Sera Cahoone picked up the drum sticks at eleven, was playing blues bars at twelve, and working sessions with bands not long after. The guitar soon followed, as did her knack for open-hearted songwriting. Oh and lest we forget the self- discovery of a voice that hums with real emotion.

She’s a country girl, Colorado being home, Deer Creek Canyon (as in the title) to be precise. And this record, her third long-player, often bares a longing to return to the Canyon (where her mother still lives).

Musically it might not whip up a whirlwind, and some tracks may feel a little easy-going at times. But with Cahoone at the helm the glow of integrity is ever-present – constantly lifting the record beyond the american-folk by-numbers to a more intimate and believable haven.  The spirit in her songs, and the talent in her delivery, allows this record the time it needs to grow. And just when you least expect it there’ll be a moment or two that will break your heart – check Naked for starters.

Listen, I’m always game for an Alt-Country bashing session same as the next reviewer. But Cahoone swerves the cliche for the soulful, handing us a record that creaks with authenticity, and warms the spirit like a setting-sun.

-Marnie Reed-

On the first listen you may think Negotiations is just another mainstream/alternative record in the style of The Killers or even Coldplay – but don’t judge this book by its cover. Through meticulous instrumentation and insightful lyricism, The Helio Sequence has produced a record that draws you in to the world of your own inner dialogue and provides the necessary orchestration.

Negotiations is their fifth record and the first since 2008’s Keep Your Eyes Ahead. To say that Brandon Summers (Singer-Guitarist) and Benjamin Weikel (Drummer-keyboardist) have evolved since then would be an understatement. Negotiations is complex, moving and aurally exciting. The opening track, One More Time, is accessible pop-rock, it could even be mistaken for a new cut from Two Door Cinema. As Summers sings, “Leave behind fear to be what you may become” he is incorporating one of the central themes- self-reconciliation. Later he repeats, “true for everyone”, highlighting the universality of his own battles and attempting to draw a connection between our consciousness and our humanity.

These themes continue throughout the record, which ranges from inspiring and insightful at its best to cheesy and clichéd at its worst. The second track, October, encourages the listener to believe in second chances and take calculated risks. Where One More Time got it right, October misses the mark. The lyrics on this track verge on the banal, almost clumsy at times.

One of Negotiations’ shining moments occurs as Silence on Silence achieves an exciting build-up and an intrepid climax effortlessly. More positive constants throughout are a result of the influence of minimalist ambient records- great analog loops and guitar lines with beautifully layered background vocals.

Aside from Summers’ own introspective conversations, the primary negotiation on this record is between being sincere and being prosaic.

-Rick Marcello-

Seattle quartet Poor Moon are part of the broad Fleet Foxes family tree: Christian Wargo and Casey Westcott fill out on bass and keyboards for that group, and both have spent time in Pedro The Lion as well as Wargo’s previous band Crystal Skulls. Brothers Ian and Peter Murray of the comparatively obscure Christmas Cards complete Poor Moon. Despite the musicians’ diverse backgrounds, this eponymous debut is unmistakably a post-Fleet Foxes album, and shouldn’t fail to appeal to anyone taking a chance on it on the back of that connection.

It’s an unassuming little record, done and dusted in under half an hour. Wargo’s songs are embellished with only as much instrumentation as it needs to carry the tune to the end, the music frequently dropping out altogether for Poor Moon’s holy harmonies. Guitars are struck lightly or strummed gently, drums and percussion and kept to a minimum, bass appears rarely. Various vibes, dulcimers and toy pianos colour the picture without clutter.

Opening track Clouds Below, with its whimsical jay bird whistling, sounds a worrying note of infantilism, leading to the suspicion that Poor Moon are setting themselves the challenge to make the year’s most inoffensive album. Pretty but lightweight songs Holiday and Birds add to the child-friendly feel: it’s G-rated music for bright kids.

There are mature (not adult) themes here though, in common with intelligent children’s literature and film. Phantom Light is a sketch of a dead man’s haunted home, while Pulling me Down hints at more troubled undercurrents of depression and abuse. The dappled organ psych of Heaven’s Door, meanwhile, presents the familiar dream of St Peter’s judgement, Poor Moon’s protagonist found wanting.

Some of this may sound like faint praise, but Poor Moon does deserve a hearing and an audience. It makes no great claims to its own importance, but is a skilful collection all the same.

-Stuart Huggett-

It’s been nine years since we last heard from Beachwood Sparks; the LA outfit split back in 2003. OK, so they’ve been hooking up for some live dates since 2008, but finally we have a new record to spin.

Gram Parsons once pushed The Byrds towards country with their now legendary Sweetheart of the Rodeo album. And when I listen to Beachwood Sparks I hear a pop band, a real 60’s-coated pop band, with an alt-country dress-code. It’s all over their sun-kissed harmonies, every one like a postcard from LA’s golden age of rock.

The Tarnished Gold starts with a low-key intro, Forget the Song, which feels like a vocalised version of Fleetwood Mac’s Albatross, and then we hit the road with Sparks Fly Again, an apt title if ever I’ve heard one. Call and return vocals bathe in the upbeat breeze, while pedal steels and light drums keep it rolling in true retro style. The band aren’t back to push the boundaries of music, rather just revel in fresh material about past experiences. It feels real.

The title track hones in on Gram Parsons’ solo career; the vocal, like Parsons, encapsulating an ‘on the verge of heartbreak’ quality. The song feels reflective, life’s lessons learnt, and the music’s all the better for it.

