Flagpole's 10 Favorite Local Albums of 2019

Outersea: Outersea

So many contemporary indie-pop and rock acts draw on elements of surf rock to fit their own diluted mold that it was refreshing to finally hear Outersea’s self-titled debut album—a tried and true testament to the genre. Rooted in all the touchstones fans of The Ventures and Dick Dale have come to know and love, and with little to no emphasis on vocals, the band’s instrumental chops and chemistry take center stage, steering their songs between cinematic drama and psychedelic fun.

Sailors and Ships: Sailors and Ships

After over a decade of backing countless groups around town, drummer Jeremy Wheatley released the first taste of his own tunes as Sailors and Ships, and, boy, was it worth the wait. As a singer-songwriter, Wheatley crafts sweet, seemingly simple ditties that belie troves of thematically rich lyrics, all accentuated with the slightest but most appropriate of studio additives. Though he hasn’t expressed much interest in putting all his creative eggs into the S&S basket, Athens will surely be better off if one of these albums graces our ears every few years.

Wanderwild: Sleep Tight, Socialite

Matt Martin has been steadily gaining traction with his solo project turned full band, but Wanderwild’s second full-length seemed as clear a restart as any. Written and recorded alongside bassist Taylor Cotton and drummer Wes Gregory, the album traded ethereal atmospherics for leaner yet no less melodic songwriting that fits snugly between the 2000s post-punk revival and an episode of “The O.C.”—which is to say, it’s both cool and commercially viable. The band has continued to evolve, showcasing a new five-person lineup, and has proven to be one of the most exciting and promising groups to come out of Athens in some time.

LeeAnn Peppers: For Asha, With Hope

Athens singer-songwriter LeeAnn Peppers follows up her highly personal 2017 debut, What Isn’t Said, with an even more intimate venture into the depths of loss and grief. For Asha, With Love, her latest eight-song album, revolves around the passing of a dear college friend from cancer nearly 10 years ago, and shirks overt melody in favor of what she refers to as “narrative poetry” to convey her lingering memories and emotions. 

As one might suspect, based on its subject matter, this is the kind of album that demands something of the listener, but Peppers’ elegies are deeply rewarding to those willing to put in the time, and they invite the kind of human connection lost in so much of contemporary music. “Mansfield, OH” and “The Fire of Love” stick out as especially gratifying, each offering an extended outro—the former with a really neat ambient harmonic section and the latter with a minute or so of recorded rainfall—that provides its own opportunity for personal reflection.

Kishi Bashi: Omoiyari →

On Kaoru Ishibashi’s last studio album, 2017’s Sonderlust, the prodigious violinist and pop songsmith put his own spin on throwback funk and AOR tones to explore romantic highs and lows to great, often glitzy effect. With his fourth album, Omoiyari, Ishibashi utilizes an equally emotive aural palette to connect the experiences of World War II-era Japanese Americans to the trials and tribulations of modern-day immigrants and refugees, but he opts for a gentler, if no less lush, mode of delivery.

The album’s title stems from a Japanese word closely associated with the act of fostering compassion by thinking of others, which is fitting given how closely Ishibashi gets to both his songs’ subjects and arrangers. Save for a touch of it in pre-release single “Marigolds,” Ishibashi foregoes his signature multi-track vocal and violin loops in favor of more collaborative compositions, with input from Tall Tall Trees’ Mike Savino, cellist Nick Ogawa and members of Cicada Rhythm, among others. 

Songs like “F Delano” and “Summer of ’42” shine especially bright, each exemplifying a keen understanding of their protagonists’ adversity and set to a backdrop of blissfully sweet instrumentation. They posit Ishibashi as even more of an essential, empathetic artist than the Classic City already knew.

Shaky Knees 2019 Wrap-ups

Mipso:

I had it on good authority from a North Carolina friend to check out Chapel Hill, NC-based Americana quintet Mipso. Clad in matching salmon shorts and lime green polos, the group exhibited an obvious chemistry fashioned from years and years of playing together. Their three singers alternated lead duties, but what was even more striking than each member’s individual talents was the sum of their parts. An offhand Beach Boys joke was made at the beginning of their set in reference to the matching get-ups, but it came full circle when they all sang in unified harmony, taking these already heartfelt tunes to another level. Thanks, friend.

