This week sees the Southern Lord release of Thurston Moore’s album Screen Time, which premiered last year as a surprise Bandcamp Friday offering. Moore’s post-Sonic Youth work is really a continuation of his solo efforts, which were contemporaneous with his time in that famous band. Never a slouch, Moore has collaborated with an untold number of other musicians and consistently released music since the early 80’s. Screen Time finds him on his own, with his masterful, creative guitar work highlighted on ten instrumental tracks.
As the title might suggest, Screen Time concerns itself with a world in which community and the digital world may seem at odds. “How much screen time does a parent allow a child? How much screen time does a child need to realise a world which has the means to coexist as a community in shared exchange?” the album press release asks. But rather than simply railing about kids these days and their phones, Moore offers up a use for our screen time, when “the actuality of transparency in our daily lives through streaming etc we can only hope leads to the awareness of fairness.”
Moore is well known for turning to alternative tunings and custom modified instruments to achieve his trademark sound and style. Whatever he’s done here, it truly showcases his ability to pull abstract sounds from the instrument, without relying on a heavy wall of effects. Instead here we find short notes, plucked from around the fretboard, immersed in echo. There are none of the extremely lengthy tracks that Moore is known for; the longest song is 9 minutes, the shortest a minute and a half
The abstract music found on Screen Time is in parts beautiful, and in other places downright creepy. The tracks I found most compelling are “The Town,” which features an ominous shimmer that builds up as if the denizens of the city are making themselves known; “The View”; “The Upstairs”; and “The Realization.” That closer is ripe with many of the phasey swirls I’ve come to expect from Moore, but they are restrained and kept in the background, as clearer notes take the stage.
I would recommend listening to this album on headphones, as Moore makes wonderful use of separate channels, creating a spacious composition that surrounds the listener without overwhelming them. Screen Time calls for a moment of pause, a moment of thoughtful meditation, and offers a fitting soundtrack for that moment.
Screen Time is out on 2/28 on vinyl via Southern Lord and available on all major streaming platforms.
FTHC (Frank Turner Hard Core) is the first actual new material we’ve gotten from Frank Turner since 2018’s Be More Kind. Of course there was 2019’s No Man’s Land, but the material for that album was actually written and recorded before Be More Kind. You see, after the 2016 American election, the world changed (most certainly not for the better) and Turner realized that he needed to address the state of America (and the world), so he decided to temporarily shelve No Man’s Land, his ode to historical women of the world and instead released his plea to mankind to be better, to be more kind. And then the pandemic struck and with England, along with pretty much the entire world shut down, Turner managed to release two collaborative albums in 2020. The first a split with NOFX called West Coast vs. Wessex where NOFX covered five Frank Turner songs and vice versa. Also released in 2020 was Turner and “buddy” Jon Snodgrass’s collaborative reprieve of their Buddies EP from 2013 called, you guessed it Buddies II (Still Buddies). Clearly, a lot of water has flowed under the bridge between Be More Kind and FTHC and Turner has made every attempt to cover as much of that water as he possibly could.
For those who read the title of the album with its inclusion of “hardcore” and were expecting Frank’s return to his Mongrel Horde days, the first track of the album certainly points squarely in that direction. “Non Serviam” kicks off with thrashing guitar chords, punctuated by a thunderous drum progression before Turner screams the opening lines:
I am the idiot
I was considerate
I thought things were different
But the dumb and degenerate
Can be so belligerent:
Aggressive illiterates
And this social barbiturate
Is cold and deliberate
A marketed cigarette
If you dare to be different
Good faith considerate
Then you are the idiot
The song is fast and furious and to put it lightly, angry. It seems very clear right from the outset that Turner is not happy with the ways of the world and while he’s mad as hell, he’s not going to take it.
