Come the 3rd of March, Nite Jewel – aka Ramona Gonzalez – will release her album, One Second of Love, via Secretly Canadian, following on from her Am I Real? EP back in 2010. We’ve already heard on a couple of tracks, so what harm is another one? Listen to “In The Dark” below.

Next week twee-electro act SolarSolar will release their debut album, Pilot. Before that day arrives, though, comes the video of one of the album’s strongest tracks, “Walking Like Children,” where we follow a lonely magician about in black and white. Check it out below.

Ahead of it’s release on the 14th of this month (i.e. next week), Seattle band Earth have offered up a stream of their new album, Angels Of Darkness, Demons of Light II. The album comes less than a year after 2011′s Darkness, Angels Of Light I, which makes sense since both albums were recorded at the same time, so if you liked the first part, then you’re in a for a drone-tastic treat! Listen to it below courtesy of Pitchfork.

At the end of one of their live sets last year, New Jersey rockers The Gaslight Anthem treated their audience with a cover of The Who’s “Baba O’Riley.” While it was a spontaneous Christmas treat for fans who attended the show when they played it back in December, those good spirits have been offered to all as the band put up an official video of the song, with some fine stereo sound and visual work. Check it out below:

Come March 27th, Canadian four-piece outfit will release their second album, entitled Busting Visions. Ahead of that moment in time, why not listen to the first single from that album, called “Anything You Want Dear”? With plenty of guitars, peppy vocals and a healthy dose of casual swaggering, it could well brighten your day that little bit more. Listen and download the track below (via Rolling Stone).

MP3:Zeus – “Anything You Want Dear”

I hope you’ve got a good graphics card ready, as the new video for “The Fox” by Niki and the Dove, is a exquisitely formed CGI-fest. Over vast mountains, forests, and through space, a mysterious figure (who – and I’m just making a guess here – is “The Fox”) falls with style as he/she/it goes through numerous mask changes, like a model backstage at New York Fashion Week. It’s an odd one, but Niki and the Dove’s vibrant and somewhat subtly flamboyant track carries it along nicely. Check it out below:

Despite the fact that his latest work, the rather wonderful Five Years With The Sun EP, has yet to be officially released (it’s due next week on the 14th), Portland based musician Malcom Lacey – better known as Arrange – has already set his sights on his next release. New Memory will be a “Mini-LP”, and is set for a March/April release. However, Lacey’s looking to self-release the record on vinyl, and to do that he’s sought the help of his listeners, via Kickstarter. He’s set aside some generous prizes, including CDs, LPs, video chats and even your own personal live show. If the Kickstarter page is anything to go by, then check out the tracklisting below, along with the video for the track “When We Saw”:

New Memory:

1. Ivory Pt. 1
2. And My Hands Denied Me My Right
3. Caves
4. North
5. When We Saw
6. Ivory Pts. 2 + 3

As the praise of John Talabot’s debut album fIN starts building momentum, he’s put together a 72-minute long, 20-track mix for FACT Magazine. Rather than filling the mix with extra material of his own creation, the mix is more a collection of tracks that Talabot obviously has a fondness for and that may/may not have inspired his own music. That said, be sure to listen out for his mix of Shakarchi & Stranéus’ “It’s my love” in the middle. Check out the tracklisting and download the mix below:

John Talabot – FACT mix315

1. Phase 6 – Deep Motion
2. Mental – I want to Know Where Dub Is
3. Chateau Marmont – Nibiru (Beautiful Swimmers Late Night Dubbing Mix)
4. Warpaint – Undertow (N C Remix)
5. Rekid – Next Stop Chicago
6. Cos Ber Zam – Ne Noya (Daphni edit)
7. Jersey Devil Club – Hommage at 128
8. Cole Medina – We Call it Good to me
9. Sun La Shan – Catch (Dub version)
10. Jus Ed – 10 Am mix
11. Shakarchi & Stranéus – It’s my love (John Talabot Redrumedit)
12. African Dreams – Make a Living
13. Lovebirds – Keep coming (Axel Boman Remix)
14. Dauwd – Acireams
15. Soft Rocks – Magic Milk (Beautiful Swimmers Remix)
16. Omar S, Ob Ignitt – Wayne County Hill Cop’s
17. Dream 2 Science – My Love Turns to Liquid
18. Projekt : PM – When the Voices Comes
19. Blondes – Water (Bicep remix)
20. NAD – Distant Drums

A mere day after announcing a new split 10″ with his fiancée, Locket Pundt – aka Lotus Plaza – has turned word of a new album due later this year into confirmed reality. His next album will be called Spooky Action at a Distance and will hit the shelves on 2nd April, coming near enough two years after 2009′s The Floodlight Collective. Like his last album, he’ll once again be releasing it on Kranky. Check out the tracklisting after the jump.

If this excites you, then you may also be pleased to hear that Pundt will be heading out on a tour in a month’s time, accompanied by Disappears, Psychic Ills and Lee Ranaldo at various points. Check out
the tour dates below.

Spooky Action at a Distance:

1. Untitled
2. Strangers
3. Out of Touch
4. Dusty Rhodes
5. White Galactic One
6. Monoliths
7. Jet Out of the Tundra
8. Eveningness
9. Remember Our Days
10. Black Buzz

Lotus Plaza 2012 tour dates:

3-7 Atlanta, GA – 529 $
4-13 Chicago, IL – Lincoln Hall ^
4-14 Ann Arbor, MI – The Yellow Barn ^
4-15 Toronto, Ontario – The Garrison ^
4-16 Montreal, Quebec – Casa del Popolo ^
4-17 Ithaca, NY – The Haunt ^*
4-18 Albany, NY – Valentine’s ^*
4-19 Brooklyn, NY – Glasslands Gallery ^
4-20 Philadelphia, PA – Johnny Brenda’s ^
4-21 Raleigh, NC – King’s Barcade ^
4-22 Knoxville, TN – Pilot Light ^
4-24 Atlanta, GA – The Earl
4-25 Birmingham, AL – The Bottletree ^
4-27 Austin, TX – Austin Psych Fest
4-28 Dallas, TX – Club Dada ^
4-29 Memphis, TN – Hi-Tone Cafe ^
4-30 St. Louis, MO – The Luminary Center for the Arts
5-1 Kansas City, MO – The Record Bar
5-2 Denver, CO – Larimer Lounge
5-3 Salt Lake City, UT – Urban Lounge
5-4 Boise, ID – Neurolux
5-5 Seattle, WA – Neumos
5-6 Vancouver, British Columbia -The Media Club
5-7 Portland, OR – Doug Fir Lounge
5-9 San Francisco, CA – The Independent
5-10 Los Angeles, CA – Echo
5-11 San Diego, CA – Soda Bar
5-12 Tucson, AZ – Plush
5-13 El Paso, TX – Lowbrow Palace
5-15 Houston, TX – Fitzgerald’s
5-16 New Orleans, LA – One Eyed Jacks

$ with Psychic Ills
^ with Disappears
* with Lee Ranaldo

If you weren’t one of the 152 million people watching the Super Bowl this weekend past, then you might have missed M.I.A. flipping her audience off during her appearance in the halftime show, as part of Madonna’s song “Give Me All Your Luvin’.” While such an action might seem almost natural for a liberating, almost nonchalant artist like M.I.A, she may well pay the consequence – literally.

