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En Attendant Ana - "Principia"

Parisian quintet En Attendant Ana return with Principia (out via Trouble In Mind), their third album and what feels like a major turning point for their music. While Juillet was loaded with fuzzy pop hooks and dazzling melodies, the band have pushed further this time around, still oozing pop charm at every turn, but expanding further into their left-field inclinations. With a pair of members that had joined just prior to and shortly after the release of Juillet, it would seem the quintet has become tightly glued together throughout Principia, working as a band with kinetic energy to bring Margaux Bouchaudon’s songs to life in vivid detail. Everyone plays their part, shinning in equal measure throughout a record that’s carefully constructed in favor of sonic clarity, pulling back elements to introduce others, careful to keep the ever-present swoon perpetually un-muddied. The sound is as much jazzy and intricate French pop as it is melancholic power-pop. A dynamic sense of melody is paired with a surging rhythm section that shifts between motorik and boss nova beats.

Principia is a record themed on the fundamental principles of being a human in modern times, and the perceptions we face both outward and inward. Bouchaudon’s lyrics deal with societal collapse, constant consumerism, gendered expectations, and the need for escape. She tackles heavy subjects with a light approach, careful to avoid the feelings of doom and gloom, but conscious enough to acknowledge its unfortunate presence.

En Attendant Ana have always taken a unique approach to fuzzy indie pop, writing songs that don’t always feel immediate but really gel themselves into your memory with repeat listens. It’s subtle and stunning songwriting in a genre where subtly is scarce. Lead single and title track “Principia” the album’s perfect introduction, a steady progress of their unwavering pop charms. Led by Bouchaudon’s dreamy vocal melody and an innocent jangle, the song is at times reminiscent of both The Cardigans, and Alvvays, coloring in the accents with echoing guitar scrapes and soaring hooks. They’ve been acing those songs since their inception, but it’s really only one side of the record’s multifaceted story though.

Much of Pricipia’s magic lies in the krautpop sprawl of tracks like “Ada, Mary, Diane,” “Same Old Story,” and to an extent “Wonder,” songs that augment the band’s usual dream pop bliss a boost of silky energy, hinging itself upon the jazzy lounge and noise pop of bands like Electrelane, Stereolab, and Antena. En Attendant Ana do their influences proud, reshaping the sophisticated and hypnotic sound by adding their own distinct feel to it, slightly fuzzy but completely locked in. Camille Frechou’s sax and trumpet skronk is resonant and resilient, coloring the songs just beneath the layers. The band dive right into the motorik charm with a slinking rhythmic backbone and guitars that oscillate between bent chords and scraping noise. They’ve learned to embrace detail as much as they have repetition, swirling between psych pop past and futuristic sound. - DG

Pile - "All Fiction"

Pile have never quite released the same album twice, yet remain almost impossibly consistent. The ability to constantly change and progress their sound while still remaining unequivocally true to themselves is a testament to the strength of their songwriting and their collective performances. Even as the pieces change and the puzzle rearranges, the quality and vision remains intact. All Fiction may just be their biggest leap into new territory thus far, and yet it feels like the Pile we’ve always loved.

They’ve changed focus, moving away from the “traditional rock band” attack into a world more expansive, filled with strings, synths, and studio experiments, but their sense for fractured rhythms and sprinkled melodies feels familiar. With songs both urgent and textural, Pile have developed an album that really demands to be heard in full, transitioning from one movement to the next. While songs like “Loops” blast with Kris Kuss’ near melodic percussion and synths that creep, crawl, setting a shadowy tension, there’s still strength in disorienting guitars and warped hooks. There are times throughout the album that feel as though your brain is being restructured, where ideas and thoughts you once knew and had feel like they’ve been rearranged. All Fiction is the sound of the band evolving, with segments both familiar and those that welcome us to new exploratory territory. “Poisons” is a shining example of both. It rips like a classic Pile song, but the path feels triumphantly discombobulated and detached. Not everything is what it would seem.

All Fiction is a labor of love, it’s the sound of a band taking the time to figure out what motivates and challenges them, an album that rejuvenates both their interest and expands our perception of their music. “Nude With A Suitcase” is perception unglued. Pile brings us deep into the synth heavy world of the record, wrapping itself in contorted vocal samples and whirring soundscapes to create a surrealism that feels both claustrophobic at times and brilliantly vast at others. Pile manipulate new sounds without losing touch of Rick Maguire’s signature songwriting touchstones. The trio still offer a rollercoaster of dynamic shifts, gut wrenching melodies, and layered rhythms, but it feels naturally engrained in their alien atmosphere, like a warning of danger or maybe a feeling of unease upon entering a strange new world beyond.

