to the surface, and the bubbling synths collide with brief dissonances that form an intriguing rhythmic pattern.

JakoJako’s “London Boy (JakoJako Remix) 04” leans into the hi hat language that shaped so much club culture. The filtered elements twist around alien synth tones and everything snaps into place with precision. It is built for movement. The “London Boy (Original Mix)” doubles down on the retro character. I heard what sounded like an 808 kit driving the rhythm, pared down but arranged with intention, keeping the momentum sharp and restless. The Stef de Haan remix is the most emotive entry here. It carries a reflective haze while still maintaining a steady pulse, and it reminded me a little of early Burial.

​Listening to multiple versions of the same song can sometimes feel redundant, but here it works. Each artist finds their own entry point and the contrasts become the appeal. If high energy electronic music that drops you straight into the club is your world, this EP has a lot to offer.

War Is Family (Surviving the Cold War and the Unraveling of an Imagined America) is an interesting and highly original concept album. The Texas born composer calls the album “a radio drama without the drama or the radio,” and I understood that immediately. The twenty tracks move like scattered recollections from a childhood lived under the Cold War’s long shadow. They drift between memoir and hallucination, as if he is writing a letter from the frightened imagination of a child to the confused present tense of adulthood.

The opening piece drops me into something that feels like a Ken Burns documentary. The room falls still, the narration enters, and the sense of historical distance folds into the atmosphere. I was not expecting the electronic, almost hip hop pulse of “Better Red Than Dead,” but the percussion hit in a way that made the shift work. “Siddhartha Goes To Alabama” returns to that documentary tone, with music that sits behind the narration like a ghostly soundtrack. Much of the album unfolds this way, letting spoken text and memory guide the structure rather than traditional songwriting.

“Red Ant Hill” was a moment where everything clicked for me. I loved the organ textures and the vocal delivery that sits somewhere between speaking and singing. “Assassination Postcard version 2” leans into an off kilter rock feel, complete with mechanical percussion that makes the whole thing sway strangely.

​“Rockets” veers into psychedelic territory and even reminded me a bit of NIN in its trippy intensity. “Surrounded Berlin” introduces helicopter sounds and an undercurrent of dread, while the title track feels theatrical, a loose assemblage of scenes that build the world rather than a typical song. “Love Orgy Hot” and “Sun Rises” stood out as strong moments too.

I felt like I had listened to a hybrid of a play and a documentary which is something I rarely feel from an album. The songs are varied in terms of approach and thought there was some inventive things going on here. This was a cool album and the first time you hear it you might get a bug for history itself.. 

Ryan Edward Kotler’s new single “Mary Anne” feels like a quiet breakthrough for an artist who has spent the past few years refining a bare-bones folk sensibility. His earlier songs relied heavily on voice and acoustic guitar, creating a sense of solitude that felt almost diaristic. With “Mary Anne,” he opens that world up a bit. The song was previewed with a live piano performance and will appear on his upcoming debut LP recorded at Tulsa’s Church Studio. Piano carries the emotional weight here, joined by soft drums that give the track a gentle closing-time pulse. It is still unmistakably Kotler who is direct, unguarded, and rooted in storytelling. The added texture brings a warmth that suggests his sound is beginning to deepen.

Two clear touchpoints emerge, though they remain more spiritual than stylistic. There is a hint of early Bob Dylan in the way Kotler leans into simplicity, letting straightforward chords and an unvarnished vocal delivery do most of the work. Yet the songwriting itself reaches toward something more tender, closer to the emotional honesty of John Prine. Prine could hold a room with nothing but a guitar and a story, and Kotler channels that same instinct here. “Mary Anne” feels personal without being heavy, conversational without losing its shape.

​What makes the song compelling is not the comparison to any lineage but how comfortable Kotler sounds inside his own. “Mary Anne” preserves the intimacy that defined his earlier work while pointing toward a broader sonic palette. If his debut album continues along this path, he may be entering the most promising chapter of his songwriting yet.

Become A Fan

Karen Salicath Jamali’s new album Wings of Gabriel feels like a continuation of her dialogue with the unseen, but I found this one landing even closer to the source. She has always treated dreams as a kind of compositional language, translating whatever arrives before dawn into piano pieces that hover somewhere between prayer and intuition. Here she leans deeper into that space. The eleven track cycle was shaped, she says, by the presence of Archangel Gabriel during those early hours when the world is quiet enough for the faintest signals to come through, and I could feel that stillness embedded in the music.