Yet however able Beachwood Sparks are, they still frustrate with their insistence to drop in tracks like The Orange Grass Special, which comes across like a self-indulgent jam, solely there to demonstrate how fast their musical fingers can move.

Overall this is a good record, admittedly submerged in the past, but put together by a seasoned group with life’s experiences as their guide. Surely that’s got to count for something.

-William Bell-

Jaill, out on their second excursion for the mighty Sub Pop Records, apparently recorded this album in singer Vincent Kircher’s “crummy, poorly lit basement”. It has to be said that the surroundings didnʼt influence the sound too much. On the whole Traps is a fairly impressive sunshine-tinged slab of good old fashioned melodic pop. Itʼs wry, sometimes harsh and often bittersweet but mangled up in there is humour and, most importantly, tunes.

Waste A Lot Of Things starts us off in fairly decent four to the floor bass/drum plod and slinky guitar fashion. Its dark hued psych-pop is a precursor to the overall feel of the album and if you like that sort of thing then itʼs a damned fine way to keep you listening.

Elsewhere Perfect Ten jitters and twists along in a nice quirky way and, like most of the songs found here, a fair amount is squeezed into less than three minutes, proving that a lot can be done in not a lot of time when a song is in the right hands.

Horrible Things (Make Pretty Songs) and Million Times are strum-along acoustic affairs – the latter ending with a gloomy electrified refrain that brings to mind a lo-fi Smashing Pumpkins.

Although largely a DIY effort born in the aforementioned dingy cellar, Traps has a fair amount of spark to the sound. This may well be down to the mixing of Nicolas Vernhes, who has tweaked the noises of Exitmusic and Dirty Projectors among others.

Overall Traps is a rather worthwhile little listen. The whole shebang comes in at a tad over half an hour, and surely the busiest of hip cat pop lovers could fit that in.

-Steve Manser-Knight-

King Tuff make happy but nostalgic, mellow-dramatic songs. What comes to light straight away is the album’s really basic rock sensibility. There is much foot tapping, Neil Young inspired guitar followed by overtones of Zeppelin and a heap of 90s glaze.

The songs are largely simple, quick-fire ear pleasers. The record has been made fast too, you can hear the recordings speeding up and slowing down like real live takes. What’s good about the music is it never gives the impression of anyone rushing. We’re on this journey with Tuff and he’s just rolling.

By Stranger we have a bit of psychobilly string rattling and are up to three guitar tones in as many songs. The theme of the song is isolation and Tuff’s sound swaggers like a rogue bad ass. The Stray Cats spring to mind.

Keep on Movin’ lends itself to further 70s comparisons, but much of the lyrical content leans towards more contemporary groups like Metallica, if that makes sense.

Lots of what you hear in King Tuff’s music is sourced fairly directly from that which has been before, but there is enough originality to make you want to tip your hat and offer congratulations. The other thing about Tuff is the story behind the character is an intriguing one. By all counts he sounds a bit feral. Happened upon a guitar and made his way from the ‘Swamp of Love’ into some sort of civilisation.

One comparison I like is San Francisco’s Girls. The similarities may be down to chance, but the presence of desperation in the voice and simple rock ‘n’ roll sensibilities abide. They’re from a long distance apart, but the main men resemble each other on some level, in that they are both singing feel-good songs off the back of a pretty gnarly pair of lives.

-Andy Halliday-

So, you sit down and start listening to Husky, and pretty soon you’re propped up on one elbow, as The Woods starts building in waves of echoing piano and dramatic percussion. And there, at just four songs in, is the crucial point of the album. Reaction can go two ways, a lot like those teenage novels where the reader decided the outcome at the bottom of each page.

The first choice is to push yourself back up to a sitting position, mentally catalogue the Australian newcomers with all those other folk-flecked bands whose lyrics see them “walking in the woods”.

The other choice is to surrender yourself to their painstakingly built-up ambience. Because it’s not just another return to the country, and nor is it really a folkster’s reaction to the big city (Melbourne, if you were wondering). The light and shade in the lyrics is perfectly mirrored in the restrained use of deep-welling harmonies. Forever So is more like that interesting corner of the park where you’re never sure you’re alone.

By this time, you might have got through the threatening and ominous Dark Seas and the lazy, almost flamenco-sounding title track – both album highs. And while I can hear everything from The Band to The Fleet Foxes in there somewhere, it’s Husky’s ability to turn old ideas into new that consistently impresses.

This is a debut that exists on a level far above most in terms of realising ideas. Each track here is crafted with an enviable dedication, you can almost hear the passion rolling on the tape among the wooden instruments. Sub Pop seemed to have unearthed another gem and we are all ears.

-Jim Milne-

Beach House waltzed into the limelight when their Cocteau-flavoured, dream-state pop reached saturation point on Teen Dream. It was a blissful set of sweet nothings that had us all swooning with delight. This was the realisation of all that had come before.

So on hearing Bloom you may initially feel as if the Baltimore duo are playing it safe. This does, after all, feel like an all too healthy replica of Teen Dream. The reverb-glistening, lilting pop songs are delivered like a warm embrace via the richly served synthlines, Alex Scally’s carefully constructed guitar riffs, and of course the magical tones of Victoria Legrand.

Don’t get us wrong, the melodies are still flowing from the pair’s collective conscience. Myth is up there with anything on Teen Dream. Its crescendo-styled chorus has Legrand competing as one of the most beautiful vocalists in the realm of hazy-pop gems.