Pedro the Lion:

Seattle songwriter David Bazan had ostensibly laid his Pedro the Lion moniker to rest, opting instead to write and release music under his given name over much of the past decade-plus. The band found new life last year, however, when Bazan announced he’d signed to Polyvinyl and had a new album on the way—the aptly titled Phoenix, released in January. Playing as a trio again, but this time with Bazan on bass, the group powered through a set that included a good chunk of material from Phoenix, with a peppering of earlier Pedro and DB solo material (no Control, David?). It was a solid set with a re-worked version of “Teardrops,” one of Bazan’s more recent solo electronic numbers, serving as standout.

Local Record Roundup →

Yip Deceiver: Koniec EP

Release Date: Friday, Apr. 12

What started as of Montreal touring members Nicolas “Dobby” Dobbratz and Davey Pierce’s side project has since morphed into as much of a focus for the now-trio as hitting the road with Kevin Barnes—which, by the way, they still do regularly. Yip Deceiver’s new EP follows the “if it ain’t broke” philosophy, serving up six tracks of simmering, disco-inflected electropop. For the most part, Koniec tempers Yip’s high energy in favor of more laid-back grooves that still sparkle and shine, but closer “The Wave” ends the extended play with the biggest bang, in all its glamorous hi-fi glory.

Wanderwild: Sleep Tight, Socialite

Release Date: Wednesday, Apr. 17

Release Show: Wednesday, Apr. 17, Georgia Theatre Rooftop

On Wanderwild’s second full-length, the Matt Martin-led trio scales back the rafter-reaching ambience and ethereality of prior releases in favor of more taut yet still anthemic and melodically potent tunes. Mid-aughts indie-rock darlings from both sides of the pond serve as touchstones, as Sleep Tight spills over with the infectious, danceable rhythms and sharp guitar work of The Strokes and their ilk. Album opener “Platinum,” as well as singles “All Around the Room” and “Andy,” position Wanderwild as Athens’ best bet to crack the streaming algorithm, with the band honing its songwriting chops to fit squarely between edge and access.

Outersea: Outersea

Release Date: Saturday, Apr. 20

Release Show: Saturday, Apr. 20, Flicker Theatre and Bar

Hazy surf quintet Outersea has been a local fixture for some time, drumming up swells of intrigue around its psychedelic take on the instrumental rock offshoot. The band’s first batch of recordings—which have been years in the making, and were pressed on beautiful, swirling ocean-blue vinyl thanks to Kindercore—are an excellent introduction to a unit that has put in ample time navigating the waters and coming into its own. The opening track, “Traitors (One and All),” is a radical sonic odyssey, utilizing classic tremolo surf-guitar techniques and drum rhythms to create a push-and-pull tension befitting a Greek tragedy. Deeper in, “Chad” slows things down a bit and carries just as much emotional weight without a touch of vocals.

Partials: Glossolalia EP

The debut EP from pop-minded sextet Partials focuses thematically on society’s relationship with machines. The title itself means “speaking in tongues,” and throughout the record, by way of song titles and lyrics alike, language provides a connective tissue between the buzzing and whirring of electronic automatons and the flesh and blood of humankind. What’s more striking here than the clear thread between messaging, however -- and more supportive of the concept as a whole -- is the band’s balance of synthetic and organic elements, which results in a tight, dynamically arranged six-song collection.

That equilibrium is on full display in the certified banger of an opening track, “Fear of Silence,” where a pulsating synth bass, steady kick drum and the clack of auxiliary percussion lay the groundwork for singer Adriana Thomas’ lyrical juxtapositions. She sings of being “silent and dead” while trying to “keep myself alive,” before the introduction of an angular riff split between two guitars propels the song into its invigorating chorus. 

The funk and Afrobeat influences present make Talking Heads a go-to reference point, but contemporaries like Foals, Sylvan Esso and Lucius provide more appropriate models for how an “alternative” band like Partials could utilize its potential and find crossover success in the modern day. Comparisons aside, though, Glossolalia is a thrilling listen that should translate easily across audiences.