All Fiction moves away from brutality into something more amorphous. It’s not quite that they’ve gone soft, there’s an undeniable heaviness and tension lurking beneath the surface, but the aggression has transferred itself into layers of motion, the sound of synths and samples working in harmony with the low hum of ominous bass and the ever magnificent shuffle of Kuss’ cascading drums. The entire construction is with intention, designed in a way that will feel at its core, but surreal on surface level. As melodies waver and tension mounts, the lingering unease is met with lush keys, Maguire’s warm vocals, and a release that presents itself almost in non-linear fashion. - DG

Yo La Tengo - "This Stupid World"

I’m far from an authority on New York via New Jersey’s Yo La Tengo, a band that pretty much defines the blueprint for indie rock innovation and longevity. For nearly forty years the have earned a reputation as one of the world’s consummate bands, building a catalog of artistic consistency by shifting their sound over time, expanding their palette album after album. Over the course of eighteen or nineteen albums (really depends on how you count them), the band have made distortion soaked noise pop, krautrock, and plenty of gentle and dreamy experimental indie. They’ve touched upon near everything else in the process, from instrumental records and wonderfully strange collaborations to covers records and meditative atmospherics. It’s entirely possible for someone to love a handful of their albums where others might not connect (though you have to respect the resulting trail of experimentation). With several records considered to be generational classics, it would appear that 38 years into their existence, they just might have released another one with their latest, This Stupid World.

There’s an adventurous sense of freedom to the record that comes hurtling out from the start on the dissonant and motorik glisten of “Sinatra Drive Breakdown,” a song that feels like a peek into the trio’s jam sessions. Building in no particular rush to actually get anywhere, Yo La Tengo are scrapping the paint from the walls in the process. They do have destinations in sight though, and as masters of their craft, even their expansive reaches waste no time. Repetition becomes key, setting the atmosphere only to bring us elsewhere is an important part of the journey, highlighted on songs like the harmonically rich “Fallout” and the hypnotic pulse of “Tonight’s Episode” (an effortless live classic in the making). There’s a whole world out there to explore though (a stupid world at that), and Yo La Tengo dip into beautiful folk (“Aselestine”), silky lounge charm (“Until It Happens”), sonic discordance (“Brain Capers,” “This Stupid World”), and well… they’ve never sounded better in the process. - DG

Blonde Revolver - "Good Girls Go To Heaven, Bad Girls Go Everywhere"

Following a great self-titled EP in 2021, Melbourne’s Blonde Revolver have released their highly anticipated full length debut, the perfectly titled, Good Girls Go To Heaven, Bad Girls Go Everywhere . Out now via Rack Off Records (Shove, Future Suck), the sextet have made an essential punk record, full of charm and attitude, with songs both serious and undeniably fun, from tales of youthful hi-jinx to furious odes of female empowerment. The band blend together synth punk and hardcore in the process, resulting in a set that’s tough as nails, wonderfully askew, and impressively catchy. There are songs about shitty lovers, shittier expectations hoisted upon them, and at least two songs that deal with vampires.

With the band’s six piece line-up (comprised of members of so many great Melbourne bands), there’s a density to each song, layered with guitars and synths, built on resonant rhythms, and led by Zoe Mulcahy’s commanding vocals. At its core it’s an album about being who you are, becoming the person you want to be, and not the person someone else expects you to be. They take the power back from those that want to objectify and demoralize them, giving those hung up on polite feminine behavior a swift kick in the teeth. The album opens with a sample and an adaption of Nerf Herder’s Buffy The Vampire Slayer theme, setting the tone. For every bit as serious as the record’s themes are, the band are still having fun, and it’s apparent throughout the constantly-agitated-but-too-busy-having-fun-making-music-with-friends album. Songs like “Romeo” ooze with hardcore spirit, racing through amid pounding drums and corrosive riffs, while stand-out single “Lipstick and Leather,” opts for woozy post-punk, heavy on synths and motorik rhythms. Every track rips with hooks and primal riffs, burning the patriarchy to the ground one riotous shout along anthem at a time. - DG

Oozing Wound - "We Cater To Cowards"

DIY’s favorite thrash band ain’t a thrash band no more. Chicago’s Oozing Wound have been pigeonholed for the better part of the past decade, and well… it didn’t always fit then, but it certainly doesn’t fit on their latest album, We Cater To Cowards. Out now via Thrill Jockey Records (Big|Brave, Sightless Pit, Lightning Bolt), the tempos have curdled but the attack remains as blistering as ever. While the lead single, “The Good Times (I Don’t Miss ‘Em),” is built on buzzing riffs and lumbering rhythms, the trio setting their sights between the harsh scrappy side of Nirvana and the scummier end of the AmRep catalog. Much like their timeless influences, Oozing Wound manage to find accessibility within the rotting tension, pulling out hooks that aren’t necessarily catchy, but still serving a purpose of something to latch onto while simultaneously swinging with reckless abandon.