Next up is “The Gathering” which was the first single from the album, released late last year. As a follow up to the opening track, “The Gathering” is almost a perfect segue. Forgoing the hardcore style of the former, “The Gathering” starts off and almost feels like a mid 70’s classic rock anthem. That is until you get to the bridge where things turn dark, real dark. Turner at this point begins to recite his mantra to what feels and sounds very much like it could be right out of the death metal album bin at your local record store. And then before you know it, the bridge is cut off with Ben Lloyd’s blazing guitar solo which only punctuates the death metal vibe coming across from the tune. With it’s almost satanic ritualistic vibe, “The Gathering” too is filled with anger but Turner successfully portrays it in quite a different manner.
And then BOOM, the third track on the album starts and Turner is right back into his classic wheelhouse. “Haven’t Been Doing So Well” sounds like it could musically fit in swimmingly on say, England Keep My Bones. That is as long as you don’t pay attention to the lyrics which are thematically right in lock step with the two previous tracks in their anger and frustration with the current world order.
‘Cause I’ve been messed up, stressed out, talking to myself again
Locked up, left out, terrified of everything
Wound up, found out, waiting around for something to give
“Untainted Love” is a song about addiction and ultimately redemption. This (at least as far as I’m aware) is not a topic which Turner has tackled in the past. Drug abuse and addiction don’t normally pop up in his songs but the subject is handled quite poignantly in this tune which musically brings to mind The Gaslight Anthem and The Menzingers specifically in the chorus.
Frank Turner at Crossroads, October 2021 (photo by Ray Rusinak)
As for track number five, “Fatherless,” I can remember when I heard it for the first time at Crossroads last October being completely blown away with the lyrical content of the song (See pics/writeup from that weekend). The song deals with another subject which Turner has somewhat avoided within his catalog of songs. He has spoken in the past about his abusive relationship with his father but the hatred which comes across in this tune is something to which fans of Turner’s music have not seen before. Starting off with just a solo piano reminiscent to The Beatles’ “Let It Be,” one is immediately lulled into a peaceful melancholy which is abruptly transformed when the newest member of his backing band, The Sleeping Souls, drummer Callum Green kicks into a syncopated drum run which is then followed by Turner singing the words:
And I cried myself to sleep each night
For three straight weeks ’til I was dead inside
But I’m not asking for your pity
It’s just that fairy tales about fathers make me angry
But this tale too ends in triumph with Frank repeating over and over “look at me now.” However, unlike “Untainted Love,” where you feel a happiness come over the narrator after their victory over substance abuse, one feels nothing but the very same pity that the singer claimed not to crave at the conclusion of this song.
“My Bad” continues with the same theme of the narrator of the song being sickened by his parents, striking out on his own and ultimately realizing that he can’t escape his bloodlines. It’s a classic sins of the father tale which comes to a conclusion with Frank angrily singing “I did not want to be my father’s son”.
Which brings us to what may be the most startling song in this collection especially given the two songs which precede it on the album. As it turns out Frank’s father, the protagonist of the two previous songs and the benefactor of their vitriol, is now “Miranda.” Having transitioned relatively recently, Turner and his father have, while not quite reconciling, certainly now have a relationship to which each is attempting to put the pieces of their torn lives together again.
And without missing a beat, the beautiful closing words “Miranda, it’s lovely to meet you” are met head on with the words “I spoke with Scott last night” as the next song “A Wave Across A Bay” begins. As he did with “Long Live The Queen” from Love Ire and Song so many years ago, Turner takes the tragic death of a dear friend (in this case Frightened Rabbit’s Scott Hutchinson) and turns it into a beautiful eulogy which no doubt will become the emotional highpoint to future Frank Turner live performances.
Listen to “A Wave Across A Bay”
“Resurrectionists” follows and while it is a very good song, I just don’t think it fits in thematically with what has preceded it. The tune itself, at least to my ears, would have been a great song to juxtapose his “1931” on Be More Kind. It would have been a perfect fit for that album whereas on FTHC, it just feels a tad out of place.