If the FCC chooses to come down on the NFL for her hand action, it’ll be M.I.A who will bear the brunt of the cost due to a contractual agreement she has with the NFL. According to TMZ, “M.I.A. agreed to indemnify the NFL for any money it might be
forced to pay if the FCC comes down on the Peacock Network [NBC].”

Of course, this isn’t the first time such legal action has been threatened come to be a reality. Back in 2004, if you remember, the FCC fined NBC over half a million dollars when janet Jackson’s breast made its television debut. Thankfully – for Jackson, at least – the fine was dropped in appellate court. M.I.A.’s accountant may well be hoping for a similar fate.

Watch the whole half-time show below:

Ahead of a live show in Los Angeles tomorrow (7th February), Com Truise (the moniker for New York/Princeton based Seth Haley) has dropped a new mixtape, aptly titled the Check Yo Ponytail Mixtape, which is also the name of the night he’ll be playing. During his show he’ll be joined by Teengirl Fantasy, Soft Metals and Green Horse. Check out the track listing for the mixtape below, and download it over at Filter, if you so desire!

Check Yo Ponytail Mixtape

01. VHS 1
02. Wutendes Glas
03. VHS 2
04. Advisory Circle – Sundial
05. Boards of Canada – Iced Cooly
06. New Order – This Time Of Night (Live)
07. Skinny Boys – Unity
08. Harry Forbes – Technicality No. 3
09. Andy Clark – Fat Cats
10. Das Kabinette – Fudge It
11. The Fashion – Future Girl (Instrumental)
12. Dave Jackson – Mini Logos 4
13. Jeff Newmann – Future Design
14. International Music System – Dancing Therapy
15. Com Truise – A DAT 2
16. Com Truise – A DAT 3
17. Steve Everitt – Breakdance
18. Luis Jardim – Soul Train
19. Com Truise – I dream (For you)
20. Mark J. Cairns – Airwolf Theme

Next week – the 14th February – Lotus Plaza will release a split 10″ single which will feature a new song entitled “Come Back,” ahead of a new album due in the unspecified future on Kranky. As well as this, a collaboration between Lotus Plaza – aka Deerhunter guitarist Lockett Pundt – and Nice Weekend will be on the flip side of the 10″, which is a rather charming combination of artists since Nice Weekend’s Shayda Yavari is Pundt’s fiancée. Suddenly that release date makes much more sense. Anyway, the vinyl – limited to 500 – will be out in a week’s time, as said, on Audraglint Recordings, but check out the nine-minute cut from Lotus Plaza below:

MP3: Lotus Plaza – Come Back

Fresh from his appearance on Saturday Night Live, Bon Iver has annouced a seried of dates to occupy himself well into the spring, including his appearance at Coachella and numerous other festivals from New Zealand’s International Arts Festival to four different Scandinavian ones. Accompanying him and his band on his live dates are All Tiny Creatures, who are likely already good buddies with Justin Vernon since he done them some vocal duties on their 2010 song”An Iris.” Check out all the dates below:

02-27-28 Wellington, New Zealand -International Arts Festival
03-03 Perth, Australia – Red Hill Auditorium
03-06 Adelaide, Australia – Thebarton Theatre
03-08 Melbourne, Australia – Sidney Myer Music Bowl
03-10 Meredith, Australia – Meredith Supernatural Amphitheatre
03-11-13 Sydney, Australia – Sydney Opera House
03-15-17 Brisbane, Australia – Tivoli Theatre
04-12 Las Vegas, NV – The Joint *
04-14 Indio, CA – Coachella
04-17 Davis, CA – Freeborn Hall @ UC Davis *
04-19 San Francisco, CA – Bill Graham Civic Auditorium *
04-21 Indio, CA – Coachella
04-22 Santa Barbara, CA – Santa Barbara Bowl *
04-23 Tucson, AZ – AVA Amphitheater
04-27 New Orleans, LA – New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival
05-27 George, WA – Sasquatch Music Festival
07-07 Roskilde, Denmark – Roskilde Festival
08-08 Helsinki, Finland – Flow Festival
08-10 Goteborg, Sweden – Way Out West Festival
08-11 Oslo, Norway – Øya Festival

* with All Tiny Creatures

While many Fleet Foxes fans might still be reeling off the news that drummer/singer J. Tillman will be leaving the band, they (and anyone else, really) might be interested to hear a new cut from Tillman, who is releasing a new solo album this May (his fourth total) under the name Father John Misty, which will be called Fear Fun. Ahead of its release comes a video for the song “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings,” which features Parks and Recreation star Aubrey Plaza in the lead role. Watch her crash parties! Watch her eat flowers! And, watch her dance with a lamp! Check out the video and download the song below:

(Via Stereogum)

Coming together to create, what I can only imagine to be, an unstoppable force, Atlanta heavy-metal rockers Mastodon have come together with Swedish band Opeth to tour near-enough the whole world, stopping off at a few festivals along the way. They’ll both be joined by Ghost, a dark, but awesomely costumed band who also hail from Sweden. Catch them all at one of their many dates, displayed below, and expect a hell of a show.

Mastodon 2012 tour dates:

02-06 Manchester, England – Manchester Academy
02-07 Glasgow, Scotland – Barrowlands
02-09 Norwich, England – University of East Anglia
02-10 Birmingham, England – HMV Institute
02-11 London, England – O2 Academy Brixton
02-25 Brisbane, Australia – Soundwave Festival
02-26 Sydney, Australia – Soundwave Festival
02-27 Melbourne, Australia – Billboard
03-01 Sydney, Australia – The Hi-Fi
03-02 Melbourne, Australia – Soundwave Festival
03-03 Adelaide, Australia – Soundwave Festival
03-05 Perth, Australia – Soundwave Festival
04-04 Portland, ME – State Theater * #
04-05 Boston, MA – Orpheum Theater * !
04-06 Montreal, Quebec – Metropolis *!
04-07 Toronto, Ontario – Sony Centre * !
04-09 Philadelphia, PA – Electric Factory * #
04-10 Wallingford, CT – The Dome * #
04-11 New York, NY – Roseland Ballroom * #
04-13 Chicago, IL – Riviera Theatre * #
04-14 Grand Rapids, MI – The Intersection * #
04-15 Pittsburgh, PA – Stage AE * #
04-16 Knoxville, TN – TN Theater * !
04-18 Oklahoma City, OK – Diamond Ballroom * #
04-19 Dallas, TX – Palladium Ballroom * !
04-20 San Antonio, TX – Back Stage Live * !
04-21 Corpus Christi, TX – Concrete Street * !
04-23 Denver, CO – Fillmore Auditorium * !
04-25 Las Vegas, NV – House of Blues * #
04-26 Los Angeles, CA – Gibson Amphitheatre * !
04-27 Oakland, CA Fox Theatre * !
04-28 Reno, NV – Grand Sierra Resort * #
04-30 Seattle, WA – The Paramount * !
05-01 Vancouver, British Columbia – Orpheum Theatre * !
05-03 Edmonton, Alberta – Edmonton Events Center * !
05-04 Calgary, Alberta – MacEwan Hall * #
05-05 Saskatoon, Saskatchewan – The Odeon * !
05-06 Winnipeg, Manitoba – Burton Cummings Theatre * !
05-09 Washington, D.C. – The Fillmore * #
05-10 Charlotte, NC The Fillmore * #
05-11 Myrtle Beach, SC – House of Blues * #
05-12 Atlanta, GA – Masquerade Music Park * #

* with Opeth and Ghost
# Mastodon closes show
! Opeth closes show

New York band Guards have a warm heart that goes further than their peppy and pleasant song “Do It Again;” the video for the song is a touching tribute to Don Cornelius, creator of the famous musical variety show Soul Train who sadly passed away on the 1st of February. See numerous hipsters, a guy in a cape, and one long-haired masked fellow ride that train in the Kaylie Schiff-directed clip below. Plus, if you ever wondered what the band might look like if they were primarily a mariachi band, then your dream has come true. Watch it below or download the song here.

