For a debut record, You Can Do It All demonstrates tremendous balance. For every dense and gritty riff, there is a bouncy pop vocal melody, with a focus on blending basement-jam sounds, catchy verses, and choruses. In lyrical content, the band spirals through all of the hallmarks of young adult life.
Like many of their contemporaries, Squid have drifted into a sound that’s less direct and angry with more prog rock influence. While Black Midi and Black Country, New Road have veered hard into theatricality, whether it be through absurd virtuosity or intense emotionality, Squid make the move in a way that retains more indie-rock dejection.
Protomartyr have returned with their strongest and most optimistic album yet. At least, optimistic for Protomartyr. Formal Growth in the Desert is their way of expressing art finding its way in a world increasingly infertile for creativity. It’s a testament to art’s ability to spring forth in spite of the ever-tightening economic restraints.
The LA indie rocker’s debut Don’t Take My Dream Away is an album full of contradictions - everything is bittersweet, she’s both a Good Girl and a Bad Boy. Over thirteen guitar driven tracks, Early dissects crumbling relationships, all-consuming crushes, and dreams deferred with the wisdom only experience can bring.
I Only See the Moon returns to the tried-and-true form of their first three albums but learns from the mistakes of their next two, even as it shifts the experience. It feels like a first-person account of what it’s like to be The Milk Carton Kids’ microphone – right in your ears, Kenneth Pattengale stage left, Joey Ryan stage right.
The minds that brought you Profligate, Pleasure Leftists, Cloud Nothings, and Nothing Phase fit each other brilliantly on Time Moves for Me, the debut EP from the supergroup of the Cleveland underground. Somewhere between synth rock and post-punk, Disintegration charts an alternative path forward that is, simply, cooler.
The lo-fi album oozes the same unrefined, saturated melodies of indie’s past while toying with idiosyncrasies that create a unique sound. Blistering guitar solos, mellow vocals, and harmonic distortion perfectly chart Radiator Hospital’s dedication to their home-made aesthetic while proving the range they’ve developed over the past decade.
Mike Quiqley's songwriting tends toward introspection and pathos that are alternately shouted and sullenly expressed with a strange combination of unease and passion that works astonishingly well. The songs are filled with acerbic observations about the mundanity of life, a healthy dose of self-deprecation, and awareness.
Stuck’s expertise lies in making deeply entertaining post-punk and art rock by means of leading the listener into unknown and unpredictable directions. Each song metaphorically tears into the listener with the canines and incisors and slowly but surely moves them into the morals in the back of the mouth, ruminating on its themes.
Angel Diaz’s more traditional shoegaze sound maps perfectly onto Madeline Johnston’s self-described “heaven metal.” The arrangements are more lush and layered than any previous Midwife project; the drum loops generally sound more organic, the guitars are richer, and more synth countermelodies pop in to keep interest.
Compared to Wiki’s last few releases, Papiseed Street is especially loose and playful. He has a real talent for building momentum across a song, stacking vivid images on top of vignettes, jokes, and emotional insights. Wiki’s newest offerings are vibrant and off-the-cuff, full of his trademark personality.
Gracie Jackson’s journeyed voice reflects the years of entropy and moil but spins that into songs of self-determination, confidence, and humor. Whether eating fried chicken in a hazmat suit, breaking up fights, or dancing with a stranger in a white stetson, her narrative lyrics are almost cinematic in their oddly specific detail.