“Punches” is a song right out of the classic Frank Turner mold of sing along anthems. It no doubt will be a favorite of those who frequent the pit at Turner’s concerts. “The Perfect Score” has had me transfixed mainly because of the use of the guitar riff following each of the verses. While it’s not anything virtuosic, it just makes for a really nice vibe. While writing this I’ve been scratching my head trying to figure out what it reminds me of and I realized that The Beths do the same kind of riffing post verse on their song “Future Me Hates Me.” And while the two have their similarities as far as the riff goes, “Perfect Score” is most certainly a song unto itself.
I have to wonder if the Turner who wrote the words to “Photosynthesis” (on Love Ire and Song) back in 2008, where he’s complaining about all his friends being married with mortgages and pension plans, could have possibly foreseen the future Frank who would write a song like “The Work,” where he extolls the virtues of cleaning the garage and doing the laundry. No doubt quarantine had to have been a strange process for Turner. He not only had to stop touring (something to which he pretty much has constantly done the past 10 years) but he was also relatively newly wed when the pandemic struck. “The Work” is a prototypical Turner vignette about his new found need to give and take in his relationship with his wife. This theme is expanded further in “Little Life” where Turner expounds on the quieter, slower, calmer life to which he now leads.
Which brings us to what I think might be the most interesting song on the album, “Farewell To My City.” In this one, Turner takes us on the meandering road trip of how he has managed to find himself where he is today. Starting out with a talking/ranting style which immediately brings to mind his good friend Micah Schabel. Turner and Schnabel had been on tour together when Covid first struck and then when Micah and his partner, artist Vanessa Jean Speckman, found themselves stranded in England for some time, they were welcomed to stay with Frank and his wife Jess Guise. I’ve no doubt that the time spent together was a learning experience for both songwriters. Bottom line being, while “Farewell” and its (not quite) talking blues style is a departure for Turner, on this one it clearly works.
So there you have it, my track by track breakdown of Frank Turner’s new release FTHC. All in all, as an avowed Turner fan, I am totally digging this release. Having heard quite a bit of it beforehand between seeing a handful of his live shows this past fall as well as the previously released singles, it is certainly refreshing to see an artist buck the trend of releasing the best song(s) from an album beforehand only to be let down upon the release of the entire LP. This is definitely not the case with FTHC. The one thing which I find most refreshing about the album is that while Turner does in fact break out of his traditional mold, even when he’s trying something new, the songs still reflect an air of familiarity.
FTHC is available now via Xtra Mile/Polydor and available on all streaming platforms.
Mitski is back from a three-year long hiatus and her new record, Laurel Hell, has not skipped a single beat. But even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. Because the magic of Mitski is that she creates music which exists by the rules of its own universe. A record centered around how Mitski relates to herself, to lovers, and to her fans, Laurel Hell is a relatable, cinematic, and beautiful body of work. With 11 songs coming in at just over 30 minutes, Laurel Hell is paced well and doesn’t feel rushed even as it packs multiple narratives throughout.
The record opens with “Valentine, Texas,” an emotionally captivating and sweeping track that starts out quietly during the first verse before crescendoing into a louder second half. With Mitski’s signature sound of being both atmospheric and vulnerable, “Valentine, Texas” offers a familiarity to the listener as the record’s opening song. The track’s first lines allude to Mitski’s return as she sings “Let’s step carefully into the dark/Once we’re in I’ll remember my way around/Who will I be tonight/Who will I become tonight/I’ll show you who my sweetheart’s never met/Wet teeth, shining eyes/Glimmering by a fire.” Upon finding out what kind of place Valentine, Texas is, I imagined myself waltzing alone in the dust-filled town of less than 200, a particular kind of peace that is only afforded to certain people. Perhaps a kind of peace that Mitski herself craves often but has trouble accessing with her rising fame.
In “Working For the Knife,” the record’s first single and second track, she dives deeper into the struggle with wanting to create but feeling constrained by expectations as she starts off by singing “I cry at the start of every movie/I guess ’cause I wish I was making things too/But I’m working for the knife.” Sonically, “Working For the Knife” oscillates with industrial and subtly psychedelic elements with a tinge of sadness that fits well with the track’s lyrical content. The music video features her singing and dancing around by herself in a performing arts center, possibly reflecting on the freedom she’s missing from her earlier days as an artist. At the beginning, she walks in with a cowgirl hat (a likely allusion to her last record, Be the Cowboy) and by the video’s end, she writhes around on a stage floor panting heavily, starting over the cycle of baring parts of her soul to the world.
