When listening to the visceral eponymous debut of Ontario indie-core trio METZ, I cannot help but imagine the idea of Mudhoney's Mark Arm, who works for Sub Pop as their warehouse manager, smacking a copy of the group's demo on the A&R guy's desk lamenting, "Man, why aren't we signing bands like this anymore??"
With a title and a band name like Loney, Dear, you wouldn’t be remiss to expect some severe wrist-slit baroque morbidity along the lines of Portishead.
Brooklyn rockers Oxford Collapse are back with their third release – and first with their new record label Sub Pop – Remember the Night Parties.
On Skelliconnection, Chad VanGaalen offers up a wealth of musical influences, somehow crafted into a listenable, if not exactly earth-shattering, album. One hears, in his sound, hints of Joseph Arthur, Cloud Cult, and any number of Sub Pop artists. It is perhaps no surprise, then, that he is being touted as a combination of Iron & Wine, The Postal Service, and The Shins.
If Cormic McCarthy’s end-of-the-world novel The Road is made into a film before the world actually does end, this album by The Thermals should constitute the soundtrack.
Below the Branches eclecticism showcases Stoltz as a musician in the highest order, and someone who deserves a little more attention than the Johnny Come-Latelys.
Sun, Sun, Sun is a throwback record, chocked full of early 70s California rock – reminiscent of efforts of bands like Beachwood Sparks and The Thrills.
Descended like Vultures is not only beautiful, but heavy and textured pop that crawls under your skin with emotive lingering.
On Pixel Revolt, Vanderslice graciously straddles the bridge between songwriter and story-teller (there is a bridge, trust me), taking a J.D. Salinger meets Conor Oberst approach and layering his lyrics with dusky cellos, lightly strummed guitars, and floating beats.
