Sweet Williams occupies a unique space, taking influence from sludge, noise rock and following in the tradition of bands like Unwound and Lungfish. They have found a sweet spot. Though it’s tempting at times to compare them to one band or another, it’s clear that What’s Wrong With You defies any attempts at labelling this band.
Mia Berrin, with a blistering attitude and personal freedom indebted to self-discovery, establishes herself as a songwriter of raw pathos. The kind where every plucked string is a “fuck you.” The kind where snark and melodrama are cherished tenets of a sound and style. The kind that’s so fundamentally queer, it’s inspiring.
Cavalcade has been out for nearly a month now, and we’re all still oozing over how they managed to rip it up and start once more in their own orbit. The change to producer John “Spud” Murphy and significant increase in the size of their backing arrangements did not betray their adherence to any of the critical Speedy Wunderground tenants.
The latest in Mountain Movers’ deepening discography, World What World shows the New Haven, Connecticut band continuing to explore their own beautifully distorted landscape. Crucial to the band’s sound is the live and unrestrained form that each album takes; a performance that’s tastefully edited to fit the LP format.
Unlike their main canon, documents of Can’s live performances offer a glimpse of the group pre-edit. They give no sign of a set list - songs pick up gradually, often one musician at a time, and dissipate just as organically. The set is entirely instrumental, as were most of their performances following the departure of vocalist Damo Suzuki.
Century Egg know how to write songs that stick like a greasy cowlick in the morning, and their latest EP is a capillaceous pillar of joy-struck guitar rock that refuses to be combed back down. The Halifax quartet’s cross between punk, garage and Mandopop makes for some deliriously exuberant “rock and roll” music.
With Drool, the South London band seems to make the case that their early years were just a lead-up to the earth-shaking post-hardcore they’d produce in their second coming. The looser songs of the past have all but entirely been supplanted by the thunder-heeled, mid-tempo thumpers that always were Part Chimp’s real speciality.
Philly’s thriving underground scene has had as much of an impact on Steven Perez’s productions as salsa and merengue. On his latest effort, Dun Dun, he swaps colorful confidence for shy neurosis. Written over the course of 2020’s social upheaval, Pedazo De Carne Con Ojo’s newfound fixation with anxiety feels fitting for our times.
Philary's LP Uh-Oh It's Me is a range of emotions, both complex/simple, as well as individually personal/broadly relatable. As such, the compositions reflect in a way that is plethoric, luxuriant, and colorful. Guitars weep and wail, drums thunder and lightning, and unwavering-yet-omnifarious vocals guide the ship across the terra incognita.
On their rambunctious and irreverent third LP Came Down Different, San Francisco punks Pardoner bring their noisy sound into focus. Hidden under their layers of feedback and distorted guitars are some damn fine pop songs. This time around, the trio allow the melodies to peak through their signature wall of sound a bit more.
Present Tense doesn’t have time for a meet and greet. It opens in media res; percussion bomb blasts, a gristling base, and snaring garage riffs and bloodshot vocals. If you know FACS, then you’re already home. Over the past few years, the Chicago trio’s annual dispatches have seen significant augmentation.
Sweep It Into Space was recorded at the end of 2019, featuring co-production by Philadelphia singer-songwriter Kurt Vile. Much like the four albums released on Jagjaguwar as part of their reunion, the band have dialed back the noise and chaos, without sacrificing the energy or the consistency in the quality of the music that’s been released.
Sometimes a record comes along that is felt, rather than heard. Chicago multi-instrumentalist Mia Joy’s debut album, Spirit Tamer, gently wraps around you, enveloping with its whispered invitations and ethereal ambience. The intimacy feels a purposeful creation on Mia’s part, not just as a result of the tranquil sonic template.
Whereas her previous two albums dealt with the grief and dissociation caused by the death of her mother, Jubilee processes all of Zauner’s emotion into an expression of joyous, utter feeling. It’s an affirmation of her life, of our lives, through collective experiences of triumph we share together. Simply put, it’s stunning.
It might be facetious to call Mesh a post-punk band. Much of this record sounds like classic scuzzy and snotty garage rock, particularly of the kind that grew in popularity at the start of this century. The whole thing is supremely infectious, filled with catchy choruses and thirstful energy; these songs are made to be danced to furiously.