(Via Spin)

But what has always been an engaging feature of of Montreal’s music is Kevin Barnes’ display of real emotion, which is what makes Hissing Fauna so impressionable and lasting, as we hear Barnes narrate his breakdown and its outcome. One of the reasons the subsequent releases to it fell flat – or didn’t impress listeners as much – is that they never had a similar force behind them: Skeletal Lamping was too busy exploring sexual escapades to give any proper and thoughtful attention to Barnes’ emotional state, while False Priest was often too busy doing nothing, struggling to find a narrative of any kind to latch onto. With their latest album, Paralytic Stalks, Barnes once again makes his emotional state of mind the point of focus, generating tag-lines such as Barnes’ “most personal recording to date.”

Such descriptions are not too far flung from the truth; Paralytic Stalks has numerous moments where Barnes sounds like he’s about to or literally is losing it in the studio. The delivery of each chorus on “Spiteful Intervention” varies slightly, as Barnes’ voice teeters on breaking into some sort of delirium, while on “Wintered Debts” he’s hushed against a microphone, like he’s talking to himself in a dark room. But it’s on the album centrepiece “Ye, Renew the Plaintiff,” that the peak of all these emotions appears: he screams of dishing out revenge, but not doing so is “eating a hole” inside him. If you were ready to (or already have) dismissed Barnes as superficial, then it’s a song like this that’ll draw you back in, and make you realize that beneath all that mad alter ego stuff, Barnes is still a deeply conflicted and emotional guy, unafraid of displaying his extreme thoughts and feelings.

While these vocal performances may well be one of the main selling points of Paralytic Stalks, it thankfully isn’t the only one. Musically, Barnes is still creating songs that fuse together various ideas, but on this album they flow much better and, at the best of times, the end result sounds near enough dynamic. It’s amazing how swiftly “Spiteful Intervention” goes from brief moments of seemingly aimless babbling to an infectious and affecting chorus; and more amazing still is how it all sounds unified and necessary. At near enough nine minutes, “Ye, Renew the Plaintiff,” moves about plenty, but it feels like its own self-contained drama: starting off on some spiky and classic of Montreal guitar riffage, that aforementioned emotional peak appears and leads into a deserved psychedelic guitar solo before Barnes lowers the paces trying to explain the reason he’s so messed up (“I’ve inherited spiritual sanctions for some old ancestral crime”). It’s “Dour Percentage” that shines wonderfully though, with its glimmering ABBA-esque verses, unobtrusive brass section, and soaring coda where all the instruments (including stuttering guitars and flutes) come together to sing out the track. In terms of structure, it’s the only conventional “song” here, and that’s the reason it flows so seamlessly, never trailing off and returning to the song’s strengths over and over. It’s evidence that, when he wants to, Barnes can still write a great pop song to call his own.

Unfortunately these highlights are located on the first half of the album, and as “Wintered Debts” trails off into seemingly endless piano rippling half way through the song, it marks the starts of an elongated, self-indulgent and distinctly less appealing second half. “Exorcismic Breeding Knife” sounds like a dozen (mainly horror) film soundtracks aimlessly bleeding into one another, and while it might give the listener an idea of what the inside of Barnes’ head sounds like, it’s easy to deem pointless and, if it weren’t so harsh sounding, even innocuous. Closing song “Authentic Pyrrhic Remission” actually recalls False Priest closer “You Do Mutilate?” with its clunky piano chords and sassy vocal performance, but at 13 minutes is nearly twice the length. And unfortunately the majority of the song, like “Wintered Debts,” is spent going off of an instrumental tangent.

Another one of the downfalls is regarding the point I began with, in that it can be hard to follow Barnes’ trail of thought. When you’re able to latch onto what he’s singing about, like on “Ye, Renew the Plaintiff,” acoustic ditty “Malefic Dowery,” or the choruses of the better songs mentioned above, it can help make the song more involving, as there’s often the emotional pull to go with the musical hook. But, for a good proportion of the album, Barnes is trying to say too much for his songs, warbling away to himself, making the links between sections harder to follow. Much like he sings on “We Will Commit Wolf Murder,” “I tried to understand his logic / but there’s just no pattern there.”

At its best moments then, Paralytic Stalks can feel like of Montreal are once again a force to be reckoned with, and an album as emotionally involved as this may just have saved Barnes from being dismissed as someone playing out his decline. Instead it sounds like Barnes is once again working on an uphill struggle and even though it sounds like its taking a lot out of him – and even if there isn’t a greater high to be reached – Barnes has definitely taken a step in right direction. Let’s just hope it becomes a little easier to follow him and his music.

A new EP from San Francisco based Christopher Dexter Greenspan – more commonly known as oOoOO – is on its way. Come April 10th, Our Love Is Hurting Us will be with us via Tri Angle. The Our Love Is Hurting Us EP follows oOoOO’s self-titled EP from back in 2010, and this time round Greenspan has hooked up with Berlin based artist Butterclock for two tracks, one of which of which they wrote together and is available for download below, titled “NoWayBack.” Check out the tracklisting below, as well.

MP3:oOoOO – NoWayBack (Feat Butterclock)

Our Love Is Hurting Us EP:

01 TryTry
02 Springs [ft. Butterclock]
03 Starr
04 Break Yr Heart
05 NoWayBack [ft. Butterclock]

With the follow up to Black City announced for 2012 (entitled Beams), it’s fun to speculate as to where Dear might go exactly. Another album with a singular theme or feel throughout, or an album full of intertwining mismatching songs? If his latest EP, Headcage, is anything to go by, then your guess is as good as mine, really.

From the first track though, things definitely sound lighter, like a sunrise as opposed to the full mooned night sky of Black City. “Headcage” is a jittery and feverish track that does seem to have certain traits that could, perhaps, make it identifiable as a Matthew Dear song: synths that trickle up and down the register, fragments of Dear’s voice peppered here and there, strange and ambiguous lyrics sung in multitrack mode. It’s nothing dramatically different, but instead is more like Dear focusing himself to create a genuinely solid track (which is allowed to breathe more than before due to some helpful co-production from Van Rivers and the Subliminal Kid).