Cindy Wilson: Change

(Kill Rock Stars) After some time out of the spotlight, longtime B-52s songwriter and vocalist Cindy Wilson emerged late last year with Sunrise, an exquisitely produced five-song EP of covers and originals showcasing a broad palette of pop and electronic sounds, plus a cadre of primo Athens musicians capable of taking Wilson’s latest tunes to intoxicating new heights. After following up with another EP in February—this time of all original material—Wilson is releasing her first solo album, an ambitious collection of dreamy atmospherics and synthesized pep that fine-tunes and focuses the songwriting of those first two records.

What stands out most about Change is how Wilson’s writing fits so squarely into her supporting cast’s collective niches. It would be hard to imagine the pure magic of the previously released “Sunrise,” for example, without Ryan Monahan’s simple yet soulful guitar line, Lemuel Hayes’ breezy, laid-back groove or producer Suny Lyons’ rich orchestral flourishes. The group shines particularly brightly on the wistful nu-disco track “Stand Back Time,” the Gary Numan-meets-St. Vincent “Mystic” and the spacey sound odyssey of “On the Inside.” Here’s hoping the gears keep turning for Wilson and her cohorts.

Roadkill Ghost Choir: False Youth Etcetera Review

(Freakout) DeLand, FL transplants Roadkill Ghost Choir have always aspired to make sounds bigger than themselves. Their first EP, Beggars Guild, released before they made the move to Athens, was an early indication of the soaring, roots-rock tunes the band was capable of producing. The group’s latest full-length, the first half of which was released in February, doesn’t just build logically on where it’s been headed for the past few years; it finds the Shepard brothers overshooting that trajectory with near-limitless ambition.

Despite hearing a few of these tracks months ago, it’s difficult not to be mesmerized once again by the elaborately textured synth washes and chorus-effected lead lines of opener “Vision on Vision/Undo” or the somber, sweeping ballad “Severed Hand of God.” Both songs possess their own brand of epic beauty, the former containing multiple movements, between which the band gracefully segues, while the latter shifts so suddenly it brings a smirk of satisfaction every time. 

On the surface, these are Springsteen-influenced anthems engineered to reach the cheap seats at the back of the festival, but taken under a microscope, this is some superior songcraft, channeling complex emotions into equally complex song structures. That it’s so unabashedly experimental while maintaining its mass appeal is all the better.

Pylon Reenactment Society: Part Time Punks Session EP Review

(Chunklet) That Pylon Reenactment Society can so expertly recreate the original Pylon lineup’s sound is a feat in and of itself. That it can encapsulate the primal energy of that group’s live show in record form while still bringing something new to the table is even more impressive. PRS’s Part Time Punks Session EP, recorded live with Los Angeles’ KXLU DJ Michael Stock during a tour stop last winter, does just that.

Featuring two Gyrate tracks and four from Chomp, the EP recalls the spirit of ground-zero Pylon as much as it highlights the idiosyncratic interpretations of each new member. For instance, guitarist Jason NeSmith’s spirited playing closely mirrors the cutting angularity of late guitarist Randy Bewley, but NeSmith’s take on Bewley’s parts, along with Damon Denton’s keyboard textures, provide a fullness to songs like “Beep” and “K,” where the original recordings sounded minimalistic and comparatively sparse.

The biggest delight, though, aside from this unit’s tenacious cohesion, is singer Vanessa Hay’s still-commanding voice, which bellows, howls and entreats as if it were 1980 all over again.

Palace Doctor: Mangled Review

(Laser Brains) The debut album from former Modern Skirts bassist Phillip Brantley’s project with Velveteen Pink bassist Nick Robbins and in-demand drummer Jeremy Wheatley is a twangy, overdriven affair that pulls inspiration from a wide array of influences. Though Brantley has kicked around with a few projects as a backing man since the Skirts’ dissolution, Palace Doctor serves as an outlet for the longtime Athenian’s songwriting, with Mangled a 10-song airing of romantic grievances.