New Year is another hook-laden piece that swims in the elegant and ethereal waters the musicians are clearly revelling within. Lazuli meanwhile opens the widescreen production to its full capacity: a wave of heavenly keyboards sweeps through the studio, Legrand almost becoming lost in the band’s reverie.

For those that may have over-played Teen Dream you will find a new addiction with Bloom, it’s as deep as an ocean after all. But for those who were hoping for a new chapter in the Beach House story – you may need to wait a little longer yet.

-Luke Tyler-

Having already released The Years EP twice (admittedly the second time was a re-recorded version with a couple of bonus tracks) a Memoryhouse album was definitely due. And now that we have one, The Slideshow Effect, I’m kind of wishing they just released The Years again. This is dream pop diluted to the extent that nothing much really happens. Any strong flavours are wistfully escorted out by thoughtful guitar riffs and warming synths. I would rather go to Beach House than Memoryhouse – they’ve got stronger tunes.

Not that you won’t like this – you will, I do. How can you not be charmed by the gentle vocal chords of singer Denise Nouvion and the heavenly melodics provided by Evan Abeele? You could play this all day long, it would be scenic. I mean, why else was Old Haunts written other than to daydream about what else you could be doing?

The Kids Were Wrong is where we should be – just a slight tempo upper means Nouvion can push a little harder. Suddenly you can see the outlines rather than a cluster of nice woozy thoughts. It climaxes with distorted guitars, displaying a perky pop heart throughout. Heirloom rumbles a little more heartily too – there’s an effective ache in the vocals, which grabs you.

Are we right to criticise such nice records? Hearing Nouvian call “You’re not alone” over and over on Pale Blue is nothing if not heavenly. Just don’t expect the Canadian duo to make any hard decisions – they’re too busy dreaming.

-Dave Taylor-

Having a voice that pitches somewhere between Scott Walker and Antony Hegarty is an achievement for any man. But Jonathan Meiburg pulls it off and the ex-Okkervil River man’s vocal performance is stamped all over Animal Joy, the latest album from Shearwater.

But that’s not to say his voice dominates the album. The band are seasoned enough (they’re eight albums deep into what was once considered a side project) to know how to strike the right balance. The music supports the vocals, sweeping in, providing a large, expansive backdrop when required – becoming muscular when necessary.

The connection between the two elements – music and vocals – isn’t complementary: it’s symbiotic. They need each other and hang onto one another for survival – feeding off each other to become a stronger whole. This enables some of the tracks to become effortlessly epic. Check out the huge sound on Dread Sovereign, which takes its time to build from something very simple into a sprawling track that isn’t afraid to end as it started. There’s a pause, then the urgent keys of You As You Were jump in to inject a change of pace.

Insolence thrives thanks to the highs and lows it produces. There’s an anger and an impudence about it, which spar with each other over the course of the track. Its peaks and troughs are followed by a short sharp punch in the life with the rocking Immaculate – where the vocals and guitars drift from the Walker/Hegarty area into Bob Mould’s Copper Blue era Sugar. The track mugs you: it’s in, gets punchy, then abruptly leaves.

There’s a sense of epic 80s about some of the tracks, particularly Open Your Houses. Maybe it’s the strong chanting chorus and that affected sharp, snapping drum sound that leaves a breathy sonic trail. You expect songs like this to come from men in long coats with rolled up sleeves; men with flamboyant hair and arm flailing side-to-side dancing. It’s music for Judd Nelson fans; it’s music for Midge Ure’s introspective moments.

Animal Joy is, without doubt, an album in the true sense of the word. Every song has its place – there’s no fat to trim off – and the listener can get a real sense of how and why each song was positioned where it was. It may have an unashamedly 80s epic edge to it, but there are also timeless qualities that will help this album stand the test of time.

-David Standen-

Still Corner’s debut is like walking through dimly lit, bohemian bar from back in the 60s. The sound is drenched in a smoky atmosphere, there are hints of psychedelic undertones, and the singer, Tessa Murray, can now be used as the audio definition for the word ‘ethereal’.

The organ sounds waver and fluctuate throughout the record. They thicken the mix, darken the lights and hark back to a more retro vibration. On opener, ‘Cuckoo’, the chords hum continuously, the soft snares and occasional guitars respectful of the ambience that has been laid down. Murray’s voice floats atop, in-between and among the streaming sound-waves.

‘Into the Trees’ is almost a wake-up call (in Still Corner terms anyway). It lets the guitars off their relatively restrained leash, the drums continually tumble and the bass-line beats with intent. It closes with a distorted wave of guitar moving in some cavernous surroundings.

Yet as accomplished as most of these songs are in creating a spacious and haunting vibe, we did occasionally crave a few more memorable hooks. Thankfully ‘I Wrote in Blood’ delivers ten-fold. Along with the low-key guitar strums and arpeggio synth comedown, the vocal melody and performance from Murray is a yeaning request you hope will be answered: “I can leave now, just drive away, only you and me, lets take a chance, like we use to.”

The secluded and enigmatic instrumentation found here, along with Murray’s celestial intonation, is never short of effective. But it sometimes means the heart and soul of the songs are too vaporous to hold on to – almost lost in the ambience that is so well executed.

That said you can’t deny that this is a debut of atmospheric beauty that could be the start of something very special.