With Dear’s curious baritone now being a near enough permanent feature in his music, the arrival of Jonny Peirce (of The Drums) on “In The Middle ( I Met You There)” makes things open up even more. The loose, but strangely hypnotic feel of the track is carried wonderfully by Pierce’s sassy and higher voice, which is not only cut up and sprinkled around the track successfully by Dear like it’s his his own, but also sounds even better with Dear’s lower register behind it. Perhaps rather poignantly Pierce sings “You saved me from myself again,” making me think had he not been there, we would have been served a somewhat lackluster track by Dear.

What I do appreciate about Headcage as a whole is that Dear has tried to create something that flows. And, with that, the third track dials things back and slows down the pace. “Street Song” is a gloopy and aimless number that fails to imprint itself anywhere in your mind. I can imagine it being the sort of song Dear might have created to soundtrack driving through the city at night, under its repetitive orange streetlights, but it drags itself out too much, lasting just under four minutes. “Around A Fountain” attempts to bring the EP back to life, but, again, it doesn’t do much; lyrics that are hard to decipher are echoed from ear to ear, as a beat shuffles in and out of focus. If anything, it’s kind of like a spaced out version of the title track, but without any stylistic appeal.

Whether or not the tracks here are any indication as to what the music on Beams will be like is yet to be known, but even though Headcage has a pair of iffy tracks to weigh down two good – if not great – tracks, the whole EP sits in a generally favourable position in my view. While I can’t see myself making any sort of place for “Street Song” on my “All Time Favourite Matthew Dear Tracks,” I’m still slightly intrigued by it; the track sounds like it been taken out of another, perhaps more fitting context. This is just speculation though (and perhaps impatience too); where Dear’s music goes next is something only he knows.

The answer to that would have to be yes. Their music often goes for a dimly-lit type of intensity that tries to overstep the traditional workings of a pop song. Guitars snarl and are suitably textured in a way that suggests emotions like anxiety and sadness, while never taking unnecessary moments to go off on some wanky guitar solo. Lyrically the band seems to centre on using casual metaphors to address relatable situations, like a break up or loneliness in a big city. Hang on, doesn’t this all sound strangely familiar?

The answer to that would have to be yes. If you’ve ever listened to The National then you’ll swear you’re hearing a tribute band when listening to NO. It’s an easy – and flattering – but inevitable comparison to make. Melodies carefully tremble at the slowest moments and are brazen affairs when the pace ups itself; all they need are the baroque string arrangements from Padma Newsome and they’ve got all the pieces they need to become one of the most consistent American bands from the last decade! And if the musical comparison wasn’t enough, lead vocalist Bradley Hanan Carter then enters, sounding like a factory-built Matt Berninger double. But wait, aren’t you better actually just listening to The National?

The answer to that would have to be yes. While albums like Alligator and Boxer are masterful pieces of work, it takes time to write, record and release them, and that’s where NO come in useful. At a time when another album from The National is nowhere on the foreseeable horizon, a band that echo their best parts isn’t unwelcome as far as I’m aware. “Big Waves” might well start off with wide open guitar chords that are worryingly similar to “Mr November,” but instead they opt for a wordless chorus and put the emphasis on the song’s bridge, which sounds like it’s trying to dodge numerous melodies. Guitar textures contrast on “There’s A Glow” as they go from churning to glimmering in the space of a few seconds, while on opening track “Another Life” they ring alongside some distant brass instruments, creating a rallying chorus worthy to be called their own.

It sounds lazy to constantly compare NO to The National (and to make light of their name) but it’s the kind of comparison that’s hard to work past, especially when you can hear the band trying to create something as clever and as well-written. Too often though, they don’t quite get there, and for a good deal of the time Carter’s lyrics can be what holds them back. While Berninger’s lyrics retain a confusing ambiguity, they always seem to latch onto someone or something specific and make the ordinary sound devastatingly interesting (among other things). Carter, on the other hand, does come off as someone with stories to tell, but he sounds like he’s staying in the big picture, always talking unspecifically, if not singing in strange parables (“Welcome to the storm / We’re babies ‘til we’re born / And then adults ‘til the first day breathing”).

And that’s fine, as demonstrated on “Another Life,” where he goes through the motions of a break-up and the consequences it has on one’s social life (“No awkward invitations / we’d just invite them all”). It helps that he sells a line like “I’ll pretend that I don’t think of you,” making it their strongest song here. At the other end of the EP there’s “Stay With Me,” where he makes his grandest gesture, climaxing to an anthemic sing along: “Stay with me / We were never meant to be apart.” It’s the kind of chorus that could so easily find itself being sung by a hoard of post-Coldplay fans, which is a promising image for the band – it’s just a shame it’s such a bland sentiment.

But with a strong start, the rest of the EP comes off well; even though the other songs aren’t quite as good as “Another Life” they’re still rousing enough to keep your attention fixed for twenty minutes or so. They even try mixing things up on “Coming Down” with fluttering robotic drums, where Carter’s voices also gets a synthetic edge. It’s an admirable step outside the sound of everything else here, but it’s also a bit of a dud and it’s unfortunately the low point of the EP – but thankfully the shortest track. Is it a case then, that sounding like The National, is what NO do best?

The answer to that would have to be yes.

But not all films are Juno and aren’t likely to gain the same kind of cult status both the film and the soundtrack have. Enter Norman, and it’s Andrew Bird soundtrack, a limited release film about a young and troubled individual falling in love during life’s hard-hitting turmoil, as underrated indie violin hero Andrew Bird creates music to accompany him.

There’s no point in being dishonest; I’ve not seen the film (mainly due to its being on limited release on another continent) but many music fans (myself included) seem to putting their attention to the soundtrack due to the fact that’s been written by Bird. As a musician, Bird’s no stranger to instrumentals (his last album, Useless Creatures, was filled with them), but his work on this soundtrack is more intriguing than usual as it has me wondering how the creation came about.

At times I can imagine Bird standing in a room creating music spontaneously as he watches the film, such as the high shrieks on “Nice Hat / Exit Sign / Angelo Speaks” or the rambling guitar melody on “The Bridge,” which gradually builds itself up with numerous violin streaks. Elsewhere the music often takes sudden turns or dramatic shifts, altering the tones with only a few seconds notice. It’s on track like “Scotch and Milk” or “Afterspeak / Things Come to a Head” that match this description, that it feels easier to imagine Bird working to a director’s notes on how the mood of the piece should be and what the music should help accentuate (if anything).

And, as I said, it’s intriguing to hear Bird work in this domain but it does often feel like the best of his work is being compressed and condensed. Obviously one has to take into account that this is a film soundtrack first and a collection of original compositions second, but there are times when listening to the music Bird has created and feeling as though it could be something a whole lot more. One of the strengths of Useless Creatures and of Bird’s fantastic live shows is that he opens up his songs, allowing each sound and layer to breathe and come together at its own pace. Here, on the soundtrack, it rarely taps into the wonderful quality.