Mangled opens with arguably its strongest track, “Don’t Want to Be Like You,” a breakup burner that channels all its bitterness into one hell of a well-oiled machine. Among the lead riff’s powerful simplicity, Wheatley’s punchy rhythm and Robbins’ complementary lines, the trio displays a lock-step chemistry crucial to the song’s excellence. 

The middle section of the album treads in fairly familiar mid-tempo rock, cycling through grunge, psychedelic and garage tones without a whole lot of differentiation or standout material. The last string of songs, however, offer plenty of vindication, with a final burst of energy and a pretty epic outro on “Not an Addict.”

Overlooked Athens Albums from 2017's First Half

Caulfield: Under the Influence (Independent Release)

Atlanta’s trap scene called, and Caulfield answered. The rapper has carved out his own space in Athens hip hop, declaring on the EP’s namesake track, “It’s been a minute/ Been itchin’/ I’m back in the kitchen.” In addition to radio-ready fare like “They Don’t Know,” featuring verses from Dictator and Squalle, Under the Influence has some downright dirty gems in “Zoom” and “2 Legit” that provide a pleasure-focused counter to the EP’s opening salvo.

Future Lives: Mansions (Soft Magic)

The latest project from former King of Prussia songwriter Brandon Hanick boasts a lineup that includes members of Drive-By Truckers, Velveteen Pink and Boulevard. The band’s debut album takes Hanick’s melody-driven songwriting and infuses it with an ambling, pastoral quality befitting a shaded, porch-prone respite. Look no further than the airy pedal-steel lines of “California Vibe” or carefree bounce of “St. John’s Fair” for easy, breezy soundtracking.

Lavender Holyfield: Rabbitboxing Midnightmouth (Cloud)

Comprised of some of Athens’ most essential experimental musicians—including members of The Olivia Tremor Control and Bubbly Mommy Gun—Lavender Holyfield’s first full-length deftly balances talents and personalities in a surrealist smorgasbord of atmospheric texture, off-kilter melody and starry-eyed lyricism. The psychedelic lilt of “Where Do Those Lasers Go?” and cinematic build-up of “Yellow Crowned Night Hero” point to a group whose relatively short time together belies its chemistry.

Moon Diagrams: Lifetime of Love

Deerhunter drummer Moses Archuleta has remained, for the most part, outside of the limelight over the course of the iconic indie rock band’s tenure. There’s no arguing it’s been a fairly easy task, considering how large of a personality Bradford Cox is, and how prolific both Cox’s solo venture, Atlas Sound, and fellow Deerhunter guitarist Lockett Pundt’s side project, Lotus Plaza, have been. But for ardent fans paying close enough attention, in 2015, Archuleta, under the moniker Moon Diagrams, released a three-track EP of his own material via Geographic North, a label with strong ties to the Atlanta electronic scene. As his debut proper, it gave some insight into the type of sonic palette the percussionist operated with on his own time. Unbeknownst to most of the listening public, though, these gears had already been turning for Archuleta, as recording for his just-released first full-length took place over the course of three distinct periods of time, beginning as early as the stretch of time between Cryptograms and Microcastle.

In a recent interview with The Quietus, Archuleta characterizes his contributions in Deerhunter as “organizational, sonic, and aesthetic”, similarly noting that, conversely, his weaknesses are as a “traditional songwriter”. It’s an incredibly perceptive self-characterization, and one that accurately conveys the gist of his new album, Lifetime of Love, much of which takes the form of purely instrumental soundscape. Opener “Playground” slowly builds into a cathedral-esque choir of voices, while the appropriately titled “Nightmoves” lays some slightly sinister noise over a continuous two-chord synth line. 

All that to say, many of these compositions, as ambient works, dwell in a world outside of common rock or pop song structure, and therefore, in a sense, expectation. There’s no waiting for a chorus to kick in, or a key change and bridge to introduce a new feeling or concept; these are mostly static arrangements with slight nuances taking shape over the course of each song. So on the one hand, for casual listeners looking for some good background music, or diehards who eat, sleep, and breathe intelligent electronic music, this is the jam for you. But for those with a vested interest in dynamics or anyone in search of an overlapping Deerhunter sound, Lifetime of Love might not be it. Admittedly, it’s probably an unfair metric of comparison, but one that’s unavoidable nonetheless. Closing track “End of Heartache”, though, does offer a rare glimpse at that exact type of songwriting: a lengthy dance pop number in the vein of Ariel Pink or Avey Tare with a poignant chorus built to ultimately satisfy both camps.

