(February 22nd on Rocket Recordings)
Like a soundtrack for apocalyptic times, Wraith veers between pounding industrial, jazzy, introspective diversions, and moodier alt-psych excursions. Like the zee, it changes when you don’t look at it for too long.
They broke up after their acclaimed 2014 debut but managed to stick together long enough to put together this enchanting, disturbing synth-pop confection. Nineties Bjork and Oughts-era The Knife with a gauzy layer that crinkles uncomfortably like human skin when you press it slightly.
(February 8th on Anti-Records and Epitaph Records)
Cass McCombs is great because his heady folk rock gets Americana and jammy but just before that gets three-Phish-sets-at-Bonnaroo obnoxious he veers off into another territory entirely. One day we’ll probably think of him as a Great Lost American Songwriter but you could just discover him now, too, it’s never too late.
(February 1st on Rune Grammofon Records)
The worst thing about fusion has always been how seriously it’s practitioners take it. It’s basically all the power of both jazz and rock ‘n’ roll put into a tuxedo and made to look for respectability among the moneyed classes of the world. The Hedvig Mollestad Trio, however, wants no such respectability. Their fusion is haunted by the ghost of Jimi Hendrix, and as such it’s explosive, heavy, and outfitted with guitar lines that whip and strangle as much as they slither and caress.
(January 25th Tough Love Records)
Low-tempo Krautrock with a seriously languid groove. If Faust was secretly a bunch of goddamn hippies they would sound like this.
(January 11th on Sonic Cathedral Records)
Psychedelic noise-rock that walks the thin line between being artistically and willfully difficult. Avoids becoming lost in a gauzy haze by virtue of an excellent rhythm section that knows instinctively how to ride a groove.
(January 11th, 2019 on Memphis Industries)
Field Music and Admiral Fallow, together at last, or something. Like chocolate and peanut butter for people who think Eighties post-Genesis pop was fuckin’ keen.