Still, it’s not at all unpleasant – Bird fans will still find plenty of interest here. Fans of his instrumental work will enjoy the best of it: the slow groans and yawns of “Hospital” and the almost regal sweeps of “3:36.” Those who are fonder of his lyrical wordplay won’t be too disappointed by the pair of original tracks that, perhaps for the first time in Bird’s history, have the theme of love as a centre point. “Arc and Coulombs” has all the elements of a light acoustic Bird track (breezy whistling, glockenspiel, acoustic strums) that goes from a nautical references to “Go ahead boy / do some something dumb / there’s no shame,” all in the space of two minutes. “Night Sky,” another acoustic ballad, is a tad more interesting as it ponders “What if we hadn’t been born at the same time? / What if you were seventy-five and I was nine?” It’s interesting to see Bird tread into territory full of plenty of potential sentimentality and still remain clever and insightful throughout, showing his worth is well beyond complex wordplay and that he’s capable of creating more human and touching moments. There’s also a few examples to show Bird can work in the absence of a pleasant melody, experimenting (to some success) with screeching distortion (“Build Up to the Fall”) and darker tones (“Cancerboy Strikes Again / Monsterstream”).

The three other tracks on the soundtrack that don’t have Bird’s name beside them also help proceedings along and shoot some life into the surrounding instrumentals. “Rabid Bits of Time” by Chad Vangaalen isn’t actually too far off a Bird track itself, mainly due to Vangaalen’s voice which, though a bit higher and more ready to crack than Bird’s, has a definite similarity. The redux of Wolf Parade’s “You Are A Runner And I Am My Father’s Son” (quite likely another point of interest for passing music fans) turns out to sound more like one of Spencer Krug’s Moonface tracks combined with the dying embers of one of Wolf Parade’s last practice sessions than something by the full band. To an outsider these two tracks though do seem to hit the subject matter of the film on the head and while their presence is most welcome (especially the latter), they remove any sort of subtly the instrumental tracks around them might create.

But I can’t make an entirely valid judgement, since I haven’t seen the film. It’s easy to picture the sort of thing that might be happening when the music is playing but the strength of Bird’s compositions is that they never really give anything specific away (not even when he’s singing). While I can’t foresee Norman becoming the next Juno (at least not until it gets a much wider release) in terms of cult status, the soundtrack can at least be added to Bird’s back catalogue, hopefully as he takes another step somewhere more melodic and memorable than his work for the big screen.

This seven song album (which feels more like an EP for its brevity) follows on from the idea behind his 2009 Found Songs EP in which Arnalds composed, recorded and released a track every day for a week. It was an admirable concept that was pulled off about as well as could be expected and took advantage of the way in which music can so quickly be recorded and given to the listener. Living Room Songs takes the concept of a song a day for each day of the week and, true to its title, moves the proceedings into Arnalds’ own living room.

The other difference this time is that each song was recorded live and a video of it was posted each day, along with a free download of the song. And, I suppose, that element makes just listening to the music feel like it’s missing a counterpart. Those curious will be happy to know the videos do help make the music’s recorded origins more transparent (for example, the microphone set-up on “Tomorrow’s Song” reveals why you hear so much creaking from the piano) but they also feel kind of pointless. Sure, it’s nice to see Arnalds play with a string quartet in his own living room, while also being able to just see his living room (I’d have thought he’d own more records), but, at the same time, did we really need to see it? The intimate appeal is obvious but it only seeks to add that bit of personalization to something he could have recorded in any small room. Plus, the word “living” seems to drop out of the picture since during the recordings everything looks tense and cold. On the video for the final track, “This Place Is a Shelter,” Arnalds gathers what appears to be all his friends and family to enjoy a performance but they all look so nervous and unhappy, like they’d rather just stand, socialize and drink instead of sitting there as quiet as possible while the cameras roll.

And the transparency isn’t a great thing either as it tends to reveal what appears to be a lack of grand aspiration. I concede intimacy might be a key player here but if I had fourteen string players in my front room I can’t help but think I’d get them to do more than peacefully play out a piano composition in ninety seconds like they do on “Lag fyrir Ömmu.”

Like this fourteen-person-strong moment, the best moments on Living Room Songs are equally fleeting. The skittering beats and icy keyboard on “Near Light” help flesh out the track but there’s nothing else like this on the album so it can feel like a bit of a sore thumb amidst everything else (albeit a rather beautiful sore thumb). The intimacy does play well for nuance in the music but again this is often only brief, like the way the first strings are played on opening track “Fyrsta” or the way the almost saddening string melody juxtaposes the piano chords that briefly swell on “This Place is A Shelter.”

Apart from the aptly titled “Film Credits,” which, worthily, plays much like a ode to Max Richter, the music on the remainder of the album is left to unsatisfying and grey piano suites that don’t sound destined for a more open setting nor benefit from the intimate setting of Arnalds’ own living room (the creaks on the aforementioned track “Tomorrow’s Song” are more memorable than the music itself). While it’s interesting to see the place where Arnalds may have come up and composed some of his better tracks, sometimes, it seems, it’s better not to take your work home with you.

Following the first single, “On Through The Dark,” which was released a couple of weeks ago (and premiered by our good selves), James Cooley, aka Mesita, has released the second song from his next album. The song’s called “The Coyotes” and the album, which should be with us sometime early next year, is to be the non-pluralised version of that: The Coyote.

Fitting in with the wintry images now covering Mesita’s website, the song’s a bit more of a colder affair compared to his sunnier moments from his past releases but there’s still a very worthy driving force behind it. Check it out and download it below.

Mesita – “The Coyotes”

Relatively hot on the heels on his superb 2010 album Black City, Matthew Dear has announced the follow-up to it will be titled Beams and will have an EP preceding its release. Not a great deal of light has been shed about Beams, other than it’s called Beams and will be with us some time in new year, but there’s plenty of details about the EP, titled Headcage. It’s a four song affair, featuring a collaboration with The Drums member Jonny Pierce and production credits from Van Rivers and The Subliminal Kid, who have previously worked with Blonde Redhead, Glasser and Fever Ray. It’ll be released digitally on Ghostly International come January 17th, so there’s not long to wait, but if you need something to satisfy your appetite until then, check out the title track below (which can be also downloaded for free), along with a bright and somewhat disorientating teaser video and the EP artwork.

Matthew Dear – “Headcage”

My exploration brought me face to face with a generous sleuth of artists and albums to explore. I recall falling for Sigur Rós’ often forgotten debut album Von and its unsettling ten minute opening track, even playing it as loud as I could to freak out my family (they managed, as always, to ignore it, much like everything else I played). I remember buying the Robert Rich/B. Lustmord album Stalker just for its description on Amazon alone. Heck, I think the only reason I ever got into The Knife was because descriptions of the band’s brilliant album Silent Shout were littered with words like “creepy,” “menacing” and as something that would “scare the abject shit out of you.” And then I read about Scott Walker’s album The Drift. Listening to it changed the game for me, as it introduced me to music that wasn’t intentionally scary, but instead frightening as a consequence of the challenging and beguiling material it covered. And perhaps I got a little too obsessed with it (and listened to it more often than any human should) but I never thought anything would top the astounding experience listening to The Drift still brought me during those first few spins.