What Mitski does really well on Laurel Hell is establish a kind of theatrical sonic landscape throughout the record where she is watching herself while inviting the listener in to watch her. This is clearly demonstrated in the third verse of “The Only Heartbreaker” where Mitski proclaims: “So I’ll be the loser in this game/I’ll be the bad guy in the play/I’ll be the water main that’s burst and flooding/You’ll be by the window, only watching.”
A deeply sad song about heartbreak, “The Only Heartbreaker” is juxtaposed against a danceable 80’s beat as she sings about herself being the heartbreaker in a relationship. The song’s music video features Mitski dancing in a burning forest, reaching her hands high but unable to get out. Mitski also utilizes this juxtaposition in other songs such as “Love Me More” and “Should’ve Been Me,” offering a contrast in tempo from more solemnly paced songs.
The last song on the album is “That’s Our Lamp,” a track with a funky bass beat about looking at a lamp from outside an apartment where Mitski was once loved. “That’s our lamp/It shines like a big moon/We may be ending/I’m standing in the dark/Looking up into our room/Where you’ll be waiting for me/Thinking that’s where you loved me/That’s where you loved me.” The song preceding it is “I Guess,” which sounds like it very well could be the last song on the album as Mitski ponders a breakup against a contemplative tempo. But it’s important to consider that “That’s Our Lamp” gives closure to the narrative in “I Guess” and offers a more specific location to the aftermath of the breakup as Mitski reflects and mourns the loss of what she had. The more upbeat nature of the song feels like an encore, with the line “that’s where you loved me” repeating eight times throughout the end of the song, bringing the record to a close.
According to a recent interview with Pitchfork, the reason behind Mitski choosing the name Laurel Hell is: ‘Laurel Hell’ is a term from the Southern Appalachians in the U.S., where laurel bushes basically grow in these dense thickets, and they grow really wide… And, I mean, I’ve never experienced it myself, but when you get stuck in these thickets, you can’t get out. Or so the story goes. And so there are a lot of Laurel Hells in America, in the South, where they’re named after the people who died within them because they were stuck. And, so the thing is, laurel flowers are so pretty. They just burst into these explosions of just beauty. And, I just, I liked the notion of being stuck inside this explosion of flowers and perhaps even dying within one of them.
Mitski performing in 2019 (photos by Edwina Hay)
The cover for Laurel Hell features Mitski in a dramatic pose with her eyes closed and hair splayed out in front of black laurel flower leaves in the corner and white lines drawn into cracks forming on her face. She is wearing a red turtleneck and has red lipstick on, and her hands are positioned artistically as if she’s mid-dance.
With Laurel Hell, Mitski has created a record that is notably poppier than her past releases but still explores the condition of what it means to exist in relation to others and how it feels when those relations become undone. An appropriate follow-up to Be the Cowboy, there are repeated themes of longing and regret that color the record without becoming drawn out. What’s crystal clear is that Mitski can keep finding inventive ways to tell her story with catchy beats and heart-wrenching, memorable lyrics.
I adore the idea of concept albums. Maybe it’s because they are so often space or fantasy based, and that’s my jam, or because such albums have the potential to be cohesive works with little filler. The latest album by Cloakroom, Dissolution Wave, indeed finds the band in spacey territory, unspooling the story over eight sublime tracks.
Together for ten years, Cloakroom’s members include Doyle Martin on guitar and lead vocals, Bobby Markos on bass, and Tim Remis on drums and vocals. Additional piano and loops come from Matt Talbott of Hum, which makes sense given that band’s influence on the heavy shoegaze genre. The trio is from Indiana and while their shoegaze sound is right at home in a Midwestern winter, their newest record reaches for a more interstellar medium.