-Adrian Hopper-

Dee Dee Dum Dum (AKA Kirsten Gundred) and her band-mates were already firm favourites of ours when this, their second long-player, landed on the reviews desk at Bowlegs’ headquarters – so the Californian quartet were going to have to work pretty hard not to please our highly expectant ears. Thankfully, any worries that the band’s ever-rising star might run up against some turbulence were immediately blasted to kingdom come upon first listen, for ‘Only In Dreams’ is another excellent package of what the Dum Dums do best: sixties infused, fast and frenetic, wall-of-sound, surf-pop – fronted by the beautiful vocals of Dee Dee.

It’s an album full of broken dreams, lost love, hope, dejection, reclaimed love, and more than a dash of cinematic menace. For the first six songs – from the unsettled, purposefully agitated opener, ‘Always Looking’, through to ‘Caught In One’ – the pace rarely drops; but there are many moments where a subtle shift – an unexpected key change – or a slightly surprising vocal line, lift the arrangements just that little bit, like a twinkle in Dee Dee’s eye. Such supreme confidence in the formula – but most importantly, when to break from it ever so slightly – is possibly the Dum Dum’s greatest asset. It’s something the Ramones knew perfectly, and their warmth and energy is perhaps a very worthy invocation here, even if the styles do differ.

Track seven, ‘Coming Down’, is a sweeping, elegiac epic – slower of rhythm and considerably longer, and more ambitious, than the previous numbers, paving the way for the Dum Dum’s most self-conscious attempts at breaking form in their career yet – as they do so during the rest of the album. ‘Coming Down’ is a gloriously infectious joy to the senses, but the heavy shades of Mazzy Star’s ‘Fade Into You’ are impossible to ignore, however inadvertent they may be.

But hey, as we say, where the Dum Dum Girls were once students, they’ve outgrown their masters, to become the current definitive benchmark for this brand of velvet rock, so who cares if a track or two veers towards an old classic? This is as good as this sort of thing gets. There’s no-one better at it right now; at least until the next record from the Dum Dums arrives.

-Keith Tomlinson-

Blitzen Trapper have been conjuring up some magical combinations of cosmic country, psychedelic folk and rattling alternative rock on their previous albums, but their sixth, ‘American Goldwing’, is a straighter exercise in retro.

The band has allowed its classic rock and country influences to come to the fore, so that ‘American Goldwing’ resembles eleven random tracks from a 70’s FM radio playlist. Such expertly constructed indulgence comes close to that of arch pastiche merchants Ween, but Blitzen Trapper’s tongues appear to be less obviously in their cheeks.

‘Might Find It Cheap’ opens with a short fade-in of guitar and cymbal, as if trying to focus on the imaginary station’s signal, before resolving into a heavy fuzz-rock groove. The Southern sound of Lynyrd Skynyrd is much in evidence, here and elsewhere, although Blitzen Trapper’s sweet home is the Pacific Northwest.

The boogie hoedown of ‘Your Crying Eyes’ and Led Zep strut of ‘Street Fighting Sun’ are the high watermarks of this thundering approach, as Blitzen Trapper revel in the role of balls-out rockers.

The flipside to all this comes with Eric Earley’s gentle delivery of ‘Girl in a Coat’, ‘Taking It Easy Too Long’ and ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ – beautifully arranged ballads that, perhaps unavoidably, owe a debt to the country side of Dylan (throwing in giveaway phrases like “whiskey on the tracks”).

Blitzen Trapper’s previous tendency to experiment with songform is mostly absent from ‘American Goldwing’, as, apart from the cosmic metaphor of ‘Astronaut’ and some mind-bending organ swoops on the title track, there is nothing here that would cause consternation to conservative FM listeners. This may be the aim of the album, to celebrate the disparate influences that have been folded into the fabric of the band’s sound over the years. But playing at being an exceptional bar band is being a bar band nonetheless, and Blitzen Trapper can be so much more than that.

-Stuart Huggett-

The guitars are more widescreen, the vocals are a softer form of haze and the melodies float a little higher than before. Male Bonding are back with what is admittedly a more produced sound, yet their own brand of dream-grunge is firmly intact, and ‘Endless Now’ is a worthy sophomore effort.

There is no hiding the production values brought to the table by John Agnello, he who has worked with indie rock giants Dinosaur Jr and Thurston Moore. The distortion is like an oversized, warm blanket, yet the notes and chords hammer endlessly atop the rock and feisty drum-kit. Look upwards to find the harmonious, sun-kissed vocals – swimming in a sea of sweet melody.

Okay, the raw debut may be kicking it back in the streets of London while the feathered edges here revel in a converted church studio in Woodstock. But the tunes are tighter this time round, and the attitude and energy is still brimming from the speakers.

With an extra guitar player on board (Nathan Hewitt), solos constantly stream across the fuzzy backing – check the excellent ‘Tame the Sun’ as the high-notes and breezy harmonies combine for the sky-bound finale.

At just over half an hour the songs are short and pacey, yet on the standout, ‘Bones’, the band keep on playing, flowing with a smooth ferocity that needn’t ever end.

‘Channelling Your Fear’ manages to jump from the rowdy strums to an uplifting chorus. ‘What’s the Scene?’ meanwhile crashes intermittently with another repeating solo raising the noise levels.

Front-man John Arthur-Webb has certainly progressed as a songwriter, the glistening hooks are all over the record. And even if there is a slight lack of ups and downs here, this is a consistently impressive record that manages to fire on all cylinders yet still maintain a light and melodious heart.