Art Contest: Two Songs

It’s been nearly two years since math-rock duo Art Contest relocated to Athens from Greenville, SC, bringing with it an unbridled musical curiosity. The band began preparing its sophomore album, Two Songs, during summer 2015, but a burglary at drummer Garrett Burke’s home that Christmas threw the project off course when the laptop containing master recordings was stolen. After extensively re-recording and adding new material—lyrics on the album’s namesake track address the break-in—the duo has managed to capture its exuberant live show on record, replete with all its technical savvy. Additionally, Two Songs provides an opportunity for the audiophiles to flex their engineering muscles in ways limited by performance, resulting in a record that balances playfulness with polish.

The album opens with a series of instrumental tracks that lay the groundwork for Burke and guitarist Cole Monroe’s stylized precision. Songs like the sprightly “Sports” and whirling “Wall Ball” demonstrate Monroe’s near-limitless ear for melody. Live, these arrangements consist of looped guitar lines, but here they’re multi-tracked and densely layered, allowing each figure to resonate with complete clarity in the mix and reveal the true potential of this two-man band. Burke takes advantage of every aspect of his kit, foregoing bland rhythmic structures to best serve each song, like the title track, which mixes rim shots, snare rolls and hi-hat barks while Monroe shouts, “Lost before they could see/ Some never heard again.”

Elf Power: Twitching In Time

With a now sixteen album lineage of psychedelic pop music spanning nearly twenty-five years, Athens’ Elf Power have established themselves as elder statesmen of the incredibly influential and prolific Elephant 6 recording collective. Although the collective’s members (of Montreal, Neutral Milk Hotel, and The Olivia Tremor Control, most notably) perform and release music at varying degrees of frequency, Elf Power remains one of the most dependable and communally active outfits of the bunch. By extension, their latest release, Twitching In Time, fits that same mold. It’s a record that doesn’t break much new ground with its equally divided forays into meditative folk ballads, driving power pop numbers and low key psychedelic experiences, but it’s a pleasantly consistent listen that nonetheless beckons for deeper listening.

Opening track “Halloween Out Walking” possesses an appropriately haunting quality with its arpeggiated acoustic guitar and lead singer Andrew Rieger’s cryptic, sage-like metaphors. Similarly, the pensive, piano-led third track, “Watery Shreds”, are really the album’s only explicitly somber takeaways (though others obviously have their moments), lending the album a sophisticatedly playful tone. The fuzzed out “Sniper In the Balcony” and driving title track further that tone and serve as standout exceptions amid a field of mid-tempo tunes characterized by relative containment. Scattered throughout the album, the latter seem to reach minor peaks, but their anticipated climaxes are often capped by reservation, never quite reaching the sonic pinnacle one might expect or hope for. 

Still, there are nuggets granting instant gratification like the bittersweet “All Things Combined”, ostensibly a rumination on aging that simplifies Rieger’s more labyrinthine turns of phrase, balancing them with concrete images of “a broke down car” in the driveway and “an empty jar” on the table. Its one of the most striking songs on Twitching In Time, serving as a centerpiece of sorts; despite the topic’s often somber characterization, there’s a sense of sublime acceptance as Reiger reflects and intones “I’m in the car, I’m driving home/I like to see the world alone.” And to cap it all off, closer “Gorging On the Feast”, which vaguely sounds like a meandering update of Pink Floyd’s “Time” with its intermittent sonic explosions, stands as an aural reward rather than a bookend.

Compared to previous Elf Power albums, there’s a greater sense of clarity to these compositions and their delivery. Rieger’s crisp vocals and his plaintive, poetic lyrics aren’t newfound characteristics of the Elf Power brand, but they’re paired here with relatively toned down arrangements indicative of a band this far along into their career. However one might feel about a band dwelling in their comfort zone, Twitching In Time is still a solid, inoffensive addition to a lengthy catalog, sheltering  a few gems from the careerist storm.

Keep up with the band here.