It’s probably the first Oozing Wound album that you could confidently describe as “noise rock,” and we’re fairly certain it’ll be among the genre’s best this year (a bold statement made in January). Genre lines are shaky at best (consider it a broad frame of reference), but throughout We Cater To Cowards, the trio really work to resurrect the sound of In Utero’s corpse re-thought, re-spawned, and built into their own Frankenstein’s monster of unrelenting aggression, snide humor, and the undefinable weight of massive low-end. The album swings between poles of density and dynamic bludgeoning, and the results feel genuinely explosive. We’re all left standing in the smoldering wreckage of an album that’s both well written and executed, but also sounds phenomenal (shout out to engineer Gregoire Yeche and Bonati Mastering). The bass and drums hit so hard it feels like the band are violently shaking us from complacency and hammering in much needed common sense like nails to the skull. There’s a sense of ruptured earth, a disturbance that can’t be ignored, with a plodding immediacy and general lack of melodic attention, this one is swarming tension, festering in the shadows after a relentless decimation. - DG

Beauty Pill - "Blue Period"

It could be said that there are probably too many reissues. Anniversary editions of records that aren’t even out of print. Albums that are never out of print. Beauty Pill’s Blue Period collection however, is not one of those releases. This one is Essential with a capital E. Pairing together the timeless classic that is The Unsustainable Lifestyle LP and the You Are Right To Be Afraid EP on vinyl for the first time ever, this is the one we’ve all been waiting for. We all know the narrative that critics were less than thrilled with the record upon release, which is a great reminder that opinions are like assholes, every one has one and sometimes they stink. The Unsustainable Lifestyle is a profound album, both in its sonic vision as it restructures art-rock, and in the lyrics, an exploration of hard times under hard circumstances. Its impeccable from start to finish, the type of record that feels as radiant now as it did nearly two decades ago.

Blue Period expands the picture with unreleased b-sides including “Fugue State Companion,” a song that topples with a reckless rhythmic intro before gliding into the blissful melodic pocket that Chad Clark has perfected and “I Don’t Live Today,” a Jimi Hendrix cover recorded during the Unsustainable Lifestyle era. Beauty Pill pay homage to the original with an intent on minimalism. Chad Clark notes they decided to experiment with Moog filters and the result pulls the guitars away from the frontline, leaving the clattering of ping-ponging drums (seriously, listen to this with headphones on). - DG

Arbor Labor Union - "Yonder"

Open your mind and zone out, way out, together with Atlanta’s great Arbor Labor Union. The past few years have found the band embracing their Southern roots, channeling their way through cosmic Americana while retaining their weirdo punk sense of adventure. They’ve locked in, exploring krautrock and spliced and frayed psych, while maintaining the fluid nature and rolling boogie of classic rock and twangy punk. Yonder, the band’s latest album is a spiritual successor to 2020’s New Petal Instants, picking up the natural essence and continuing to warp repetitive structures with knotted progressions and disjointed rhythms, landing with a complex choogle that feels as breezy as the front-porch air. Songs like the rattled title track and early single “Hovering Stone” recall the best work of the Meat Puppets, but the itchy tempos (“Undoom’d”) and elastic melodies (“Real Beasts”) of Arbor Labor Union feel unique, pulled from a southern fried core and filtered through a decade of DIY punk pedigree. Up the twang, up the punx… Arbor Labor Union prove it to be possible. - DG

Naima Bock - "Giant Palm"

With life (and a never ending run of bad politics) seemingly kicking us in the face at all times in recent memory, it feels great to sink yourself into Naima Bock’s solo debut, Giant Palm, as gorgeous an escape as they come. The former Goat Girl member steps out on her own, leaving behind that band’s perfectly dusty post-punk twang in favor of embracing her roots, opting for lush folk and orchestral pop, delivered through an ever changing lens of Brazilian influences (where Bock spent much of her childhood), electronic textures, and stunning classical touches. Every song offers something a bit different, with Bock’s beautiful voice the constant, sitting perfectly in a mix of sweeping strings, woodwinds, choirs, and beyond. Tracks like album stand-out “Toll” offer an ever building mix of acoustic instrumental layers and a genuinely stunning progression, with Bock’s locked in melody at its heart. Her voice is among the most gorgeous we’ve ever known, with an impactful resonance to every word of Bock’s evolving introspection. Her compositions really fuse disparate textures together with grace, the results gentle but nuanced on what could be the year’s best album. - DG