-William Bell-

The broad-shouldered, and fairly cumbersome, guitar chords that open the debut from Mister Heavenly unexpectedly suggest we are in for a rock-heavy ride. We say unexpectedly because this is the new band from Unicorn/Islands man Nick Thorburn, Ryan Kattner from Man Man and Modest Mouse’s Joe Plummer – so understandably we have big expectations.

Thankfully our trust in those involved is met more often than not – the opener (which isn’t actually half-bad) turns out to be a pre-emptive warning that they are going to be using some rock-coloured sounds in the set. But there is more here than straight up rock-pop.

‘I Am a Hologram’ is a constant piano-pounding joy, Kattner and Thorburn swapping vocals as the song rides high on a rambled vibe. ‘Charlyne’ has a 50s guitar riff (and some more piano) – it also sounds spontaneously free-rolling in a barroom fall-about type of way.

It is the album’s confident sound that continually impresses, switching between the drum-fuelled, inventive pop (‘Pineapple Girl’) to the more retro-nodding tones that are an underlying theme throughout. ‘Diddy Eyes’, for instance, starts with doo-wopping harmonies yet somehow spawns a swampier, distorted tone. On ‘Your Girl’ there is no such mutation, pure, unashamed 50s doo-wop – it’s fun if nothing else.

It is of little surprise that the band pronounce themselves as being “at the forefront of ‘doom wop’” – a newly created genre from the three-piece which is also a track on the album (a power-chorded, ominous and fairly non-descript moment – and a far cry from the old-school R&B they draw inspiration from).

We like the way the distorted guitars and large-hearted drums go arm in arm with the ramshackle pianos, sugar-styled riffs and sweetened melodies. It makes for a unique record – which is nothing less than we expect from those involved.

-Brian Bentner-

We quite liked the Fruit Bats’ 2009 album, ‘The Ruminant Band’. It was an easy-going piano and acoustic led sing-a-long, from the melancholic to the bright and breezy. It’s what main man Eric D. Johnson does best, and after a decade as The Fruit Bats we’d expect nothing less.

And while ‘Tripper’ lyrically leans towards a more narrative based approach, musically it’s exactly as we expected – an easy-going piano and acoustic led sing-a-long, from the melancholic to the bright and breezy (are we repeating ourselves?).

It opens with the acoustic rumblings of ‘Tony the Tripper’, a song that features Richard Swift and Avi from Avi Buffalo, with Johnson carrying the song with his inimitable whine and pitch-scrambling delivery.

It’s the darker melodies, the minor chords and the less carefree attitude that spark the most memorable moments. ‘Tangie and Ray’ may have a tinkering piano and neatly compressed beat, but it also has a hint of sadness in Johnson’s vocal as it resides down in the dirt.

And if the record falls back on some light-footed folk, as in ‘Shivering Fawn’, you can count on Johnson’s voice (double-tracked for moments here) to turn it inside out, making it a more interesting prospect than how it appears on paper.

Admittedly he does throw in a few extras here. From the falsetto lines, tapping percussion and laid-back piano on ‘The Banishment Song’, to the surprisingly empty ‘Wild Honey’, the record hints at change, if never really taking a complete leap of faith.

So where Johnson goes next is probably not a question we need to ask. And if his records continue to maintain such likeable standards then he can stay right where he is for all we care.

-William Bell-

One of the key attractions of the earlier Toro Y Moi and Washed Out releases was their remade, remodelled sound: a vague reproduction of the early 90s crossover house pop (such as The Grid or The Beloved), but with a coarsened edge, as though the paint on these repros were peeling away conspicuously. The Robert Rauchenbergs of electro pop if you will. Their rhythms limped like dishevelled ravers, but the tunes sparkled despite the wear and tear.

Sadly it seems this was not their intention. The second Toro album aimed at a perfection in the productions which rendered that album slippery smooth. Where the original sonic finish was cracked, heavy and smudgy, now they had a glossy, open sheen that exposed what were actually rather comme ci comme ca songs.

For ‘Within and Without’ the diagnosis is similar, albeit with different symptoms. The rhythms are the more plodding type of machine groove, where you only notice them if they start or stop. And let’s just say the arrangements have dimensions that become very familiar over the course of the album. Often you’ll have a few chords looping, with hushed monotone multi-tracked vocals reverbed out, like hymnal chanting. It feels cold, and terribly down. Opener ‘Eyes Be Closed’ sails a little too close to Pink Floyd covering Mike and the Mechanics. And ‘You and I’ takes the heart rending electro of Glass Candy and drags it even further down the Via Dolorosa, the way of grief.

Thank heaven, there are small mercies. Album closer ‘A Dedication’ soars, with synths exploding like shocks up and down its melancholy spine. And ‘Far Away’ draws us tight to its bosom when all drops away to a lovely a capella in the middle. It needs more of this delicacy, but the eye seems firmly off the ball as the sequences plough onwards. We remain convinced that there is a delicate sensibility to Washed Out’s character, but on this outing it is struggling to make itself heard. A tweak is needed we think.

-Brian Bentner-

At the end of May, Montreal’s Wolf Parade played what its website announced was “their last show together for a long while”, before entering one of those increasingly common indefinite hiatuses. The band’s Spencer Krug has his new Moonface album out in August, but fellow vocalist Dan Boeckner has got in first here with Handsome Furs’ third.