Drew Beskin: Cha-Ching Machine →

Over nearly a decade, Drew Beskin has established himself as a connoisseur of tightly structured, bar-ready power pop. As the frontman for the District Attorneys and, most recently, Purses, Beskin churned out twangy earworms accentuated by his fellow players’ proficiency. His solo debut, Cha-Ching Machine, featuring contributions from past collaborators Jeremy Wheatley and Phillip Brantley, doesn’t stray far from this mold, offering a handful of equally catchy tunes.

After the dust settles from the album’s initial boozy burst, the elegant ballad “Dwarf Antique,” which features lead lines from Wild Nothing guitarist Nate Goodman, reveals a clear-eyed sentimentality. Though Beskin has a propensity for slurred barn-burners, these slower, dynamic numbers serve as the album’s cornerstones. “I Don’t Know What to Do” and “Hair Metal” follow the example of “Dwarf Antique.” The former culminates in cleanly executed, interweaving guitar work, while the latter chug-a-lugs into a dramatic, cathartic crescendo.

While not a huge departure from his previous work, Cha-Ching Machine still capitalizes on pop and rock nuances Beskin has adopted and put his own idiosyncratic signature on: direct melodies, catchy choruses and a light peppering of vulnerability.

Flagpole's Top 10 Albums of 2016 →

Futo: Futo's Greatest Hits

While Patrick Brick’s music continues to evolve and vary, flitting between danceable synth-pop and lilting acoustic guitar, the one constant in his repertoire is an ability to intertwine the comic and tragic to the point of ambiguity. Take “The Internet Told Me I Have Cancer Again,” the opening track from Futo’s Greatest Hits. Despite that winsome refrain and a head-bob-inducing beat, the song presents a heart-wrenching fear of death only familiar to someone plagued by loss. Thank your lucky stars we have someone in town who can write a song ruminating on the end of life and use a faux-Craigslist ad about necromancers as its hook.

Muuy Biien: Age of Uncertainty

If you caught Muuy Biien live in 2016, you knew what was coming, but that didn’t make the revisionary wallop of Age of Uncertainty any less abrupt. Shedding its hardcore punk skin, the new iteration of the band flexes a funkier muscle on its latest long-player, the majority of which was recorded live at Chase Park Transduction. Singer Josh Evans turns his lyrical focus outward, coating bassist Parks Miller and drummer Jacob Lake’s lockstep groove with unfavorable critiques of modern society’s shortcomings.

Kuroma: The Dark Horse Rides Again

Chances are you’ve heard Hank Sullivant’s music before—he was a founding member of once-local garage-rock trio The Whigs and a touring member of indie-pop stars MGMT. While the popularity of those bands surged, Sullivant’s Kuroma project flew under the radar. On his latest release, The Dark Horse Rides Again, his conversion to Catholicism and gradual writing pace inform a potent batch of melodic, texture-driven psych-pop tunes.

While there’s much to compare to Kuroma’s psychedelic peers, like Tame Impala and Melody’s Echo Chamber, there’s more to be said about Sullivant’s playful and varied approach to songwriting. Dark Horse hits the ground running and rarely revisits the same territory, oscillating between kinetic barnburners (“A Day With No Disaster,” “Tennessee Walker”), angelic ballads (the supreme “Perfect Girl,” “I Don’t Know What I Should Do”) and smooth sailers (“Lucky Man,” “Uprising”). Additionally, Sullivant’s airy tenor compliments his songwriting well, bringing a lightness to his subject matter: religion, marriage, fatherhood.

Dark Horse is Kuroma’s most eloquently executed record to date. By allowing each song to simmer, piecing together the best takes from demos and tracking sessions and finding the perfect mix, the band energetically made a personal statement universal, giving plenty of reason why the group should be more than a blip on the radar going forward.