And then sometime earlier this year I read this very enticing and strangely vague review of the self-titled record from Giles Corey (aka Daniel Barrett). Descriptions of it being unsettling and even causing sleepless nights instantly pricked up my ears, but it seemed to be something much, much more than just another “scary” album to add to my library and to weird out my friends with. Behind the almost entirely black cover (almost black like the cover of The Drift, it might be said) and behind any mystery the author of the above article created was a heart-wrenching story.

Giles Corey isn’t an attempt to find solace; it’s an attempt to find some sort of answer or a kind of understanding. At some point during the spring of 2009, Daniel Barrett tried to kill himself. “…I found myself in the kitchen, a knife to my chest. Wailing, screaming, and crying” he recalls, almost confused and numbed by the experience. But the shadow that engulfed him more than ever at this moment lifted enough for him to throw the knife into the wall, where he left it for weeks. His life was spared but his destiny was set: “I had already decided that my life was not worth living, and so the depression manifested itself as a question: If I did not wish to be alive, did I wish to be dead?” This album has Barrett trying to find an answer to that question.

When you first properly engage with the material of that makes up Giles Corey (a nine-track album and a 150-page book), it’s severely personal subject matter can easily make you feel uncomfortable. This is very heady stuff but that’s not because of wildly ambiguous and diverse references but rather because of how deeply personal and – perhaps most importantly – how human it all feels. Barrett’s journey through his depression is explained in the book which helps shed light on the sounds you hear on the album, giving each other context; the book feels like the calmer and thorough version of the agitated and ferocious lyrical content in the music while the album acts as a sort of release for the unanswerable questions posed in the text.

It sounds tedious but I don’t want to go into the story too much. This is Barrett’s own fiercely personal recounting of the last few years of his life, of his desire to find answers to questions that put him on the edge. His story isn’t mine to tell; I can only relate to you how I experienced it. When I first received the album in the post I was intrigued, but I never made the immediate action of listening to the album and reading the book. I knew this was going to be challenging and weighty to stuff to engage with and my own personal turmoil made me put Giles Corey aside for months. It wasn’t until I found myself in my own spiraling depression that I decided to read the book, in an attempt to find something or someone to relate to. I was awake early one morning and went into my living room, took it off the shelf where it sat for so long, and read it. Within minutes and the first few pages I was in tears, which continued long after I finished reading it, as a strange fear crawled over every piece of my skin. As I said, I don’t want to go into the contents of the book but its words and its emotional pull seeped into my veins, turning my blood cold and raising every hair on my body.

Amidst all the other emotions, I was terrified. When I played the CD (which was weeks after first reading the book) I pressed play with trepidation. Before I started listening I had some idea as to what to expect, mainly due to the review I cited above. Not wanting to sound too cliché again, but no words or descriptions will really, properly, fully prepare you for the sheer heart-wrenching emotional pull that these tracks have. The music goes from honest and pessimistic acoustic ballads to full on orchestrated despair. Guitar strings tremble, piano keys reverberate into empty space, voices echo almost aimlessly at times. If I was trying to satisfy that curious “scary music” loving part of me, then I well and truly found the perfect thing.

But it’s when all the emotions, all the fury, all the… well, everything; it’s when everything swells up and unleashes a huge barrage of noise that the album really, and I mean really, hits you. The two most notable instances of this are on the opening track “The Haunting Presence” and the late-blooming centrepiece “No One Is Ever Going To Want Me.” On the former of those, Barrett goes from a whisper to a multitude of screams in what feels like a second, like he’s calling out to the spirits of the dead or just anybody who might hear him and be able to help him. My eyes well up every single time it happens. Though less (ahem) haunting, the effect on “No One Is Ever Going To Want Me” is just as moving and chilling, if not more. After letting the listener settle into a shuffling acoustic mid-section, Barrett once again lets rip with a noise that has the ability to knock you off your feet. In it, Barrett sings “I want to feel like I feel when I’m asleep” which, in itself, portrays the desire to want to rid oneself of living. It soon accumulates to Barrett repeating the phrase “I wanna feel” over and over, as if he’s lost the ability to, before screaming the word “sleep,” like he’s pleading to his insomniac mind to rest so he can escape the horror of the depression he feels when awake.

There are many other great moments though; I could mention “Spectral Bride” which sounds like a series of traditional gospel songs reworked, the affecting vocal hook of “Grave Filled With Books,” or the dizzying and demented brass of “Buried Above Ground.” But as much as I try to tell anyone about this or describe this album in words, I feel like I’m giving away the story while also doing it no justice whatsoever. Every word, every strum and every echo of loneliness and despair becomes even more loaded when they are given the context the book brings.

Yet, I know that I’m always going to falter when trying to get the significance, the effect and the importance of this album across to you or anyone else. Like all brilliant records, Giles Corey needs to be heard to be understood. Some might accuse me of being terribly and frustratingly banal in the way I place this “mysterious” album on a pedestal, not really saying anything in particular about it but only how it affected me. And if so, I’ll occupy that clichéd space, if only to uphold how special I think Giles Corey is. And, I concede that this work may not be for everyone. For some it will simply be too much, while it may well hit too close to home for others who may have found themselves in a similar position to Barrett. And to others, the whole experience might just be too scary. In all honesty, I’m as pathetic as it comes and won’t even play the album when the sun goes down, nor read the book while the music is playing. In fact I haven’t even read the book in its entirety since that first time; the thought of it is just too much for me. But the music I love, and it will stay will me forever. But it’s not haunting me, it feels like it part of my own emotional state. Much like that above review by Kyle Phelps points out, Barrett’s suicide note becomes your own. If that is to be my fate, then I would be more than happy to have one as terrifyingly beautiful as this.

Think of the phrase “The Willow & The Builder” and you’re most likely going to come across pictures of those drooping, weeping trees and, well, builders. It doesn’t sound like the most exciting combination of words but surprisingly the duo – Richard Miron and Adrian Simon – manage to get plenty of material out of it without ever sounding like they’re clutching at straws. Were it not for their chipper arrangements and friendly Glee-like voices, they might sound like they take it too far at times. “A Vast Emptiness” sounds like the prelude to an epic Disney song (and even hits a few piano chords that sounds achingly similar to “A Whole New World”), with its storybook tale of the willow tree that goes from being a child’s favourite place to visit to the wood for a fire. It’s cheesy but it’s also pulled off with a charm that’ll have even the Scroogiest of music listeners coming over to its side.

And “A Vast Emptiness” isn’t the only track that sounds like it wouldn’t be out of place in a Disney movie – which is no bad thing (I mean, when’s the last time we had a Disney movie that had great songs like “Hakuna Matata” or “Prince Ali”? And no, none of the High School Musical movies count). Bustling opening track “Teahouse Treehouse” boasts an infectious chorus that you’ll submit to after a couple of listens while also being a perfect introduction to the lively enthusiastic sound the album carries on with until the closing moments. These guys sound like they are the kind of people who would actually make a treehouse full of “playing cards / And jars of jelly-beans / And candles all aglow” and invite you into it without any weird George Harvey vibes seeping through. Come to think about it, even the “The Willow & The Builder” sounds like a left-over script left from the Disney studios. Once you’re able to match the title with the upbeat sound the band creates, it’s a little easier to imagine how they saw beyond the initial limitations the phrase seems to have.