‘Sound Kapital’ is a markedly heavier electronic record than either of its predecessors, with Boeckner and partner Alexei Perry layering thick seams of lush, polyphonic keyboards across every track. On the few occasions it surfaces, Boeckner’s guitar is processed into a distorted squall, smearing noise over the surfaces of ‘Cheap Music’ and ‘No Feelings’.

The broader sonic palette of ‘Sound Kapital’ is one of clean analogue lead lines, a heat-haze of middle distance synth walls, and urgent drum programs. The album loops around LCD Soundsystem clarity (‘What About Us’, ‘Memories of the Future’) and the sturdy electronic wing of the ‘second British invasion’ (some Human League sheen; an undercurrent of New Order) before landing firmly among North America’s own new wave pioneers, as echoes of Suicide, Devo, even The Cars, flood through.

Although soaked in synthetic influences, ‘Sound Kapital’ attempts to steer clear of pure retro by dealing with present political and social themes. Boeckner’s sloganeering choruses on ‘Serve the People’ and ‘Repatriated’ pastiche stadium anthems, but are effectively heartfelt.

Perry’s vocal contributions are limited to occasional backings and accompaniments, obscuring the extent to which her extra-musical skills as a writer cross over into the words her husband sings. The couple’s individual talents are otherwise submerged into the detailed mesh of ever-evolving synth lines.

‘No Feelings’ ends the album on a peak. Handsome Furs borrow the sustained keyboard mood of Devo’s elegiac ‘Beautiful World’, stretching out into an irresistible forward motion disco-pop, and crossing a My Bloody Valentine wall-of-noise bridge along the way. You can almost smell the circuit boards overheating.

-Stuart Huggett-

Sub Pop have signed their first hip hop act in Shabazz Palaces. And we have to ask: is this what they call beginner’s luck?

Fronted, backed and delivered by Palaceer Lazaro, also known as Ishmael ‘Butterfly’ Butler (from the lovable Digable Planets), it may well be one of the records of the year. Avant-garde, leftfield, experimental – stop trying to catch the Butterfly, it is better off flying free. Classed as a collective (produced by Knife Knights with Eric Blood on mixing) we don’t have too many names, just solid beats, loops, low-end bass and the main-man’s thought process on hip hop, inspiration and the fakes among us.

From the unflinching opener, ‘Free Press and Curl’, which opens like a tripped up pulse, the raps flow intelligently and with their own rhythm. There is a constant bass-level vibe running through the record, yet the snappy beats and variant backing addresses the balance. ‘Are you… Can you… Were you? (Felt)’ – where Lazaro goes on a feeling – has keys, strings and opens up a breezy backing midway through (like a Digable Planets dirge).

Most tracks here have a sub-song tacked on the end, a new pattern, a new turn in the road – this creates a looser, wayward vibe. ‘The King’s New Clothes Were Made by His Own Hands’ has a drone-like intro, a clicking, a rumbling behind the scenes – it then turns to an African style of chant and rhythmic movement. Lyrically Lazaro continually impresses. He bites, reflects and gets philosophical throughout – check ‘Youlogy’: “Lives are getting truer and the truth is getting bright. Things are getting blacker, but black is looking white.”

This isn’t an album of singles, it’s a record of true thought and independent thinking – and Bowlegs is all for that.

For someone with such an impressive back-catalogue, as musician and producer (Chad produced both the Women records), Chad Vangaalen remains relatively low-key. He also happens to be an impressive illustrator and animator, designing, animating and creating his own artwork and videos.

On ‘Diaper Island’, the Canadian musician has put together his finest creation yet, dropping many of the musical paths previously explored to concentrate on spiky, alt-rock guitars, edgier production and a set of melodic tunes. ‘Burning Photographs’ is a rush of endless rhythm, circling riffs and garage-blurred production; and it’s also one of the best tunes of the year. ‘Heavy Stones’ demonstrates a slower side – its like a Gram Parsons track played by Pavement – with its ambling electric guitar, and Vangaalen’s loving croons performed in harmony across the top.

There’s noise here too, as on the distorted wash of ‘Can You Believe it’, which has the musician wailing and abrasively bending any obvious song hooks out of place. It’s a testament to the artist that he can effortlessly flow from the caustic to the melancholic. Tracks like ‘Wandering Spirits’ has the singer crooning with heavy honesty, as the drums gently sway and crash. The track even briefly mutates into electronica and Jazz – yet it all works – seamlessly.

And as ‘Replace Me’ clashes Sonic Youth distorted guitar play with a sense of urgency and rolling rhythm, it feels as though the musician has successfully resurrected the best of Nineties Alt-rock, while also stirring in his own production values, to make something he can call his own. Thankfully we get a piece of it too, and it’s called ‘Diaper Island’.

-Harper Lawson-

The beards and rural-folk harmonies are back on our airwaves, which can only mean one thing: a new Fleet Foxes record. ‘Helplessness Blues’ is something that has been long awaited here at Bowlegs and for good reason. With their self-titled debut release on Sub Pop, Fleet Foxes created one of our favourite albums of 2008. Led by frontman Robin Pecknold’s intoxicating and earthly vocals, it was a clean breath of fresh air, receiving universal praise and establishing the Seattle-based band as undisputed leaders in the folk-rock revival.