Flagpole's Favorite Local Albums of 2016 So Far

Arbor Labor Union: I Hear You

(Sub Pop) Despite a name change, the core of the band formerly known as Pinecones’ identity remains intact on the band’s sophomore album. As primal and ferocious as its debut, with a heavy emphasis on twang-inflected guitar and rhythmic groove, I Hear Youchannels Emerson, Thoreau and Whitman to create an inclusive listening experience. Singer Bo Orr’s voice is more tempered than on Sings For You Now—those titles alone should give listeners an indication that the band’s focus has shifted towards the shared experience—taking on the role of storyteller across engrossing, poetic vignettes. Songs like the chug-a-lugging “Radiant Mountain Road” and the slow-burning “Silent Oath” shirk structural changes, favoring repetitive figures that progressively build and find new footing along the way. They’re rides to be taken, ideas to be shared, songs to be heard.

Four Eyes: Welcome to Earth

(Independent Release) On Welcome to Earth, Erin Lovett sheds the extra layers of her recent full-band work, allowing her literary songwriting and idiosyncratic voice to carry this collection of emotionally hefty songs. The album’s title, taken from a baptismal address in Kurt Vonnegut’s God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, reflects Lovett’s pivot; her focus has shifted towards a weathered and wise form of reflection. There are traces of whimsy—like the creature checklist on “Monsters (I Am Scared)” and the daydreamy “Old Sedan”—but this is a record to hold close when life’s turns require heavy evaluation, rather than crank up to drown out the noise. Lovett gracefully straddles the line between intimacy and detachment. The album ends with “All Year I Did Nothing But Think of You,” which encapsulates that moment in a relationship when insecurities make way for contentment. After all, babies, you’ve got to be kind.

Team SS: Sawce

(Independent Release) Justin “Loyal” Smith and Keefie “3ft” Johnson released Sawce on New Year’s Day, their second album together as Team SS. The extremely eclectic record finds the two putting on for their city (“Let’s Go”), waxing nostalgic on childhood barbecues (“I Remember”) and praising romantic partners (“Beautiful”) in equal measure, and places them at the front of the Athens hip hop pack. Producers Klubba Lang, Ace Infinity and Esskimo provide the duo with a diverse array of beats, keeping things interesting yet simple enough to keep the focus on each lyricist’s delivery. The sparse “World Drama” allows a line like “Sometimes it’s hard to get/ When you’re never taught to give” and other observations on policing and the Black Lives Matter movement to land with full force. No matter your stylistic leanings—socially conscious or braggadocious; low-key or club-friendly—you’ll find plenty to enjoy with Sawce.

Blessed Isles : Straining Hard Against the Strength of Night

Creative compulsion can be an aggravating force without focus. For the typical modern artist, one must slog through a lengthy process of writing, recording and pre-release press build-up before the piece of work they’ve toiled over meets the world’s ears. One could easily lose interest in the art of crafting an album, growing detached from it as time dilutes the initial raw emotion behind each song’s creation—or, at the very least, wish to move on to some new project or endeavor. To stick with it, though, especially after a period of five years, as Brooklyn duo The Blessed Isles did with their debut, Straining Hard Against the Strength of Night, deserves a whole ‘nother level of commendation. Straining’s seemingly effortless modernization of shoegaze, New Wave and Britpop elements proves that the duo’s time was indeed well spent.

“Caroline,” with its delay-heavy guitar intro and punchy drum machine serve as the perfect opener. The guitars sway back and forth, with a rich Heaven or Las Vegas-era Cocteau Twins allure, clearing momentarily for singer/guitarist Aaron Closson’s soothing vocal entrance. The swirl of noise and subtlety of Closson’s voice is subterfuge, however, as the song’s chorus and bridge reveal a love turning its back. This push and pull continues throughout Straining: incredibly peppy dream pop sections make way for even more propulsive choruses at the drop of a hat, like on second track “Like I Am Dreaming,” with its eventual aggressive guitar squall, and mid-album track “Give,” which erupts into a crystalline swell as each snare hit accentuates the guitars with a firecracker pop.

Straining really hits the sweet spot of English popular and alternative music from the past 35 years or so, synthesizing these elements and falling right into place among the best and most notable contemporary American acts purveying similar sounds. As Closson croons, “The colors move ‘round you slowly, the desperation comes,” on the arpeggiated, synth-heavy “Chase Away the Sun,” one can’t help but wonder why these guys aren’t already opening for Wild Nothing or The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. Suffice it to say, it’s hard to ignore that the years and years spent putting this record together have left Closson and multi-instrumentalist Nolan Thies with something worthy of comparing to the monuments of their forebears.