But the music does go beyond sounding like a Disney soundtrack: “Oh Willow! (Why Wallow?),” with its mention of a winter wonderland and plinky piano melody, could easily find a place on your next Christmas mix; the shrill choir and major chords on “Rosaline” give it a welcome gospel sound while the flute flutters on “Cut It Down” bring to mind the orchestration of Sufjan Stevens before the track lets rip for a two minute crescendo that I want to say is cathartic, but then I remember this album is about trees. Still, it feels genuine, and the earnestness of tracks like “Cut It Down” and “Heartache” help sell it.

There a few moments when the material doesn’t hit you quite as well as the better and more infectious ones like “Teahouse Treehouse” and “Heartache.” “Mansion Man” is a much needed respite from the fanfare surrounding it but it never seems to get itself off the ground. “What’s Next” on the other hand gets itself to a choral climax from a Death Cab For Cutie-like guitar chug without making the journey there particularly memorable. And while I don’t want to dispel the charm the duo create, there’s definitely some people that may well find their sugary sound a little too sweet and their almost childish fascination a little too smarmy. But even the sweetest sentiments never feel saccharin, nor do the most upbeat moments feel smug. And it would be very easy to sound smug when you’ve built a goddamn treehouse.

Much like the prominent colours on the cover, the majority of the songs here seem washed over with cold synths, which can go from sounding like freezing winds on a dark night (“The Sound of Silence”) to the downcast gloominess of a late autumn afternoon (“Nights”). And this consistency makes the album feel like more of a whole, even if that whole is a rather saddening one. The duo of opening tracks, “Another Heaven” and “Humdrum,” feels more like an introduction to Pallers’ downcast world than any sort of brash opening statement. The former of those tracks almost teases the ear with light melodies that skirt about in the opening minute, before vocalist Johan Angergård comes into the picture and wipes them all away, leaving him with just silence, like’s he clearing away any distractions to just try make sense of his thoughts.

And Angergård’s lyrical style doesn’t stray much from this sort of close introspection – but if it does, he’s still fixated by the past. On album centrepiece “The Kiss” the subject is matter is much as the title suggests and has Angergård quietly obsessing over a kiss that might actually have not really been a kiss. “If it wasn’t a kiss / then I don’t know what it was” he sings. There’s a moment where he repeats the last three words in an almost desolate manner but by the time the next line comes around his voice has lifted like it’s both trying to be optimistic and sing through tears. It’s an easy comparison but Angergård can come across as clearer and, at times, lighter version of Johan Duncanson of The Radio Dept.; similarly using past memories as a source to feed off of, creating, if anything, his own lyrical jungle to get lost in (perhaps in a somewhat cathartic sense, to feel better about everything he might be singing about).

But despite its languid gloominess, the duo still have plenty to offer that has more appeal than just being something to lounge about in when in a low mood. The low-light warmth of “Years Go, Days Pass” offers a hazy chorus but it’s still appealing while “Come Rain, Come Sunshine” seems to even break free from the icy reigns of its surroundings with a chirpy Nintendo-like synth line and hopeful slow-burning vocal melodies. Aforementioned track “The Kiss” also puts itself into a warmer light about half way through when the additional drums kick in and a guitar line adds an additional human touch to the song. The most shocking track though (and I use the term “shocking” with some exaggeration) is the penultimate one, entitled “Wicked.” On it, Angergård casts himself to the side and instead vocal duties are taken on by welcome guest Elise Zalbo, who both manages to fit in perfectly to the cold synths and break free from the constraints they might hold. “I don’t care about getting sunlight” she sings, determined to rise above any sadness on even the darkest winter night. Musically the track is also somewhat daring, teasing with trance-like bursts of energy.

Moments like “Wicked” are ones that make Pallers a promising act, hinting at possible stylistic ventures for the future. The murky cinematic ambience of “Sound of Silence” makes it easy to imagine the band working on film soundtracks (or just making an eerie ambient record) while the brief chirpy melodies on “Tropical Fishbowl” show the band can make something relatively interesting with live instruments.

If they do, however, continue on the same path they’ve explored on The Sea of Memories, it doesn’t make for an unpromising future. Despite its melancholic vibe, the album is strangely alluring. I like to think of it as the negative to the opposingly sunnier album The Heart of The Nightlife by Californian duo Kisses, but it could be contrasted or compared to any other Balearic acts that might or might not have come from Scandinavia. While I might have made the album out to be something near enough depressing, The Sea of Memories isn’t a “sad” album in the typical sense. It’s the kind of record best fitted for when you’re unsure as to what to listen to or when you’ve got an autumn or winter evening to yourself. Sometimes it’s just nice to sit, think and even reminisce. But be careful you don’t get too sucked into your own memories – it can be a jungle in there.

Enter Case Studies, the solo project of Jesse Lortz who is most famous as one half of The Duchess and The Duke. First impressions will likely have many reaching for their big unspecific “folk music” tags but a little consideration reveals his album, The World Is Just A Shape To Fill The Night, as something much more. It’s easy to want to reach for the “doom folk” tag to narrow things down a bit more but not only are there no origins from metal here, nor is the whole thing seeped in a relentlessly bleak sound. In fact the overall sound can be downright chipper at times, recalling sprightly acts like Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Guitars jangle, piano keys ripple like they’ve been recorded from a jaunty saloon session while vocals harmonise and lift the spirit of everything around.

And these elements would add to equate something welcome enough to play out the summer months if it wasn’t for one simple fact: Lortz is depressed as fuck about the world. His cynical and gloomy outlook has him singing of faces begging for the dagger in his hand and the possibility of death being an accident, like it’s all he can see around him. Straight from the first track, “From The Blade Of My Love,” things seem hopeless. In Lortz’s world love isn’t something that will bring light to the darkness but instead something that will destroy everything good about another person. “I’m ashamed of the wounds I have opened with the blade of my love” he sings with what sounds like genuine regret.

The intriguing and strange point of the record though is the juxtaposition. Chords might stay in minor keys but the aforementioned vocal harmonies tend to be the thing that lifts the music out of the dark recesses of Lortz’s mind and, for the majority of the tracks here, create genuinely pleasing hooks. “You Folded Up My Blanket Like We Were Already Lovers” offers the memory of being “a long, long, long, long, long, long way from home” in its infectious chorus as a double bass bounces back and forth. It’s easy to imagine the song making its way onto radio were it not for the skewed first line where he recalls “You lifted up your skirt and took a piss right in the street.” While “Dagger” and “Lies” might have rather morbid and depressing hooks they still wriggle their way into your head while the heavy up-front jangle of “Animals” and “Secrets” practically demand you to open your memory to them, especially the latter when Lortz snarls the album’s title as part of the lyrics.