However, following up an acclaimed work can be a tricky business. Music history is littered with artists who painstakingly spend time distancing their sound from the last record, adding weight to the expectations prior to the new release. In many cases, this can end in disappointment, as the foundation of what made a connection with people is lost. Thankfully, with Phil Ek (Shins, Band of Horses) on mixing duties again, ‘Helplessness Blues’ perfectly spans the line between a new sound and the familiar, resulting in another stunning LP.

Of course the characteristic melodies and evocative chords remain just as you would expect. The folk laments of ‘Montezuma’ and ‘Battery Kinzie’ seemingly summoning up the ghosts of traditional American music. But as the album progresses Pecknold’s reflective observations are blended with a more diverse instrumentation than before, such as the sparkling fiddle on ‘Bedouin Dress’, the slide guitar on ‘Helplessness Blues’ and the wood flute on ‘Grown Ocean’. Winter hymns are now replaced by a driving country groove as the Fleet Foxes create a richer sound which showcases these unexpected instruments.

Weighing in at an epic eight minutes, ‘The Shrine/An Argument’ exemplifies this new found experimentation – it’s a track that changes styles in four shimmering quarters before playing out to a cacophony of strings and sax. Earlier in the song, Pecknold belts out the line: “Sunlight over me no matter what I do”, and you can’t help but grin. There’s something really satisfying in hearing a much loved band fully realise the embodiment of their sound.

-Jamie Nicholson-

The Head and the Heart self-released this record back in 2010. It was then picked up by Sub Pop, re-mastered, and had a new track added and an old track re-recorded (the UK release is through Heavenly). Bowlegs can’t quite decide if it was worth all the time – the reason being this is pretty straight-up alt-country, Dr Dog meets pre-YHT Wilco.

There is a factory line somewhere spewing this semi-authentic, melancholy-driven music out by the truckload. So if an artist is going to give it a go, they better make it good. And to their credit The Head and the Heart have the songs, and do make a fine piece of earthy, acoustic-based, piano-running balladry. Most notably the new track here, ‘Rivers and Roads’, demonstrates a band ably traversing the ups and downs of the American landscape. The downward, occasional strums and lonesome drum-kit walk solemnly behind vocalists Josiah Jonhson and Jonathan Russell, only to swell with crashing piano chords and an old-time styled, angelic voice from violinist Charity Rose Thielen. It proves to be an unapologetic, swaying piece of rootsy realism.

‘Ghosts’ is a raggedy piece of bluesy folk, the piano hammering along like ‘Mr Blue Sky’, the warm harmonies bounding ahead with a meaningful outlook on making the most of our time. ‘Heaven Go Easy On Me’ meanwhile is a slow, drum-nodding plea with a great vocal delivery that yearns and moves between the plodding beat.

If you can accept that the record is nothing new – that you will foresee most of what is coming down the dusty road – then the Seattle sextet will gladly fill your room with an unburdened form of folky Americana. Yet if the band are to survive the overcrowded genre in which they stand then they must start taking some chances – or at least give us more reasons to pick them above the others. HG

Low are no strangers to melancholy: they’ve been peddling it for near on twenty years. The Minnesotan trio know the score, and Bowlegs has regularly fallen for their sombre, often stripped, regularly obscure musings – most memorably the Kranky released ‘Thing We Lost in the Fire’. This time round the band returned to a previously used Catholic Church to put the music down.  But despite that, with ‘C’mon’ the band seem to have got a little too comfortable, turning up the production to the in-personal setting more times than not.

Matt Beckley picks up production duties this time round. His previous efforts include Katy Perry and Avril Lavigne – which may put him in the frame for the inflated sound. Yet the truth is these songs rarely require such generous instrumentation – the band clearly adapt at the melodic, swinging and floating sound of human emotions and heartfelt attachment. So for every overblown, stadium guitar fallout – as experienced on the second half of ‘Witches’ – we get an intimate, and superior moment, like ‘Especially Me’. Mimi Parker’s aching vocal offset with a beating bass drum, an earthy violin and waves of harmony.

Another standout is ‘Nightingale’. It works on a slow marching rhythm and quietly shimmering arrangement. The combined vocal of front-man Alan Sparhawk and percussionist Parker are what have made Low such a special act over the years, and once again they turn in an understated performance.

But these moments of gentle beauty are too often swept up in the record’s less subtle tracks. Opener ‘Try to Sleep’ is a mid-paced, hackneyed piece of melancholy that just sounds too straightforward for a band of Low’s calibre. As for closer ‘Something’s Turning Over’ – an acoustic, wafer-thin ballad that sways far too joyously – you wonder if the three musicians left early and let the church choir have a go with the acoustic. This is no write-off, it just isn’t up to the group’s finest moments, and it left Bowlegs feeling a little low. BB

Pity the poor indie icon. Actually, you don’t have to because he’s doing it for himself. Self-pity has never been the most attractive trait in a person but, hey, J Mascis has got an album out of it and the Dinosaur Jr. front-man’s debut solo album is a largely acoustic affair, veering drastically away from the skull-rattling riffage of yore.

It’s all hard-won wisdom and yearning for simple pleasures, delivered by Mascis with trademark cracked vocals, sounding like he needs a good dose of honey and lemon.

The technical competence shown by Mascis on his guitar is of course the redeeming factor here. The title track features a beautifully lilting finger-picked guitar line accompanied by a simple string backing, while ‘Very Nervous and Love’ conveys the message of the title with its timid, tentative acoustic stabs and a spooky outro filled with mysterious echoes. There are great melodies to be found throughout ,but truth be told, some can go on a bit.

