Nap Eyes
Thought Rock Fish Scale
[Paradise of Bachelors]
This Canadian indie troupe have delivered something special and seemingly timeless on their second full length, Thought Rock Fish Scale, a record rich in tone, timbre and hidden depths. Reminiscent of the quasi-mystical folk’n’roll alchemy of the third Velvet Underground record, these songs are of the rare breed that turn more technicolor the quieter they get, the more inward looking they are, the more lackadaisical in delivery they become. Forlorn ennui-pop at it’s absolute finest, highly recommend. – Danny Wilson
KING
We are KING
[KING Creative]
The capitalisation alone might carry the threat of pomposity, but KING’s long-in-the-works debut album conjures up only the most artful braggadocio. On songs like The Greatest, the trio always manages to exude laid-back optimism rather than boastfulness. Not that they couldn’t brag about what is a beautifully layered and well-constructed record: chiptunes, horn sections and three-part harmonies all manage to find their place, without the sound ever feeling overstuffed. And I, for one, welcome our new musical overlords. – Leo Devlin
Eleanor Friedberger
New View
[Frenchkiss]
As an artist known for her lyrical ingenuity and knotty instrumentation, Eleanor Friedberger’s new release is audaciously straightforward. Her previous albums have been exemplary of her considerable skill in layering complexity over a simple structural base, but New View offers a notably less ornamented take on her songwriting. What’s lost in playful excitability, though, is made up for with considered nuance. Floating through the air can offer a novel view, but sometimes groundedness offers a new perspective all of its own. –Leo Devlin
Charles Lloyd & the Marvells
I Long to See You
[Blue Note]
New jazz releases have left me spoiled for choice. Like a kid in a candy store, I don’t know which way to turn. But, after only one listen to I Long to See You, I knew I had found the perfect choice. This is the debut album of a band founded by esteemed saxophonist and composer Charles Lloyd, featuring Bill Frisell, Greg Leisz, Reuben Rogers and Eric Harland *and* there’s a vocal by Norah Jones that will leave you checking for your pulse. –Tom Cahill
Hazing
Joy Void EP
[Happy Valley Records]
Joy Void is an extremely brief introduction to Hazing, which is presented, suitably for its dedication to lo-fi electronica, on cassette. Chiming guitars and the vaguely Barney Sumner-ish vocals haunt over minimal boom-boom-chk drum machines, but rather than the clarity and precision of New Order, Nervous Signals and What Youth – the keepers here – are filtered through the distortions of John Maus and Grouper. – Ian Lamont
Solar Bears
Advancement
[Sunday Best]
Advancement moves away from a vague modern trend towards analogue synths and the intangible warmth of wires and knobs, for something more glitchy and computer-bound, something that feels pored over rather than jammed out. Not surprisingly the records backstory backs this up, as the duo focused on sampling and manipulation and degradation of sounds to create this dense digiscape. Conversely, despite perceived futurist intentions, these soundtracks can’t help but recall the ’90s electronica like Boards of Canada – no bad thing at all, it should be said.
– Ian Lamont
Matmos
Ultimate Care II
[Thrill Jockey]
“Wasn’t this already the premise of one of their albums?” was my initial thought upon reading that Ultimate Care II was composed entirely from edited and mutated samples of sounds made from the sounds of a Whirlpool Ultimate Care II. The question that lingers after listening is whether or not knowing this matters at all. My hunch is that it doesn’t require any such apologia, such is Schmidt and Daniels’ remarkable dexterity in this field of composition with concrete sounds. That said, around the 27 to 30 minute mark, you will probably ask yourself if you’re listening to a washing machine. – Ian Lamont
Elliott Smith
Heaven Adores You OST
[Universal]
A songwriter without compare, Smith’s messy demise, prolificacy and habit for refining his songs repeatedly meant that he left behind a trove of high quality work to fill the void created by his death. This collection, plucked from Nickolas Rossi’s optimistic and devoted documentary on his life and music, charts his development from the geeky teen progfest I Love My Room (unutterably charming) to the narcotic depths of lost Basement-era gem True Love (grim), adding humanising detail to the cartoon of depression he is sometimes depicted as. – Ian Lamont