Elsewhere the appealing hooks are a little more subtle but just as pleasing to the ear and come in the form of the emerging vocal harmonies. On his own Lortz is appealing and comparisons to Bill Callahan aren’t too far off, but he seems less intent on the idea of negative space and instead brings forth his songs straight up, ready for you to welcome them at your own will. But when he has a group of females singing behind him the appealing effect can increase greatly. On “The Eagle, or The Serpent” voices swirl about him like ghosts in a graveyard before accumulating to an almost dizzying final section which increases the tension with just the addition of a simple drum beat. On “Texas Ghost Story” and “My Silver Hand” he uses much the same idea although with a lighter atmosphere around him, creating something of an optimistic tone on the latter track. “Texas Ghost Story” is probably the best example of how effective and redeeming the backing vocals can be as he concludes the track by openly begging for the character in the song to “take me with you when you go.”

And Lortz does have hope in his words, his voice and his music. Even though he might sound impossibly bleak at times (the almost hopelessly gloomy “California Ghost Story” for instance), it sounds purposeful. As much as he sounds like he’s been hurt and threatened (or threatened others), the overcast feel of the songs sound like a way to work past all of it. On “You Folded Up My Blanket” he seems to take a moment out to recall a genuinely happy moment in his life when he spent some quality time with someone whose company he enjoyed, without actually being in love; while on “My Silver Hand” he concludes that even though the relationship was a failure, without it he’d have “no songs about remembrance, no songs about forgiveness, no songs of me and you.” Sometimes a dark period in life can lead to lighter time. Sometimes that light at the end of the tunnel isn’t that of an oncoming train.

And it makes for refreshing listening at the best of times. Aforementioned opening track “Heavy Tonight” is a good example as it goes from an opening burst of drums to chugging guitars to a lazy droning final section. It doesn’t sound much,with an admittedly lacklustre description like that, but the real energy in the song comes from the way everything compresses together to create a tight and almost compacted sound. “Summer Fun” is perhaps a better example as guitars intertwine in a way that makes the melody sound both complex and breezy. And hey, there’s a healthy dose of handclapping too.

With its upbeat tones “Summer Fun” will likely be the first thing to get stuck in a listener’s head, but the most rewarding songs are those with a sharper edge. And this comes mainly from frontman Dave Walter who can put an effective snarl into his voice when the moment takes him. Though pretty much every lyric he sings is impenetrable, his presence is still a much-needed weight for the songs here. Recalling a snider version of The Big Pink’s vocalist Robbie Furze, his range is admirable, especially when he lets his voice soar on album highlight “Deep Witness.” The track’s gradual build once again has the band working almost seamlessly together to create a strange sort of tension between choruses that seems to loosen the grip of the song rather than tighten it, all while keeping you enclosed in the song’s parameters.

The thread that seems to hold the album together though is an almost pregnant drone that immediately recalls the opening hum of “Twenty Eight” by Why?. It’s cool when you listen out for it and realise how much it crops up both in between songs and in the middle of others, but the sound also wears thin after a while (and also makes me wonder why I haven’t listened to Alopecia in so long). Visits also suffers from being a little front heavy, offering the majority of its best and most memorable moments in the first half. Tracks like “Arrows Underwater” and “Yung Jun” do stick to the formula that the rest of the songs have, but don’t quite hit the same highs, making for a second half that can drag at the worst of times. Closing track “Frost Meter” thankfully lifts things up again with a slow and steady build, with melodies that sound like the band are trying something a little different. And even though that familiar drone does once again come into play on the last track, it sounds different, like it’s bloated and has worn itself out. And in the last thirty seconds of “Frost Meter,” once the drone has disappeared, the band’s other melodies seem to unravel like their life force has been taken away. It makes you wonder that if it was really that one prolonged tone that was keeping the band together throughout the album’s runtime. Who knows, but it’ll be interesting to see what else Tammar can shoot life into.

Still, there’s still plenty of room for subtlety. For every moment when the music is loud and piercing (listening on a set of speakers instead of headphones is recommended), there’s always plenty going on in the background. The icy choral synths on opening track “Opium” help drive the song forward but are easy to miss with the chugging bass and sparkling keys taking most of your attention until Kunkel’s wordless high wail comes back into the picture, before almost dissolving itself into the music around; the way the club-ready beats emerge on “Memento”; the nimble guitar work on “Saturday Night.” Other times the most obvious things can just seem to go right by you like the sleek bass on “Hearts For Sale” or the guitar riff at the start of “Sense.”

All this makes for impressionable stuff, and when everything slips into place and creates a sort of immediate dynamism, it can feel worth writing home about. The album creates a good first impression with “Opium” where the full effect of the band crashes into the picture from a set of woozy synths that linger throughout the song. But once the fire’s been ignited it keeps burning, only made fiercer when Kunkel goes up an octave on his second chorus. “Shallow Play” follows and again shows of Kunkel’s range but doesn’t excite or enthrall quite as much as the previous track.

The best stuff, however, is huddled away on the second half of the album. First single “True Lies” groans and clatters, matching the honest sadness of the lyrics where Kunkel seems to struggle with the power balance of a relationship, all leading to a coo where he proclaims “I can’t trust you” in his highest register. “Hearts For Sale” has that aforementioned slinky bass line that slips perfectly in between the shuffling beat before the band put forth one of their best choruses where Kunkel sounds despondent, like the music and lyrics are casting a gloomy cloud over him. The real highlight though is “Memento,” where the band spread themselves out over nine minutes. The song begins normally enough – tense vocals and matching music that fidgets and glistens in the background – but before long it transforms into another creature – or rather creatures. A third of the way through it begins to cave in before swelling with an onslaught of guitar and processed vocals, the dying embers of which leave a club-ready beat that is soon joined by a frustrated and funky guitar riff. When the comedown arrives towards the end of the track it’s easy to just want things to start up again, and frankly if they had doubled the track length I wouldn’t have minded, but it’s fun to imagine them really letting this song breathe on stage.

Since all these highlights are located on the latter half of the album (or right at the beginning in the case of “Opium”), the album does have its lulls where the noise and enthusiasm are present but the hooks aren’t. Minute-long instrumentals like “LA Noire” and “Shadows” make for a welcome break from the full songs surrounding them but don’t really do much when your attention has already drifted away. “Munich” has the band at what might be considered it’s poppiest, where guitars chug like and drums thunder like on any popular emo-rock song. It’s kind of fun and a nice burst of energy but at the same time a rather vapid and cheesy. “Soft” I have more of a (ahem) soft spot for as it makes for a good middle ground for lacklustre material that precedes it and the stronger stuff that follows, all while Kunkel sounds both nostalgic and like he’s finally getting somewhere with his problems (“I had it all figured out”).

For an album that seems to play about with a lot of dark themes and topics (drugs, death, broken relationships), Shadows ends on a rather carefree note with “Saturday Night.” “When should the sun go down on a Saturday Night?” Kunkel questions like he’s addressing a crowd of dancers in a packed club, which is strange considering the album is masked in noticeably dark feel that seems miles away from anything resembling sunshine. And at the same time it sort of dispels all the nervous and insomniac worry that the album’s lyrical matter seems to address, passing it off as a series of exploits from another weekend. I guess that’s how the journey is though; the highs received from drugs, alcohol and sex are to be followed with their lows, which is quite often how Shadows seems to play out. Come the end though, they’re ready to hit the floor once again or, even more aspiringly, to be the ones providing the soundtrack for all the ravers. One thing’s for sure though, they’ve got plenty of material to pump out of the speakers.