Mascis’ song-writing with Dinosaur Jr. was never characterised by concision. His tendency to draw out songs, which could do with having a minute or so shaved off, is present here. Similar to listening to a friend drunkenly sob about an ex, it is fine at first but there comes a point when you need to give him a slap around the chops and tell him to buck up. The album’s penultimate song, ‘Can I’, plumbs the depths of self-commiseration for nearly five and a half minutes.

A spare, modest record, with an impressive supporting cast (Kurt Vile and Ben Bridwell from Band of Horses for instance) J Mascis’ solo debut has some sparkling moments, all of which emanate from the simplicity of one man and his guitar. It’s just a shame about the varying bouts of aimlessness. Bowlegs of course had high expectations, which are met intermittently. JP

Four albums in and Papercuts have found a new home in Sub Pop. And you can safely file this one under dream pop, as reverb-heavy guitars jangle alongside woozy tambourines. Spread smoothly over all of this is Jason Robert Quever’s vocals to create a rich, sumptuous whole.

For all of his multi-instrumentation, band leader Quever’s most potent weapon is his voice. A seductive, vulnerable croon, it flourishes here on ‘Do What You Will’ and ‘Marie Says You’ve Changed’, bursting out of the choruses in emotive explosions. There is a magical desperation to the voice, as though you are listening to someone releasing a genuine call for help. It is that rare thing and elevates the album to often thrilling heights.

Quever said that he wanted to create a more dynamic-sounding album than previous efforts and, more often than not, he achieves this. ‘Chills’ is a heady broth of sound, full of confidence, while ‘White Are the Waves’ benefits from orchestral stabs on top of a marching beat. The latter is beautifully poignant and powerfully understated.

The album could have easily fallen into the trap of over-familiarity. What keeps it remarkably fresh are the endless melodies. You would be forgiven for thinking that Quever could sing himself out of a tight corner, such are the ideas on display here. Not once does it sound like the bottom of the creative barrel is being scraped, and one gets the feeling there is plenty more material on the backburner. JP

It wasn’t that long ago that the world of male sing/songwriters was a joke. It was a genre full of simpering fools who could incite more cringes than claps. Any tuneful troubadours plying their trade on the underground scene would have their reputations tarnished by their mainstream counterparts. Singer/songwriter are you? Not on my watch.

That was then, this is now. And as they have a habit of doing, the people at Sub Pop are helping to turn the genre around for the better. They have on their books two of the most talented musicians in the game: Chad Vangaalen and Kelley Stoltz. It’s the latter who we’re concerned with here though, with the release of his latest album ‘To Dreamers’. There’s definitely something about Stoltz. Perhaps it’s his ability to produce beautifully crafted post-punk pop songs which sound a little familiar – songs that give you a warm memory, indicating that you might have heard them before. That’s what you get from listening to ‘To Dreamers’ – a selection of songs both familiar and new at the same time. Sometimes that’s down to Stoltz sounding like other great singer/songwriters – such is the case on tracks like ‘Baby I’ve Got News For You’, where both the vocals and the instrumentation could have walked fully formed out of the mind of Tom Petty.

But mostly it’s because the songs are so good. Tracks like ‘I Like, I Like’ deserve an extended run on club dance-floors – or at the very least, recognition for its sheer strutability (Bowlegs doesn’t make up words for just any song you know). There are other influences in there too. ‘Fire Escape’ is a real Kinks-esque garage thrash out, with a distinctive San Franciscan feel. Sonny and the Sunsets and The Fresh and Onlys partake in a bit of this garage surf sound too, but Stoltz manages to deal it in a more accessible way.

‘To Dreamers’ feels like a genuine album – all the songs fit so well together. Stoltz deserves more recognition for his labours, and hopefully this will be the album that delivers it.

‘Maturing, not getting boring, just getting … richer.’  The words of No Age guitarist Randy Randall ring true through the entire duration of ‘Everything in Between’, a record brimming with indie, punk, noise, drone and guitar heavy pop. Like all that has been before, it is the duo’s simple and direct song-writing that inspires – only this time it is more infectious than ever.

And if Randall’s maturity comment rings the alarm bells fear not, the twosome have not reined in any of their relentless energy and noise – rather added more electronics and fascination – creating a depth and progression to the sound.

OK, you have to wait until track three for the real explosive tempos and garage rocking, but ‘Life Prowler’ and ‘Glitter’ do more than pass the time – the former opening the album with a continuous tom drum, some high end synths slowly landing among the fuzzy guitars and effective cross-over vocals; the latter uses feedback and screeching effects to dirty up what is a catchy piece of mid-paced pop. From here on in it jumps from unbridled punk (‘Fever Dreaming’), stripped down and thumping attitude (‘Skinned’ ) and acoustic sing-a-longs (‘Common Heat’) – yes you read that right, acoustic sing-a-long – rest assured it has a distorted six string keeping it real. ‘Depletion’ inches ahead of the others as Bowleg’s favourite – speeding tempos, blown out guitars and a downright superb melody make for an exhilarating three minutes.

The addition of various drone atmospherics, such as the reverberating and reversing ‘Dusted’ (which also happens to be kind of uplifting), gives the band a chance to carry you from the rollicking mayhem. It takes your eye off the game, only increasing the impact when the musicians re-take the stage with their trusty instruments. ‘Everything in Between’ is a master-class in how to progress your sound while holding onto your sound – after all, it is all about the sound – a near perfect record of American indie punk and a whole lot more. WB