While The Blessed Isles deal in a resurgent style that still hasn’t fully swept the American public by storm like all things indie did in the mid-2000s, the band’s pop sheen is undeniable. Though these ten songs deal in thickly layered guitars, synthesizers and snapping drum machines, they’re really some of the most accessible, tasteful earworms around; it’s apparent just how much each moving part here was fine-tuned, with a focus and patience rivaled by few others.

David Bazan: Blanco

Long before Justin Vernon made camp in a cabin in the woods, or Sufjan Stevens attempted to put the history of our 50 states to song, songsmith David Bazan was turning his struggles with faith and everyday life into emotionally hefty tunes as Pedro the Lion. While his personal beliefs wavered and evolved, so too did his musical style; Pedro the Lion’s emo-influenced sound—from the lighter approach of 1998’s It’s Hard To Find A Friend to 2002’s heavy Control— made way for his electronic-focused project Headphones. Bazan eventually abandoned both monikers, opting instead to release music under his own name, but his gritty, afflicted, realistic subject matter remained a cornerstone of his songwriting. Though he’s never secured the same widespread acclaim as the indie darlings that followed his lead, Bazan proves yet again on his latest album, Blanco, that his craftsmanship and heart aching songs remain unrivaled.

Culled from a collection of tracks previously released as 7-inch singles, Bazanimmediately presents himself as a man still unable to find answers to the questions he’s been asking for years. On opening track “Both Hands,” a flurry of synths pan over a steady drum machine before he laments, “Can’t help but wonder why it feels like both hands still over my eyes.” The existential obfuscation isn’t delivered in panic, though, but rather in an accepting malaise; “I understand I can’t sweat what mystery hides,” he concludes by the song’s end.

For those less familiar with Bazan, it’s incredibly important to note how much this guy tours, as that seeps its way into this record quite a bit. Sure, you’re bound to log some miles playing music professionally for nearly 20 years, but between a mixture of house shows and club shows in support of his 2011 release, Strange Negotiations, and 2012’s ten-year anniversary tour of Control, Bazan earned the title of most-touring artist on the Billions Corporation’s roster—quite a feat considering the booking agency represents the industry’s top touring talent, including Arcade Fire, Beach House and Future Islands, to name a few. One might then begin to vaguely understand the strain Bazan feels as a father and a friend, away from home for weeks on end missing his family, unable to relate to his peers working nine-to-five desk jobs when he returns home. This sentiment peaks through clearly on both “Oblivion” and “Teardrops.” The former is a beat-heavy number with scattered bleeps and bloops, Bazan singing: “On a six week solo drive/while your friends work nine to five/what really threw me off/ is that after all these years I thought/ I’d work it out.” The latter incorporates acoustic guitar, which is used sparingly throughout the album, as he narrates a scene in which he closes his eyes and tries to collect himself while on the road, only to rear-end someone, jolting him back to reality.

The Seattleite’s most recent qualms pair well with Blanco’s instrumentation—a welcome return to, and a natural improvement upon, the sounds he experimented with on 2005’s Headphones record. Enveloped in layers of distorted synth and drum machines, Bazan sheds the reductive singer/songwriter trope of sentimentalist with an acoustic guitar and imbues his yearning with lush, modern electronics. “With You,” for instance, sounds like a Pacific Northwestern spin on the Drive soundtrack, while “Little Motor” fittingly closes the record with a final sweep, Bazan’s languid delivery countering the consistent pulse of synthetic and organic keys.

It does take a particular soul to weather Bazan’s persistent melancholy. There’s been little heart-on sleeve romanticism or populist whimsy throughout his recording career, but that’s exactly what has set him apart from the pack. Through intensely personal storytelling and raw emotionality, Bazan has continuously attempted to answer the questions that plague him—and, really, all of us—earning the loyalty of a fanbase so moved that they would offer up their own homes to 50-plus strangers, just to have the man share his stories and play them some songs. While there still seems to be no answer to the question, no clarity to the confusion, on Blanco there is at least an acceptance of the turmoil.