The record unfolds through three wings, each meant to reflect a facet of Gabriel’s energy. The first feels tender and emotionally clear, the second radiates a soft inner calm, and the third pushes into something more mysterious and beyond language. The opening piece “Wings Of Gabriel 1” sets the tone with delicate phrasing and a sense of breath around the notes. I was drawn to the timing, which is subtle and almost fragile in how it stretches. “Angel Gabriels Grace,” “Angel Gabriels Whisper,” and “Angel Gabriels Refuge” feel like extensions of that first idea, variations that refine the mood rather than shift it.

The tone remains consistent as the album moves forward. There is a somber reflective quality that never breaks, and I found myself settling into the elegance of that restraint. The singular piano voice carries the entire record, giving the music a quietly disciplined structure. Nothing here tries to transcend the instrument. Instead, the piano becomes the sole medium through which Jamali channels her sense of the divine.

After listening to the album I felt as though I had listened to one continuous piece. That is not a criticism so much as an acknowledgment of how focused her vision is. If the opening track draws you in, the rest will feel like a deepening of the same emotional current. I have always appreciated the way Jamali plays the piano. Her touch is graceful and precise, and there is a real emotional charge in the way she lingers on certain notes. Wings of Gabriel stays within a narrow frame, but within that frame she finds something honest and quietly moving.

Carmina Alegría is the new album from Yo, and from the opening seconds of “Desaparecer” I felt like I was stepping into a world that refuses to ease me in. The song starts abruptly, pulling me into a kind of prog rock séance with ghostly voices drifting in and out as the intensity builds. It is disorienting in a way that feels intentional, like the record wants to unsettle my footing before it shows me where it is going.

The title track “Carmina Alegría” shifts into a quieter space with soft guitar picking and spoken vocals. I picked up on a post rock sensibility here, especially in the way the vocals begin to double and blur. It is a long piece at over seven minutes and the beauty of it comes from how patiently it moves, even when it wavers toward the uncanny. “Coágulo de un instante” follows with something much bigger in scale. The mix of soaring vocals, heavy drums, and intricate guitar patterns feels almost ceremonial, aiming for a kind of regal grandeur.

“Volver al aire” leans fully into theatrics. The opera style vocals and shimmering guitars share space with alien synths and electronic textures, creating something that feels almost stage ready. “Siempre (la mano en el fuego)” pushes that even further. Wooden wind like textures, rolling drums, and bursts of spoken word give it a cinematic energy, the kind of oversized sound I would expect to hear in something like Avatar.

The back half of the album continues to expand that palette. “Los muertos siempre son verdad” is the most lush track here, drifting between subdued passages and a straightforward rock groove with distorted guitars. “Decirlo a veces sin palabras” brings back the operatic vocals in a way that feels intentionally over the top, while the bonus track “Levantando las manos” closes things out with unexpectedly somber singing.

​By the time I reached the end, I found myself thinking of Carmina Alegría as a kind of rock opera. Yo is clearly aiming for something grand, theatrical, and emotionally blown open. Not everything lands perfectly, but the ambition is undeniable and there are moments here that feel genuinely original. It is a strange, expansive record and I am glad I spent time inside it.

The7thGatekeeper’s Around This Edge Together is one of the more jarring stylistic swings I have heard on a single record. Instead of blending genres, he jumps between them with conviction. One moment I am hearing a quiet folk piece built around plaintive vocals and the next I am hit with music that veers toward death metal. I literally had to stop and make sure I was still listening to the same album. The contrast is that stark.

“Not to Be Taken” opens with what feels like an intensely whispered warning before the full onslaught arrives. The music leans into metal and the theatrical delivery gives it an almost supervillain quality that is both aggressive and intense. “5588” shifts into gloomier territory with somber guitar work and a vocal tone that lands in a dismal emotional space before big guitars crash in and turn the moment cathartic. The singing here feels more grounded and conversational.

By the time “Amulet” appears, it is clear how far the album is willing to travel. It sounds like a completely different band and channels a pretty straightforward 90’s alternative sensibility that feels almost joyful. “The Hoard” carries a punk edge. “Baryon II” goes heavier again, closer to death metal. “Wrapped” pulls all the way back into an intimate piano ballad, while “Inamorata” drifts into gentle guitar picking. “The Garden” returns to that 90’s alt-rock tone, and “(Fear) Wet State” follows a similar thread.

Listening from front to back felt more like hearing a shuffled playlist of disparate artists than a cohesive album from a single source which was interesting and unpredictable. The styles sit so far apart that the transitions become the defining experience. You move all over the map in terms of the emotional resonance. It is an interesting strategy and I understand the impulse to reach across audiences, although in practice that crossover rarely happens.

I respect the drive to explore wildly different modes of expression, and for me the hardest hitting material is where the record lands its most convincing moments.