From the horses jowls, judge, I damn well hurd Orville Peck neigh and burr it himself, I swears on it!: “Psychedelic outlaw cowboy croons love and loss from the badlands of North America.”
Category: Album Impressions
Bottle It In: Kurt Vile tours his back-alley kingdom
Kurt Vile, a vinyl-pressed halo, what a dude, what a goober, he’s a street angel, probably spent his early day hustling the corners, scouting for the best street angles.
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Post-Earth: FEELS better, FEELS good
The phenomenal instrumentation and musicianship plays into a Bangsian motto of “the grimier, the rockier, the better” and they make that idiomatic approach tick on the every part of their sophomore effort while still allowing for more long-form melodic, harmonic and rhythmic skill.
Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost: Foals slick up a slice of progressive dance rock
The onward trajectory of the majority of the track-list sets Foals as prime contrarians dismissing the invalidity of linear progress; Foals have found a sonic trajectory and manipulated it to practical perfection.
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Outer Peace: Quick like silver
Outer Peace is not so much a record as a thirty minute DJ set—nothing makes it past four minutes, everything ephemeral, a slinking sleuthing swirling spinning series of singles that lock together like a jigsaw puzzle yet flow like a stutter-step butterfly flight.
A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships: So good, The 1975 are infuriating
You have no idea how ready I was to destroy this record.
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Black Fingernails, Red Wine: Made Me All Mine
Self-love is my greatest struggle, by virtue of an extreme aversion to any patterned pitfalls of narcissistic behavior that, inevitably, a person will fall into, but an imbalance on the bell curve of the spectrum meets at the point of insidiousness: believe too strongly in yourself and risk perspective, criticize yourself too thoroughly and risk pleasure.
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