I honestly cannot phrase the concept of this album better than the band themselves, so here (from their Bandcamp) is their description: “a space western in which an act of theoretical physics—the dissolution wave—wipes out all of humanity’s existing art and abstract thought. In order to keep the world spinning on its axis, songsmiths must fill the ether with their compositions. Meanwhile, the Spire and Ward of Song act as a filter for human imagination: Only the best material can pass through the filter and keep the world turning.” If that sounds too prog-rock, allow me to reassure you: the album is a perfectly paced, well-constructed heavy shoegaze journey through these themes, never bloated or overblown, and not so full of itself that it loses focus on what is important — the music.
It’s not the first time that Cloakroom has looked to the stars: previous releases include “Deep Space Station” (2018) and Time Well (2017). Fans of the complex, dense sound established on those records will not be disappointed by Dissolution Wave, which sees the band evolve even further. The music is heavy without being bogged down, with airy moments serving as a counterpoint. They kick right into their familiar driving crunch on the intro track “Lost Meaning,” one big drum hit preceding the full might of the band. Over the course of the record, the guitars weave through the mix yet never sound meandering; rather, every instrument (and vocal) here has a destination. Some unexpected notes and chord changes here and there keep the tracks from bleeding into each other. Much of the ‘spacey’ quality is provided by the vocals of Martin (full disclosure: I had some trouble picking out the lyrics on this record) while the thick basslines pin everything together under asteroids-crashing drums.
At times they flirt with poppier melodies, like on “A Force At Play,” but never long enough to leave the sludge behind (and that’s a good thing). Highlight tracks for me were “Lost Meaning,” “Dottie-back Thrush,” and “Lambspring.” I appreciate that the album ends on a solid note; as I was first listening I assumed the relatively lighter “Doubts” would be the last track (it has that sort of quality), and was then surprised by the opening chords of “Dissembler.” It’s a perfect conclusion statement: Cloakroom are not content to be a ‘fade-into-the-background” kind of shoegaze band. Rather, they are ready to fill the ether with a full-out aural assault to keep the world spinning. Dissolution Wave* is an album that will please immediately, with repeat spins revealing the nuances.
*(I wondered if the phrase “dissolution wave” was taken from a real concept in physics, hit Google, and after staring at the abstract for “Pit-Induced Electrochemical Layer Dissolution and Wave Propagation on an Au(111) Surface in an Acidic Thiourea Solution” by Lianqun Li, et al. in The Journal of Physical Chemistry for several minutes I concluded physics is not my game and went back to the music.)
Los Bitchos is a band that knows how to party. This is obvious in every aspect of their presentation—their album art, their videos, their performances, and most certainly in their music. In addition to bringing the party, they bring some serious musical chops along with them to said celebration, and have just released their long awaited debut album, Let The Festivities Begin!, showcasing plenty of Cumbia infused sun (and tequila) soaked vibes.
I first discovered Los Bitchos during the dark and boring days of the 2020 lockdowns and they certainly brought a vibrant ray of light into my life at that time on the strength of their stellar KEXP performance. Ever since then I’ve watched that video many times and have been anxiously awaiting more music from them as well as finally having a full album to dig into. I’ve also been really wanting to see them live which was very much up in the air for a long time due to **gestures around to the latest Covid setbacks** but much to my delight, they just announced US tour dates, which will be making a stop in Brooklyn at Music Hall of Williamsburg on June 20th. Still a few months away yes, but something that will be worth the wait.
Anchored by the air tight rhythm section of drummer Nic Crawshaw (who also plays in one of my favorite UK punk bands, Dead Arms) and bassist Josefine Jonnson, with synth flavor from Agustina Ruiz and plenty of auxiliary percussion accents sprinkled throughout, the spitfire shredding of guitarist Serra Petale takes on a lot of the central focus of the music of the instrumental quartet. And while Cumbia is the most obvious glue that binds the songs together, their overall sound is much more nuanced and has many influences running throughout. Everything from surf riffs that would give Dick Dale pause, to psych to rock and bouncy pop basslines can be found among the 11 songs on the album. The foursome may be based in London, but with the members coming from many corners of the globe (Uruguay, England, Sweden, and Australia) and having their own family, cultural and life experiences informing them as well, they have coalesced to create a blend of sound that is all of these elements at once yet something very uniquely Los Bitchos.
The album was produced by Alex Kapranos (of Franz Ferdinand) and starts off with a favorite track from the KEXP session “The Link Is About to Die,” a sun in your face, wind in your hair groove, which has a killer bongo break courtesy of Petale (who is also a skilled drummer; she has played in several bands behind the kit including Kid Wave). This is quickly followed by the Anatolian psych inspired bop “I Enjoy It” for a strong one-two punch setting the tone of the album right away. A few reworked/retitled songs from the KEXP session also find their way to the album including the ominous “Try The Circle!” originally titled “5 Years, 2 Years, 1 Year” that also features some of Crawshaw’s most exciting drumming during the crescendo, and “Change of Heart” which is a revamping of “Bugs Bunny.” The standouts for me are “Pista (Fresh Start)” which was the last of the singles released prior to the full album and has one of the catchiest lead riffs I’ve heard in quite some time and “FFS,” another wonderful psychy surprise showing off the Turkish/Anatolian elements of their sound.
To make sure there was no mistaking their penchant for cheek and good times, the band starred in three narratively intertwined videos ahead of the album for the lead off singles “Las Panteras,” “Good To Go!” and “Pista (Fresh Start)” which sees the band go from synchronized dance moves to standing trial in prison jumpsuits to witness protection and more in their hunt for the mysterious Las Panteras. But no more spoilers, watch the hilarious videos below:
I’ve always been a really big fan of instrumental music, regardless of genre, and that is initially what attracted me to them. What I love most about it is that you get to create your own narrative based not on lyrics and an idea a vocalist is presenting to you, but based solely on the sonic vibe and emotion of the music. A lot of the instrumental stuff I usually listen to does tend to be more serious or morose, and certainly much heavier sonically (think Russian Circles or Pelican). Los Bitchos with their fun in the sun “I want to drink margaritas at the beach” air may seem a little out of left field compared to those other artists (since I also don’t drink or even like the beach) but really, that’s no bother to me at all. I find so much fun and joy in all of their songs and think of the things I love in life when I hear them, of all the ways I bring my own party. And isn’t that the point of a band who is centered around having fun? I definitely think so, and see in them the magic of instrumental music—you get to feel however you want to feel and bring a piece of yourself to it too. And just to put it officially on record, I’d drink a (virgin) margarita with Los Bitchos any day.
Let The Festivities Begin! is one of the most exciting debut albums I’ve heard in recent memory and while the wait was long, it was well worth it. This foursome has created a fresh and distinct body of work that stands apart, with a shot of tequila raised high in triumph. The festivities have indeed begun.
Let The Festivities Begin! is out now via City Slang and available on all major streaming platforms.
Some might call a release of seven tracks an EP, but there was a time in music history that seven songs could be considered an album, and Climates’ debut album Movie Magic definitely feels like one. The trio, consisting of Theadora Curtis (lead vocals and bass,) Molly Schoen (guitar) and Keira Zhou (drums) have been together since late 2019, and now have a perfect lineup of tightly wound songs bookended by a fitting opener and closer, packed with meat in the middle.
Self-described as “glitter grunge,” the band mixes lovely harmonious vocals with fuzz and grit. Curtis’ airy vocals show a maturity and cleverness along with the harmonies. Rather than being pure echo, the vocals are layered over a driving mix of guitars and a solid bottom end. The deft, wandering lead guitar accents never overshadow the other instruments and blend into the vocals like another singer. (I am interested in seeing them live and how they treat the mix here as a three-piece.)
Musically, there is not much rest, although there are some quiet spaces where the drums and bass can show off. My personal favorites were the songs “Prize,” “End of Nights,” and “Doves.”
